"Everyone, we'll be having our first exam in preparation for the Moot Battle," Miss Kyung announced, her sharp gaze sweeping over the class.
A quiet murmur rippled through the students, but no one was truly surprised.
At least, I wasn't.
This was routine. Every year, Miss Kyung threw this at us without warning, a sudden exam designed to gauge who had actually been keeping up and who was just coasting by.
It was never about the grade—it was about the ranking.
I leaned back in my seat, completely unfazed.
Hyerin, on the other hand?
I caught the slight flicker of surprise in her expression, the way her fingers tensed against the desk.
Ah.
So she wasn't expecting this.
How cute.
I smirked slightly, watching as she quickly masked her reaction, her hand already reaching for a pen. Adaptable. But not quick enough.
Miss Kyung walked toward the front, setting a thick stack of papers on the desk. "I'll be handing out the exams now. No talking. No questions. You have one hour."
The shuffle of papers filled the room as she began distributing them row by row.
I tapped my fingers lightly against the desk, barely glancing at my own test as it landed in front of me. I already knew what to expect.
But what about Hyerin?
I glanced at her from the corner of my eye.
Would she struggle? Would she crack under pressure?
Or… would she surprise me again?
I smirked, flipping open my exam.
Let's find out.
Thirty-four minutes.
That's how long it took me to finish everything.
Did I need to double-check my answers? No.
How could I ever fail?
After all, I was Yoon Saehwa.
I set my pen down with a quiet click, leaning back slightly in my chair. Around me, the classroom was still filled with the sound of frantic scribbling, students hunched over their desks, flipping through pages with quiet desperation.
Miss Kyung sat at her desk, sharp eyes flickering across the room, watching for any sign of weakness.
It was always easy to tell who was struggling.
I turned my gaze slightly, letting my attention drift toward Hyerin.
Her brows were furrowed, her fingers gripping her pen tightly as she moved through the questions.
She was thinking. Hard.
I could see the way her eyes flickered between the problem and the margins of her paper, trying to map out the logic in her head. She wasn't guessing—she was trying.
Visibly struggling.
Not surprising.
This was her first real test at Seonghwa. And here, knowledge alone wasn't enough.
There was speed, strategy, and the ability to break down complex cases in the shortest amount of time possible.
For someone like Hyerin—who hadn't spent years playing this game—it wasn't going to be easy.
I watched her fingers hesitate over a multiple-choice question. Her lips pressed together.
She knew she was running out of time.
I smirked, propping my chin against my palm.
What will you do now, Hyerin?
I smirked, watching as Hyerin's pen hovered just above the paper, the weight of time pressing down on her.
She was thinking too much.
That was the problem.
At Seonghwa, hesitation was a death sentence.
I leaned back slightly, letting my gaze linger on her as I absentmindedly twirled my pen between my fingers. She had two options—trust her instincts and push forward, or get caught in the endless spiral of doubt that would only cost her more time.
I could already see it.
Her fingers tapped against the desk, her eyes flickering toward the next page, then back again. She was stuck.
And then—something changed.
Her grip tightened, her expression hardening just slightly before she made a decision.
Her pen moved.
Fast. Decisive.
Ah.
So she wasn't the type to crumble under pressure.
Good.
Miss Kyung glanced up from her desk, her sharp gaze flickering toward the clock before sweeping over the room.
"Five minutes left," she announced.
A ripple of tension spread through the students, but I remained still, my attention still on Hyerin.
She didn't react outwardly, but I saw the subtle shift in her breathing, the way her pace quickened just slightly.
She wouldn't finish everything.
Not in time.
But she wasn't giving up, either.
The final moments ticked by, the air thick with silent desperation.
And then—
"Time's up. Turn in your papers up front," Miss Kyung announced, her voice as sharp as ever.
Chairs scraped against the floor as students hurried to gather their papers, some with an air of quiet confidence, others with thinly veiled panic. The rustling of pages filled the room as exams were passed forward in a wave of finality.
From my seat, I heard Hyerin exhale. A slow, quiet sigh, followed by the subtle shift of her posture.
I glanced at her.
A bead of sweat trailed down the side of her face, her fingers resting tensely against the edge of her desk.
It was hard for you, wasn't it?
I smirked slightly, watching as she pushed her exam forward along with the others. Don't worry, almost everyone fails their first exam in Miss Kyung's class.
Everyone except me, of course.
Miss Kyung collected the last of the papers, tapping the stack neatly against the desk before setting them aside.
"You'll receive your results by next class," she said, her tone impassive. "Those who do poorly should consider whether they are truly suited for this competition."
A few students tensed at the implication.
But I remained still.
And so did Hyerin.
Even though she knew.
Even though she felt it.
That uncertainty. That sinking feeling of wondering whether she had done enough.
She didn't let it show.
I leaned forward, resting my chin against my palm, smirking just slightly.
I wonder, Hyerin.
Just how much do you hate losing?
The tension in the room didn't fade, even as Miss Kyung moved on. Students shifted uncomfortably, whispering among themselves, already speculating about their scores. Some slumped in their seats, resigned to whatever fate awaited them.
Hyerin, however?
She remained still.
I could feel it—that silent frustration creeping in, the weight of uncertainty settling in her chest.
She hated not knowing.
Hated the idea that she might not have done enough.
I smirked. Good.
She was already starting to understand how things worked here.
The moment class ended, I stood, stretching slightly before slipping my hands into my pockets.
Hyerin was slower to get up, rolling her shoulders back before gathering her things.
I waited, watching, before speaking.
"How do you think you did?"
She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she exhaled, pressing her lips together in thought before finally muttering, "I don't know."
I chuckled. "A rare moment of honesty."
She shot me a flat look, shouldering her bag. "You already know, don't you?"
"Of course," I mused. "But it's more fun making you guess."
Hyerin sighed, rubbing her temple. "You enjoy being annoying, don't you?"
I smirked. "Immensely."
She rolled her eyes but didn't argue.
We stepped into the hallway, the flow of students already shifting as they moved toward their next classes. The atmosphere was different—some tense, some indifferent, but all carrying the weight of the exam that had just ended.
As we walked, I glanced at her, watching the way she kept her expression neutral, but her fingers tightened slightly around the strap of her bag.
Still thinking about it, aren't you?
I hummed. "Since you're worrying so much, why don't we make things interesting?"
She sighed. "What now?"
I grinned. "Let's make another bet."
Hyerin narrowed her eyes, immediately suspicious. "I haven't even finished the last one yet."
I shrugged. "Consider this one an extra challenge."
She exhaled, shaking her head. "Fine. What is it?"
I stopped walking, turning to face her fully.
"If you place in the top ten," I said smoothly, "I'll let you ask me another question. No conditions, no tricks. Just like last time."
She blinked, processing my words.
"And if I don't?" she asked cautiously.
I smiled, tilting my head slightly. "Then you'll owe me a favor. And trust me, I'll make it worth my while."
She let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. "You really like making people owe you, don't you?"
I smirked. "I like seeing how far people are willing to push themselves."
Hyerin didn't respond right away.
She was considering it, weighing the risks, calculating whether it was worth it.
Then, finally, she extended her hand.
"Deal," she said firmly.
I grasped it, feeling the steady determination in her grip.
"Good," I murmured. "Try not to disappoint me."
She scoffed, pulling her hand away. "I should be saying that to you."
I chuckled, falling into step beside her once more.
The hallways were filled with murmurs of speculation—students whispering about the exam, trading theories on which questions had been trickier than they seemed.
Hyerin walked beside me, her expression composed, but I could tell. She was thinking.
She wanted to win.
Even if she wouldn't say it outright, I could see the determination settling in.
Good.
We reached the staircase, and just as she was about to turn toward her next class, I spoke.
"Don't overthink it, Hyerin."
She glanced at me, raising an eyebrow. "You're telling me not to overthink?"
I smirked. "You'll see soon enough. Whether you passed or failed, the rankings will make it clear."
She exhaled, rubbing her temple. "You really enjoy watching people suffer, don't you?"
I chuckled. "Only the ones worth watching."
Hyerin rolled her eyes but didn't argue. Instead, she adjusted the strap of her bag, shifting her weight slightly before muttering, "I won't lose to you, Saehwa."
I tilted my head, intrigued.
"Is that a threat or a promise?"
She gave me a pointed look. "Take it however you want."
And with that, she turned, heading toward her next class without another word.
I watched her disappear into the crowd, a slow smirk curling at my lips.
Oh, Yeon Hyerin.
I hope you realize—you just made this even more fun.