The Warmth of Pale Hands

“Please drive.”

Jeha gave the command to the driver with a slight sigh. Inside the enclosed car, a pleasant, fragrant scent emanated strongly from his clothes. Ye-Kang clenched her lips tightly, her tension rising.

The fragrance she had noticed even from a desk away was now unmistakable. She vaguely imagined remembering him by his scent and, at the same time, worried whether her own sweat from running earlier might smell unpleasant.

“Are you okay? It looks like you’re pretty hurt.”

His voice broke the awkward silence, and it was only then that Ye-Kang realized her knee had been throbbing for some time. Blood trickled down from the scraped skin, the sight of it unpleasant. The reddish area promised a deep, blue bruise by the next day.

“It’s just a scrape. I’ll go to the nurse’s office when we get to school.”

She pulled a handkerchief out of her bag to wrap the wound. At the very least, she needed to stop the bleeding.

“Give it to me.”

Jeha, who had been silently observing her, extended his hand. Ye-Kang froze in surprise.

“Why?”

“The blood’s still dripping. You need to stop it.”

“I can do it myself.”

“Your hands look clumsy. You’re terrible at first aid, aren’t you?”

Biting the inside of her cheek, Ye-Kang tightened her grip on the handkerchief. There was something unreadable in Jeha’s dark eyes that unsettled her.

“I, on the other hand, am perfect at it,” he murmured softly.

His voice sent an odd feeling through her. They had never exchanged more than a few words before, and even those interactions always ended poorly. Watching her remain silent, Jeha leaned in closer, his face inches from hers.

“Are you trying to have a staring contest with me?”

Startled, Ye-Kang jerked her head back, her heart pounding wildly. Before she could process what was happening, Jeha smoothly took the handkerchief from her grasp.

“Lift your skirt a little.”

“What?”

Her voice came out louder than intended, an instinctive reaction. Embarrassed by her outburst, she cleared her throat awkwardly as Jeha continued.

“I need to see the wound to wrap it. Should I do it for you?”

Hurriedly shaking her head, Ye-Kang quickly lifted the hem of her skirt just enough to reveal her injured knee, not wanting him to catch on to her momentary misunderstanding.

“Wow, that’s a serious scrape. How do you fall like this?”

Clicking his tongue in disapproval, Jeha frowned as he folded the handkerchief into a diagonal strip. Biting his lip lightly, he carefully wrapped it around her knee.

“I’ll go easy on you, but it might still hurt a little.”

The pale handkerchief wrapped snugly around her knee, and what surprised Ye-Kang most was how deftly he worked. His movements were so fluid and skilled, it was as if he’d done this countless times. Despite herself, her heart fluttered. For the first time, she thought she might understand what Sang-Mi’s friend meant about Jeha’s demeanor.

The driver, wearing oversized sunglasses and a Hawaiian shirt, seemed almost invisible as he focused solely on driving.

“All done.”

Jeha finished and withdrew his hands briskly, then picked up a vocabulary book from the seat beside him. Ye-Kang sat stiffly, gripping her skirt hem, stealing glances at him. He was utterly indifferent to her presence, absorbed in flipping through the book.

What is this guy?

“I’ll take you to the nurse’s office when we get to school. If you don’t disinfect it right away, it’ll leave a scar.”

His tone lacked the cold detachment of before, the one that had dismissed her with “Don’t bother me.”

“I can go by myself.”

“Fine. Suit yourself.”

Was this, as the others said, just Jeha’s way of “helping the less fortunate”? Was he simply being charitable because she came from a difficult background? Or, as Chang-Min had claimed, was he just a little prickly but not truly a bad person?

“Kang Ye-Kang. By the way…”

Jeha’s voice, calm as ever, broke her thoughts as he lazily flipped a page in his vocabulary book.

“Yeah?”

Catching her off guard, she turned to look at him—and Jeha delivered a verbal jab.

“Stop acting like I’m some kind of infectious disease. It’s annoying.”

His expression was identical to the one he wore on her first day, when he’d muttered something under his breath. A shiver ran down Ye-Kang’s spine. She wanted to yell that the bad luck here was all on him, but she couldn’t. Her instincts told her that crossing a certain line with Jeha would escalate into outright bullying. His icy gaze said it all.

At this point, she almost preferred the “charity case” narrative. Ye-Kang decided to take a step back.

“I… understand that you might be upset.”

As Ye-Kang managed to force the words out of her dry lips, Jeha’s mouth twisted into a smirk.

“What exactly do you understand?”

His narrowed eyes and mocking expression made it clear that he was ridiculing her. Taking a deep breath, Ye-Kang spoke in a voice that, at least, didn’t tremble. They weren’t entirely alone—there was the driver in the car. Though she had long given up relying on adults, she reasoned Jeha wouldn’t escalate things to violence with someone else present.

“You’re a class officer… and I know the teacher’s struggling because she’s pregnant. So, it makes sense that you’re paying more attention to a transfer student like me. And being nice to me probably comes from that too.”

“…I’ve been nice to you?”

Jeha repeated her words with disbelief, then continued.

“Go on.”

“But… I don’t really like people being nice to me.”

Ye-Kang decided to keep explaining. If she didn’t address this now, she feared her school life would become even more difficult. She clung to the hope that Jeha’s sense of logic might align with his intelligence.

“Why not?”

“It’s not because I’m ignoring you—it’s my issue.”

“Then explain it in a way I can understand.”

His tone was sharp, as expected. Ye-Kang could now guess why. The boy in front of her likely had an immense ego. What upset him wasn’t that she rejected his kindness—it was that she made it seem unwarranted. He probably thought she was overreacting to his acts of goodwill, and that bothered him. But the problem wasn’t so simple.

“A transfer student suddenly hanging around the most popular person in school—it’s understandable that others might find it annoying or even detestable. I get it.”

“Are you talking about me?”

Jeha frowned, and Ye-Kang nodded.

“You know it better than anyone, don’t you? I figured it out on my first day. You’re the most famous person in this school.”

She wasn’t trying to flatter him. She doubted he’d feel particularly good hearing something he’d already heard a hundred times. But contrary to her expectations, Jeha responded with an odd expression and a strange question.

“You thought that the first time you saw me? Why?”

“…”

Even if their eyes hadn’t met, it was a fact that he stood out in the classroom. But admitting that she thought he was most likely to bully her was impossible. Telling him how his cold, dark eyes had seemed to hide an unspoken storm when they first met was even less so.

“It wasn’t something I had to think about. Everyone kept talking about you—Chang-Min, Sang-Mi’s friends… everyone.”

Jeha’s brows furrowed. The smile vanished from his face, leaving her uneasy for reasons she couldn’t pinpoint.

“I don’t want to cause any trouble until I graduate. So, I’d appreciate it if you stopped acknowledging me. I’ll just take your kindness as a gesture and leave it at that. Thanks.”

Jeha, who had been silently listening, finally spoke.

“I’ve never actually shown you kindness. So, what exactly are you thanking me for?”

“…”

“Is it that you don’t know what real kindness is? Or are you mocking me right now? Because I don’t understand, and I’d like you to explain.”

Jeha stared at her intently, his dark blue gaze smoldering with cold fire that felt ready to explode. That was what had unsettled Ye-Kang from the start.

“…I’m sorry.”

“Apologizing for something you didn’t do—is that a habit or paranoia?”

A surge of heat rose in her chest. She was beginning to understand why her patience with Jeha was wearing so thin. He didn’t mince words. If he was direct, then she could be too.

“Because I thought you might bully me.”

“And why would I do that?”

Ye-Kang couldn’t look away from his gaze. Slowly, her eyes dropped to his wrist. They lingered on the faint scars partially hidden by his watch before darting away. She bit her lip, unable to say anything.

Jeha followed her gaze to his wrist and let out a deep sigh. Though she said nothing, her silence spoke volumes.

“Let me give you some advice.”

His voice was calm, but Ye-Kang’s gaze remained tense.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

She didn’t need to ask what he meant. His expression said it all—it was the look of someone whose secrets had been laid bare, someone desperate to keep certain parts of themselves hidden. She didn’t ask if it was just teenage angst or if his scars were a plea for attention because his turbulent gaze left no doubt—it was real, painfully so.

“This is a warning. Stop provoking me before I actually start bullying you.”

His voice dropped to a chilling low.

“Like you said, I’ll stop paying attention to you. So don’t do anything to make me notice you again.”