"I have your exam scores here," Teacher Lee announced, his voice carrying through the classroom, instantly silencing the murmurs of restless students.
The tension in the room sharpened as everyone straightened, bracing themselves for the inevitable ranking that would follow.
"With a perfect score," Teacher Lee continued, "Yoon Saehwa."
Obviously.
I barely reacted, simply resting my chin against my palm, waiting for the rest.
"Second place, with ninety-four points out of a hundred—Jung Nari."
I heard her exhale beside me, but she didn't say anything. She expected it.
"Third place, Jiwon, with ninety-two points out of a hundred."
I caught the slight flicker of disappointment on Jiwon's face before she masked it with her usual disinterest.
Then—
Teacher Lee paused.
My fingers tapped lightly against the desk, already knowing what was coming next.
"And sixteenth place," he said, his voice even, "with sixty-two points out of a hundred—Yeon Hyerin."
Ah.
The silence that followed was almost deafening.
A few students exchanged glances, some whispering under their breath, while others tried to suppress amused smirks.
Sixteenth place.
Not failing, but nowhere near good enough.
I turned my gaze toward her, but she was already looking down at her desk, jaw tight, hands clenched slightly against her exam paper.
I smirked.
"You're going to let that score stand, Hyerin?" I murmured, just loud enough for her to hear.
She didn't answer right away.
But I saw it—the flicker of frustration, the quiet determination settling into her expression.
Good.
Because if she thought I would let her stay at the bottom, she was sorely mistaken.
As the murmurs in the classroom continued, I expected Hyerin to remain quiet, to swallow her frustration and keep her head down.
Instead—
"Can you bring me to the sleeping pod place again?" she asked, her voice steady. "I want to try it."
I turned my head slightly, studying her.
She wasn't meeting my gaze, her fingers still resting against the edge of her exam paper, but her posture had changed.
She wasn't just frustrated.
She was ready to do something about it.
A slow grin tugged at my lips. That's more like it.
"Sure," I murmured. "After class."
Her shoulders relaxed slightly, as if she had expected me to refuse.
I leaned in, lowering my voice just enough so that only she could hear.
"But before that," I continued, "I'll write some materials down for you. Things you actually need to study."
Hyerin blinked, finally glancing at me.
I smirked. "This won't be the end of Miss Kyung's random exams, you know."
Her lips pressed together, but she didn't argue.
I tilted my head. "Do you trust me, Hyerin?"
She exhaled slowly, her gaze flickering toward the front of the class before settling back on me.
"I don't know," she admitted.
I chuckled. "Good enough."
The bell rang, signaling the end of class.
As students started gathering their things, I stood, slipping my hands into my pockets.
"Meet me after school," I said smoothly. "And bring a notebook. You're going to need it."
Hyerin nodded, gripping her bag a little tighter.
She had no idea what she was about to step into.
But that was the fun part.
The rest of the school day passed by in a blur. The usual routine—lectures, assignments, the constant hum of students murmuring about rankings and upcoming competitions.
But my mind was already elsewhere.
On what would come after.
Hyerin didn't hesitate when the final bell rang. She met me by the side entrance of the school, exactly where she was supposed to.
"You really didn't change your mind?" I mused, watching as she adjusted the strap of her bag.
She gave me a sharp look. "Are you expecting me to?"
I chuckled. "Not at all."
Without another word, I gestured for her to follow.
The car was waiting for us just outside the gates, sleek and polished, the windows tinted dark enough to keep the world from looking in.
Hyerin hesitated for only a moment before stepping inside.
The drive was silent at first, the low hum of the engine the only sound between us.
Then, casually, she spoke.
"So… those notes you mentioned earlier. Are you actually going to help me, or was that just something you said to make fun of me?"
I glanced at her, amused. "You think I'd waste my time writing out materials just to mock you?"
She exhaled, leaning slightly against the seat. "With you? I wouldn't be surprised."
I laughed softly. "Hyerin, if I didn't want to help you, I wouldn't bother wasting my time with you at all."
She didn't respond to that.
But she also didn't look away.
When we arrived, the familiar dim glow of the underground facility greeted us. The air was cold, sterile, laced with the faint scent of machinery and something metallic.
The pods stood in their usual eerie stillness, each one humming with a quiet, unsettling energy.
Hyerin stared at them, her fingers tightening slightly around her bag strap.
"You can still turn back," I murmured, watching her.
She inhaled slowly. Then, without breaking eye contact, she shook her head.
"I want to try it."
I smiled. Good.
I motioned toward the nearest pod.
"Then let's begin."
Hyerin hesitated only for a second before stepping forward. Her fingers grazed the edge of the pod as she carefully climbed in, settling onto the cushioned interior. The cover slowly lowered, enclosing her inside.
She exhaled, adjusting herself against the soft lining.
Beside her, attached to the pod's interior, was a nebulizer—the key component of this entire system.
I moved behind the pod, where the control panel rested. My fingers traced along the surface before flipping open a concealed compartment.
Inside, a sleek container held the substance that so many students had come to rely on.
Without pausing, I removed it, the cool metal smooth against my fingertips. A necessary step.
I reached into my coat pocket and swapped it out with something else.
The switch was seamless, undetectable.
I secured the new container in place, my movements methodical, precise. Then, I shut the compartment and pressed the switch, activating the system.
"Are you ready, Hyerin?" I asked smoothly. "If you are, just strap in the nebulizer."
From inside the pod, I saw her fingers hover over the device before gripping it fully.
A brief hesitation.
Then, finally—she strapped it on.
The pod emitted a soft mechanical hum as the process began.
I watched, silent, as the mist curled into the air inside, thin and nearly transparent.
Hyerin's breathing slowed, her expression unreadable as she let herself sink into the experience.
And I?
I simply leaned back against the console, arms crossed, watching.
Let's see what happens now, Hyerin.
The soft hum of the pod deepened as the mist circulated, enveloping Hyerin in its invisible grasp. I watched as her chest rose and fell in slow, measured breaths, her fingers resting loosely against the cushioned sides.
Her body relaxed.
Her expression softened, her eyes fluttering closed as the nebulizer did its work.
I exhaled, my fingers idly tapping against the control panel.
It was always the same.
The first time inside the pod was a revelation.
Students who had spent their lives feeling the weight of exhaustion suddenly felt weightless. Their minds sharpened, their fatigue faded, and for a fleeting moment, they believed they could finally keep up.
That was how it started.
I glanced down at the control panel, watching as the monitors flickered, tracking her vitals, her neural activity, the way her body was adjusting.
It wouldn't be long now.
Minutes passed in silence.
Then—her fingers twitched.
Subtle, but noticeable.
I tilted my head slightly, observing.
Her brows furrowed faintly, as if something within the process unsettled her. Not fear. Not pain. Just… something.
The pod released a quiet beep, signaling the session's approaching end.
I stepped forward, pressing the switch once more.
A soft hiss escaped as the cover slowly lifted, allowing the mist to dissipate.
Hyerin inhaled sharply, her eyes fluttering open.
She blinked, disoriented for only a moment before her gaze focused.
I leaned against the console, smirking. "Welcome back."
She didn't respond immediately.
Instead, she sat up slowly, her hand instinctively reaching up to remove the nebulizer.
She stared at it for a second before setting it aside, her fingers brushing against the inside of the pod.
I watched, waiting.
Then, finally—she turned to me.
"That was… different," she muttered, voice quieter than usual.
I chuckled. "Good different? Or bad different?"
She hesitated.
"I don't know yet."
Ah.
So she wasn't completely convinced.
That was fine.
She would be back.
They always came back.
I extended a hand. "Come on. Let's get out of here before Manager Ha starts asking questions."
Hyerin glanced at my hand, then at me, before exhaling softly and taking it.
Her grip was firm, steady.
I pulled her up effortlessly, watching as she adjusted to standing again.
Her posture was different.
Not lighter. Not exactly.
Just… thoughtful.
I smirked, guiding her toward the exit.
One step at a time, Hyerin.