TRY TO HIDE ━━ yandere weak hero class

'been tryin' hard not to get into trouble'

[Name]

A tall boy with round, thin-framed glasses stepped into the classroom. His uniform was neatly pressed, and a white jacket hung loosely over it — the kind of neatness that practically screamed new kid energy.

"He looks lame," Ji Wu announced immediately, losing interest just as fast. "His name's probably Dae or something. You know, a classic nerd name."

Suho snorted beside her.

"Ji Wu, my love," I said, leaning forward slightly. "As much as I adore you, you really need to learn to hesitate before you speak. Because if you ever get into a fight, my iron-deficient ass is not stepping in to save you."

Before Ji Wu could respond, the boy spoke up.
"My name is Oh Beomseok," he said, voice calm but soft.

Ji Wu opened her mouth again, but her mother — our homeroom teacher — started speaking first.
"Everyone, please make Beomseok feel welcome."

Ji Wu leaned back in her seat, arms crossed. 

"Beomseok," she repeated, testing the name like she was chewing something tough. "Yeah, definitely a nerd name."

He smiled awkwardly, clutching the straps of his backpack tighter. "Nice to meet you," he said, voice barely above a whisper.

"Don't mind her," I said, motioning vaguely toward Ji Wu. "She's all bark, no bite. Unless you take her snacks."

"Then it's war," Suho added, grinning.

Beomseok gave a small nod, unsure whether to laugh or flee. He took the empty seat beside Sieun. Ji Wu's eyes flickered over, watching him for half a second before she turned to whisper, "He's totally going to be bullied."

"Don't jinx it," I murmured, opening my notebook but finding myself glancing at him too. There was something fragile about the way he sat — careful, like he didn't want to disturb the air around him.

As the teacher started the lesson, I caught Beomseok's reflection in the window: eyes down, pencil tapping nervously against his notebook. And for a split second, he looked up — not at the teacher, but right at me. 

***

"Well, that was underwhelming," she said. "I was hoping for at least a transfer student with a mysterious past or a tragic backstory."

"Not everything's a drama, Ji Wu," I said, flipping through my notebook.

"You say that, but you're the one who cried when that one kid transferred to Busan last year."

"That was my pencil he never returned," I shot back. "It was personal."

Suho laughed, the quiet kind that made his shoulders shake. "She's got a point, Ji Wu."

"Whose side are you on?" Ji Wu asked, pointing a finger at him.

"Obviously hers," Suho replied without hesitation.