When the Clock Strikes|Pi Han Ul x Reader|

Chapter 16

She led me, down a narrow alleyway behind the school. 

Where no cameras could reach. 

Where no teachers would come. 

The moment we stepped in, I knew. 

I had walked straight into a setup.   

A group of students, a lot, stood waiting.   

Some held wooden sticks.   

I stopped in my tracks.

“You think you’re strong, don’t you?” he sneered.   

Another voice scoffed.   

“That stunt in the cafeteria? You embarrassed Jeongan. You embarrassed all of us.” 

I exhaled. 

They weren’t here to talk.   

I should think before act. Because this is bad. If I start, I'm not gonna stop until it became a...mess.

I am not gonna hurt these people. They are all mean, bad. But I can see some of them being helpless, forced.

I don't want to hurt them.

I took a step back, but someone blocked the alley entrance.   

They had thought this through.   

The guy with the bat rolled his shoulders, stepping closer.   

“You won’t leave here walking,” he said, smirking. “And I’ll make sure of it.”   

His grip tightened.   

The first strike would come any second now.   

I readied myself.   

Then— 

Then—

A slow, deliberate clap echoed through the alley.

The murmurs died instantly.

Pi Han Ul stood at the entrance, hands tucked in his pockets, his posture relaxed—but the air shifted. The weight of his presence alone was enough to make the students shrink back.

The guy with the bat swallowed hard, glancing at the others for reassurance. No one met his gaze.

"What is this?" Pi Han Ul's voice was calm, smooth. But there was something about it—something that made the temperature feel colder.

Silence.

No one dared to answer immediately. Then, the one who had spoken earlier found his voice. "S-Sunbae…" He hesitated before bowing slightly. "She humiliated Jeongan. We were just—"

Pi Han Ul tilted his head, waiting. The boy trailed off.

He tilted his head slightly. "You’re standing in my school, using my alley, playing your little games with someone I’m quite curious about." His gaze flickered toward me for a brief second before settling back on them. "That makes it very much my business, don’t you think?"

Silence, again.

The air felt thick, like everyone had suddenly realized how stupid this was.

"She embarrassed Jeongan," one of them finally muttered. "She needs to be put in her place."

Pi Han Ul hummed, nodding slowly. "Jeongan. Right. The guy who couldn’t handle a single girl and got himself thrown out of the cafeteria like trash?" He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "Tell me, how does that work? You lose a fight, so you gather a dozen people to fix your ego?"

No one spoke.

Pi Han Wool took a lazy step forward, and the group instinctively moved back. Even the guy with the bat, the one who had been so confident moments ago, lowered it slightly.

"I’ll tell you what’s going to happen," Pi Han Wool continued, his tone light. "You’re all going to leave."

They didn’t hesitate.

One by one, they turned and left, moving quickly, some nearly stumbling in their rush to escape. The boy who had spoken earlier bowed deeply before following them.

Pi Han Ul watched them go, then finally turned his gaze to me.

For a moment, he said nothing. Just studied me.

His eyes weren’t cold, but they weren’t warm either. Like he was observing something distant, something interesting—but not personal. 

I met his gaze. I wasn’t sure what to say. 

"You should be more careful." His voice was casual, like he wasn’t just talking about a near-ambush. 

I swallowed. "I didn’t know they’d—" 

"You should’ve known," he cut in, smooth, effortless. "You pissed off the wrong people. This was obvious." 

I didn’t like that. The way he said it, like it was my fault. Like I should’ve just let it happen. 

My hands clenched at my sides. "I didn’t do anything wrong." 

His lips curved—not quite a smile, not quite amusement. "Maybe. But that doesn’t mean you’re safe." 

He took a step closer. It wasn’t intimidating, not really. But something about it made me feel small. 

"You fight well," he said. "But you hesitate." 

I stiffened. "What?" 

"You hold back." 

I felt exposed. 

He wasn’t wrong. 

"I don't—" 

"You do," he said simply. 

His gaze flickered to my hands, like he’d already figured something out. 

I swallowed hard. "I don’t need to explain myself to you." 

His smile grew just a fraction. "You don’t. But I’m curious." 

I didn't like that either. 

People being curious about me never led to anything good. 

He tilted his head slightly, studying me again, like he was piecing together a puzzle. "You’re strong," he murmured. "But you don’t act like it." 

I looked away. 

There was nothing to say to that. 

The alley felt quiet now, too empty after all those people left. 

He finally exhaled, stepping back. "Stay out of trouble, Beak Cheonga." 

Before I could respond, he turned, already walking away. 

"Wait," I called, the word slipping out before I could stop it. 

He didn’t stop, but he glanced back, his expression unreadable. 

I hesitated. 

"...Why did you help me?" 

For the first time, his smile felt real.

Amused.

"Who said I helped you?" 

Then he was gone.