Legal Hearts

"Everyone, please welcome our new student," Teacher Lee announced, stepping aside to allow Yeon Hyerin to take her place at the front of the classroom.

I rested my chin against my hand, watching with mild curiosity.

Yeon Hyerin.

There was something about that name—something that lingered at the edge of recognition, just out of reach. Her surname. Or perhaps her entire name. Had I heard it before? Seen it written somewhere?

I sifted through my memory, tracing through past cases, articles, documents I had read. But before the thought could take form, her voice cut through it.

"Hello," she said, her tone steady, unshaken. "I'm Yeon Hyerin."

No hesitation. No nervousness.

She stood there, perfectly composed, as if she had done this a hundred times before. As if she belonged here.

The classroom, which had been buzzing with whispers just moments ago, fell into a quiet hush. The air shifted, the way it always did when someone new entered our world—a world built on status, reputation, and legacy.

Yeon Hyerin stood at the front, poised but not rigid, her gaze scanning the room without giving too much away. She knew they were watching. Judging. Weighing her existence before deciding whether she was worth remembering.

"Is there anything else you would like to say?" Teacher Lee asked, his voice laced with something expectant.

For a brief second, her gaze hesitated—a flicker, almost imperceptible, but I caught it.

"Uh, I recently moved here and transferred to this school," she said, her tone even but carrying the slightest trace of uncertainty. Then, with a small, practiced bow, she added, "So please take care of me."

A standard introduction. Safe. Carefully unremarkable.

Teacher Lee smiled, nodding approvingly. "Why don't you take the empty seat next to Saehwa? Saehwa, raise your hand."

My fingers tapped idly against my desk as I lifted my hand, signaling the seat beside me.

Of all the places she could have sat, it had to be here.

As Yeon Hyerin moved toward me, the murmurs started again, this time quieter, more speculative. I caught a few stray words—mentions of rank, curiosity over why she was placed in the advanced class, questioning if she was worth the attention she was already getting.

She didn't react.

She simply pulled out the chair and sat down, her movements calm, deliberate.

Without sparing her another glance, I rested my chin against my hand once more, letting my gaze drift lazily toward the front of the room.

So, she would be sitting next to me.

I turned my head slightly, just enough to glance in her direction. "Nice to meet you, I'm Saehwa—"

"I know."

Her response came before I could finish, quick and effortless.

I raised an eyebrow, more amused than surprised.

"Your name is everywhere," she continued, her voice even. "On every board, every ranking list. And the teacher just said it a moment ago."

Ah.

So she's observant.

I let out a soft laugh, not forced, but not entirely genuine either. "That's true. It's quite difficult to miss my name in this school."

Her tone wasn't flattery, nor was it dismissive. Just a fact, stated plainly.

I tilted my head slightly, studying her for a moment longer. She didn't act intimidated, nor did she go out of her way to impress me. A rare balance, one that most students here failed to grasp.

Leaning back slightly, I offered her a small, measured smile. "Well, it's nice to meet you too, Hyerin. I hope we get along well."

She met my gaze, unreadable.

"We'll see," she said simply.

A vague response. One that left room for interpretation.

Interesting, indeed.

Class began soon after. Criminal Procedure.

Teacher Lee's voice droned on, breaking down the nuances of due process and legal formalities. It was nothing I hadn't already learned before. My father had drilled these concepts into me long before I even stepped foot into Seonghwa.

I leaned back slightly, fingers idly twirling my pen as I let my gaze drift—not to the board, not to the textbook, but to the person sitting beside me.

Yeon Hyerin.

Her posture remained straight, focused, but I didn't miss the small signs of hesitation as she took notes.

A slight pause between words.A furrow in her brows.

Confused.

How unexpected.

Most students here prided themselves on never showing weakness, especially not in the first lesson of the term. And yet, there it was, however subtle—uncertainty.

I let the moment stretch for a second longer before tilting my head toward her, a smile playing on my lips.

"Need help, Hyerin?"

She barely glanced at me, her grip on her pen tightening. Pride. She didn't want to ask, but she needed to.

I let the silence linger, watching her hesitation unfold in real time. It was almost admirable, the way she refused to acknowledge it outright.

Would she accept the help? Or would she let her pride win?

Leaning in slightly, I lowered my voice just enough that only she could hear.

"I don't know how you got in here…" I murmured, my tone casual, almost lazy. "But you can't get to the top using normal means."

Her hand stiffened over the page, though she didn't look up.

I tilted my head slightly, nodding toward the far side of the classroom—toward a group of girls subtly exchanging notes, pages slipping between fingertips with quiet precision. Their gestures were practiced, effortless.

Not outright cheating, no. Something more refined. More calculated.

A network. Information passed and distributed like currency.

"See them?" I continued, voice light, conversational. "That's how things work here. You either make yourself useful, or you become someone else's stepping stone."

I turned back to her, smiling, studying the way she absorbed my words.

"Tell me, Hyerin." I rested my chin against my palm. "Which one are you planning to be?"

For a brief moment, she didn't answer.

Then, without looking up, she said, "I don't need anyone's help."

Ah.

My grin widened slightly, though I kept my expression composed.

It was rare—almost unheard of—for someone to reject me.

No one ever refused my help. Not when I offered it so effortlessly, without conditions. Not when they knew that kindness from me was a privilege, not a right.

But Yeon Hyerin, new to Seonghwa and already walking the tightrope between survival and failure, had done just that.

How unexpected.

I twirled my pen between my fingers, amusement lingering in the air between us.

"Okay," I murmured, my tone light, nonchalant. "If that's what you want."

Her pen continued gliding across the page, but I caught the way her fingers tensed slightly.

I leaned back, eyes flickering back to my own notebook. "But next time, after you learn your lesson, don't reject my kindness again."

Her hand paused for the slightest second.

And then, just as quickly, she continued writing.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the way she hesitated before glancing at me—brief, unreadable, as if trying to make sense of my words.

Then she turned away, choosing to focus back on her task.

I let out a quiet breath of laughter, absentmindedly doodling on the corner of my notebook.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

The lesson dragged on, though I barely paid attention. Criminal Procedure was hardly a challenge, and Teacher Lee's explanations felt like echoes of things I'd already learned years ago.

My mind wandered instead—to the girl sitting beside me.

Yeon Hyerin.

The transfer student who rejected my help.

Even now, she remained focused on her notes, her posture rigid with concentration. Every so often, I caught the way her fingers hesitated before writing something down, how she would glance at the textbook as if trying to confirm something.

She's struggling.

Not visibly. Not enough for the others to notice. But I saw it.

And yet, she didn't ask for help.

Most students in her position would have grasped at whatever advantage they could find. Connections, alliances, information. They understood that power in Seonghwa wasn't just measured by rank but by the people you had standing beside you.

But she—she refused to lean on anyone.

How far did she think that would take her?

The sharp ring of the bell cut through my thoughts, signaling the end of class.

Chairs scraped against the floor as students gathered their belongings, their conversations picking up once again. Some immediately turned to their study groups, exchanging thoughts on the lecture. Others lingered, eyes scanning the ranking boards displayed on the far wall, waiting for the official list to update.

I closed my notebook with a quiet snap, sliding my pen into place before rising from my seat.

Hyerin did the same, adjusting her uniform slightly before reaching for her bag.

She didn't rush, nor did she seem uncertain. She carried herself with quiet confidence, the kind that most people faked until they no longer had to.

But I had seen the hesitation beneath it.

I stepped toward the door, but just as I passed her, I spoke—just loud enough for only her to hear.

"You'll realize it soon," I said, my tone effortlessly light. "No one survives here alone."

There was a brief moment of silence, just long enough for the weight of my words to settle.

Then, just as smoothly, I continued, "Come on, let's get lunch together." I glanced at her, a small, knowing smile tugging at my lips. "Two of my friends will be joining us."

Hyerin blinked, clearly caught off guard. Her grip on her bag tightened slightly, as if considering whether to refuse.

I tilted my head, waiting.

She could decline. Walk away. Keep pretending that she didn't need anyone.

But if she was smart, if she had any real intention of surviving here, she wouldn't.

Finally, after a brief hesitation, she exhaled softly. "Alright."

A quiet victory.

"Good choice," I murmured, stepping out into the hallway. "Come on, then."

She followed.

And just like that, Yeon Hyerin took her first step into my world.