Chapter Text
Yeonjun slumped against his desk, staring blankly at the open notebook in front of him. The words on the page might as well have been ancient scripture for all the sense they made.
"You look like you just found out your life is over," Jisung said, amusement lacing his tone as he leaned against Yeonjun's desk.
Yeonjun let out a deep sigh. "Might as well be. What test are you all talking about?"
Jisung blinked. "The one we have in ten minutes? The one the teacher reminded us about all last week?"
Yeonjun stared at him. "You’re lying."
"Wish I was."
A groan left Yeonjun’s lips as he dropped his head onto his arms. Of course, he’d been too distracted to remember. The damn dreams had been messing with his sleep for weeks now—shadows shifting in the dark, a voice he couldn’t place, eyes that burned into his soul. Every morning, he woke up feeling like someone had been watching him.
Before Jisung could tease him further, Yeonjun's phone buzzed on his desk. He glanced down at the screen. Taehyun.
He frowned and picked up the call. "Yeonjun, get your ass to the courtyard," Taehyun said, his voice sharp and urgent.
"Wait—what?"
"Another fight broke out. Just get here fast."
Yeonjun shot up from his seat, already stuffing his phone into his pocket. "I’m coming."
Jisung let out an exasperated sigh. "Seriously? Again?"
By the time Yeonjun reached the courtyard, the fight was already in full swing. A crowd had gathered, students shouting and egging it on.
He spotted Taehyun near the edge, arms crossed, looking unimpressed. "Took you long enough," Taehyun muttered as Yeonjun joined him.
Yeonjun barely heard him. His eyes were locked on the center of the commotion—one senior and their classfellow squaring off, tension crackling in the air. He didn’t know what started it, but at this rate, it wouldn’t end without someone bleeding.
"This is stupid," Yeonjun muttered before stepping forward.
"Yo, break it up," he called out, pushing through the circle of students.
Predictably, no one listened.
The seniors shoved their classfellow back, knocking into a younger student standing nearby. Yeonjun caught the kid before he fell, his annoyance spiking.
"That’s enough," he said, his voice sharper now. "You guys wanna fight? Do it somewhere else."
The senior—tall, broad-shouldered, and looking like he lived off gym workouts—turned to Yeonjun with a sneer. "And who the hell are you?"
Yeonjun didn’t flinch. "Someone who doesn’t have time for this shit."
The guy didn’t seem to appreciate that. His eyes darkened, and in a flash, he was swinging his fist toward Yeonjun.
Yeonjun braced himself—
But the hit never landed.
Instead, there was a blur of movement, impossibly fast.
The next second, the senior was on the ground, coughing, eyes wide with shock.
Yeonjun barely registered what happened—his gaze snapped to the figure standing just a step ahead of him.
Tall. Dark-haired. Sharp eyes.
There was something almost unnatural about the way he moved, precise yet effortless, like he had done this a hundred times before.
Yeonjun’s breath caught in his throat.
It was him.
The boy from his dreams.
The stranger turned away, brushing nonexistent dust off his hands, as if what he had just done was nothing.
"Wait—" Yeonjun reached out before he could think. "Who are you?"
The boy paused. Then, without turning around, he said in a voice that sent an inexplicable chill down Yeonjun’s spine—
"You already know."
And then, just like that, he disappeared into the crowd.
Yeonjun stood frozen, his heart pounding in his chest.
He had to find out who this guy was.
Because no matter how impossible it sounded, Yeonjun was sure of one thing—
This wasn’t the first time they had met.