The morning sun was too bright for Ha-eun’s tired eyes. She had stayed up all night watching dramas again, whispering to herself that “just one more episode” was not a crime. Now, sitting in her classroom, she regretted everything.
Her head dropped onto the desk with a soft thud.
“Yoon Ha-eun, wake up! New student coming today,” whispered Seo-jin, her best friend, poking her side with a pen.
“Let me sleep, please. Unless the new student is Gong Yoo, I don’t care,” Ha-eun mumbled into the desk.
Seo-jin giggled. “You will care. Rumor says he’s super rich. Like chaebol rich.”
Ha-eun snorted. “Then he better buy me breakfast.”
Just then, the classroom door opened with a loud bam. Everyone turned their heads.
In walked a boy who looked like he had stepped straight out of a glossy magazine. Perfect hair, expensive sneakers, shiny wristwatch that probably cost more than her entire house rent. His expression? Pure arrogance, as if breathing the same classroom air was beneath him.
The girls in the room gasped. Someone whispered, “He looks like a drama lead!”
The teacher smiled proudly. “Class, we have a new student. This is Cha Min-jae. He just came back from studying abroad. Treat him well.”
Min-jae gave a tiny nod, scanning the room like he was picking which servant would be the least annoying. His gaze landed on the empty seat beside Ha-eun.
“Go sit there,” the teacher said, pointing.
Ha-eun froze. “What? Beside me?”
“Yes, Yoon Ha-eun. You’ll be his seatmate from today.”
Her jaw dropped. Out of all thirty desks in the classroom, fate decided to punish her this way?
Min-jae strolled over, pulling out the chair with unnecessary drama. He sat, leaned back, and then looked at her like she was invisible.
Ha-eun narrowed her eyes. Okay, mister rich boy, let’s set the rules. You don’t bother me, I don’t bother you.
But of course, life hated her.
The first disaster happened immediately.
“Excuse me,” Min-jae said, his voice low but commanding.
Ha-eun blinked. “What?”
He pointed at her pencil case. “Move that. It’s in my space.”
She laughed. Out loud. “Your space? This is half the desk. Half. Not chaebol empire land.”
Min-jae raised an eyebrow. “Do you know who I am?”
“Nope,” she said. “And I don’t want to. Now deal with it.”
The entire class was already staring, whispering like crazy. Seo-jin was nearly choking from holding in her laughter.
The teacher glared. “Both of you, be quiet!”
But it was too late. From that moment, the war between Ha-eun and her new seatmate had begun.
Break time came. Ha-eun opened her lunchbox, ready for peace. But Min-jae leaned over.
“What is that smell?” he asked, nose wrinkling.
“It’s kimchi. Normal food. You know, what humans eat.”
Min-jae looked disgusted. “I don’t eat commoner food.”
“Oh, sorry, your highness,” Ha-eun snapped. “Would you like me to order caviar for you?”
Seo-jin snorted so hard rice almost came out her nose.
And then the real disaster struck. Min-jae stood, carrying his own fancy lunch bag, but his foot caught on Ha-eun’s chair leg. He stumbled, and in slow motion, the bottle of kimchi soup in Ha-eun’s hand tilted—
SPLASH!
Bright red kimchi juice covered Min-jae’s expensive white shirt. The whole class screamed.
Min-jae froze, dripping, his perfect aura ruined. He turned his deadly glare on Ha-eun.
“You,” he said slowly, “owe me for this.”
Ha-eun held up the empty bottle. “Correction. You owe me. That was my lunch.”
The classroom erupted in laughter. Seo-jin slammed the desk, crying from giggles. Even the teacher looked like he wanted to smile but was forcing himself not to.
Min-jae clenched his jaw. “This is war.”
Ha-eun smirked. “Bring it on, chaebol boy.”
And that was how Yoon Ha-eun’s peaceful school life officially ended.
