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Chapter 16
Jung-ha’s gaze still lingered on Yeon-woo, who sat with his head bowed, showing only the crown of his head.
Nineteen. Unlike the other boys in their class, he had a sharp nose, manly features with strong lines, and broad, dependable shoulders. A few girls were sending him signals that went beyond simple approval, hinting at real interest. Jung-ha gave a scoffing little smile in response.
To his eyes, only Seo Yeon-woo stood out as different and special in this classroom. The rest looked dull and meaningless.
“Jung-ha, just sit wherever there’s an empty seat. You know class starts in twenty minutes, right? Don’t doze off from the start of the new semester. You’re seniors now, seniors.”
“……”
“tsk, no replies at all.”
The homeroom teacher swept his eyes over the class with a disappointed look, then walked out. But no one’s eyes followed him. Right now, it didn’t matter what the teacher said—what everyone cared about was where the young master from the Irae Orchard would choose to sit.
Because everyone already knew: Seo Yeon-woo, the debtor’s son, was living off that orchard household.
“……”
And Jung-ha didn’t disappoint their expectations. His brand-new sneakers tapped the wooden floor as he strode only a few steps before dropping into the seat right beside Yeon-woo.
Startled, Yeon-woo flinched, his shoulders jerking up. Realizing his reaction was too much, he pressed his lips firmly together. A curt voice came out of his throat:
“……That seat’s taken.”
“So you’re the class rep.”
He had forced himself to speak instead of ignoring him, but the answer he got was absurdly off topic.
Jung-ha tossed his bag onto the desk, leaned his elbow on it, and propped his chin in his hand. His black eyes, tilted toward Yeon-woo’s long hair, carried a glint of irritation.
“I said, that seat’s taken.”
“Doesn’t look like it right now.”
His gaze slid to the empty space of Yeon-woo’s neck, bare and exposed. While the two traded quiet barbs, Yeon-woo felt someone behind him noisily dragging a chair closer to eavesdrop.
Just as I thought.
School life was exhausting enough already. Now it felt like the entire year would only be worse. Yeon-woo clenched his teeth.
“……Why here, of all places?”
He muttered under his breath.
The stares filling the room should have been directed at him today. But all of them had shifted onto Woo Jung-ha—just because he lived under the same roof as Yeon-woo, the orchard heir.
There was no need for Jung-ha to take on more trouble because of him.
The rumors had already spread; Yeon-woo had tossed and turned all night over it. With heavy eyelids, he began tidying his desk, forcing himself to think: If the monk hates the temple, the monk should leave. It would be better if he kept his distance from Jung-ha. Then Jung-ha could slowly slip free from this unwanted attention.
“Oh, so you’re planning to run away from me?”
“……”
“If you hate it that much, should I just sit on your lap?”
His tone carried an odd hint of regret.
Yeon-woo refused to answer, lips sealed tight. Jung-ha’s mouth curved up in a cold smirk.
“What?”
“Or you could sit on mine. Like that day.”
At the mention of that day, Yeon-woo’s carefully controlled composure shot up like a flame.
So that’s how far you want to take this.
His eyes, widened in shock, finally locked with Jung-ha’s—something he had been avoiding all this time. For an instant, a sharp spark flared between them.
“Why are you doing this? First thing in the morning?”
Leaning back as if he wanted to bolt out of the room, Yeon-woo asked wearily.
“I’m helping you.”
“Helping with what, exactly?!”
“So you don’t have to put up with everyone’s filthy stares.”
“……Ha. You really—”
That shameless reply was the last straw. Yeon-woo couldn’t stand the countless watching eyes anymore; he gave up with a sigh, declaring defeat.
“Fine. Sit here. Just don’t cause a scene.”
There were only ten minutes left until class started anyway. He needed to hurry and fetch Jung-ha’s textbooks—otherwise they’d end up sharing one book for the first period.
Seeing Yeon-woo’s expression, half resigned already despite his earlier stubbornness, Jung-ha casually followed him out.
“……What’s this?”
“They look closer than I thought.”
“Didn’t they say the transfer kid’s loaded? Maybe he’s seduced him?”
Dirty whispers trailed in their wake again. Rumors that likely wouldn’t quiet down anytime soon. Yeon-woo winced slightly, like his back itched from them, but Jung-ha’s face showed no concern at all. Not the slightest bit.
Once they got a little farther from the classroom, the hallway grew quiet. Without glancing back, Jung-ha strode ahead in long steps. His legs were so much longer that Yeon-woo found himself glaring at them out of petty annoyance.
How far are you going?
He stomped a foot on the wooden floor in frustration, then grabbed Jung-ha’s arm.
“……Do you seriously not think? You don’t realize what people say just from being near me?”
Jung-ha only arched a brow, as if daring him to continue.
“I told you—not to act like we know each other in front of others.”
“……”
As Yeon-woo leaned in, practically shouting, Jung-ha calmly reached out and tapped the corner of his lips with a fingertip. The faint warmth on his plump lips made Yeon-woo’s eyes fly wide like a startled rabbit.
“Here. It’s all healed.”
“……”
Even though a cold draft blew through a slightly open window, heat rose from his stomach up to his face. Here—the spot where Park Jung-woon had hit him, leaving a scab.
Flushing all the way to his ears, Yeon-woo lowered his head. Jung-ha muttered in an unbothered tone:
“Next time, wear a scarf. It’s cold.”
He threw out his piece of advice and walked on ahead again. Did he even know where the teachers’ office was? Some vague hesitation tugged at Yeon-woo’s ankles, but it let go. He glanced around nervously, then hurried after him.
Both their ears glowed faintly pink. The breeze carried the scent of spring as it drifted into the hallway.
By the end of March, the two of them had grown used to leaving through the same blue school gates at nearly the same time.
They treated walking side by side as forbidden, yet somehow Yeon-woo kept finding himself checking to see where Jung-ha had gone.
That month, the cold snaps of early spring were especially harsh. And during that time, the person named Woo Jung-ha had firmly carved himself into the other students’ awareness—thanks to one person: Chae Eun-young.
“It must be hard, living in the same house with a guy like that, huh?”
With a friendly smile plastered on her face, Eun-young carried her lunch tray over, aiming to sit across from Jung-ha. Behind her fake friendliness was her pettiness toward Yeon-woo—trying to isolate him—and a hidden crush on Jung-ha, with his striking looks.
But Jung-ha not only rejected her, he outright shoved her away.
“Hey.”
“Huh?”
“Your breath stinks. Get lost.”
Yeon-woo had expected him not to play along with Eun-young, but he had never seen him wear such a hostile expression before. His own eyes widened in surprise.
Eun-young’s face, her budding affection for Jung-ha suddenly crushed, turned red—so red it was nearly purple. She demanded tearfully why he had to say it like that, but Jung-ha ignored her, and the matter ended there.
From that day, Eun-young carried a new label instead: the girl who got shot down by the transfer student after throwing herself at him. She couldn’t stand it.
Her inferiority toward Yeon-woo—who seemed to be the only one Jung-ha allowed near him—grew and grew.
At first, she tripped him in the halls. Then she locked him in the bathroom. But apparently, that wasn’t enough for her. Today, Eun-young finally stirred up a real incident.
“I heard someone stole Chae Eun-young’s MP3 player. I won’t say this twice—whoever it was, confess.”
The angry voice of their homeroom teacher rang through the classroom.
