Chapter Text
The floor was too clean. Seulgi always noticed that first. The way the shine of money under her feet.
She moved through the halls of Hankuk University with her shoulders squared, steps measured. Not fast, not slow. Just enough to keep from drawing attention.
Just enough to not get in anyone’s way.
She wore the same offwhite coat everyone else did, but somehow hers looked different.
Maybe it was the way it hung on her frame - Secondhand, a size too big. Maybe it was the scuffed sneakers underneath, or the battered canvas backpack she clutched like a shield.
She was a scholarship student in a school built for heirs and prodigies.
And everyone knew it.
She passed by a group of students clustered near the main stairwell, laughter from perfect teeth and perfect lives. One of them tilted their head as Seulgi walked by.
“Hey,” the girl murmured, loud enough to be heard. “Did you know she tutors on the side? Like… for actual money?”
Another chimed in, barely hiding her smirk.
“I saw her working at that cafe near the subway last week. Kind of bold, right? Serving your classmates?”
Seulgi didn’t stop. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t look at them.
She never did.
The worst kind of cruelty here was quiet. It wasn’t thrown punches. It was exclusion dressed as amusement. It was knowing they’d never say it to her face, but always loud enough to remind her she wasn’t one of them.
She pushed open the doors to Lecture hall 4C and took her usual seat, row four, seat six. Not too close, not too far. A spot where the professor could see her, but no one else really had to.
The room slowly filled with noise, papers rustling, shoes tapping, conversations rising in sharp, polished voices. She kept her notebook and kept her eyes down.
Until the door opened.
She didn’t need to look at who it was.
Yoo Jaeyi.
The click of designer heels. A wave of perfume subtle, expensive, nothing like the air fresheners in Seulgi’s apartment. The hush that followed her in gravity. Even the students who mocked everyone else straightened when Jaeyi walked by.
Daughter of Yoo Taejoon, the name behind half of the country’s hospitals. Practically born in a lab coat. Crowned before she owned it.
She passed down Seulgi’s row without stopping, not even sparing her a glance. But the space between them shifted. Always did.
Seulgi didn’t look up.
But she felt it. The heat crawling up her neck, the pressure behind her ribs.
She told herself it was just the nerves. Stress. She had a quiz today.
Not her. Not again.
The professor entered, silencing the room.
Class began. Seulgi scribbled the date in the corner of her notes, underlining it twice.
She would remember this day, just like she remembered everyday Jaeyi walked in and made her feel like she wasn’t supposed to be here.
But this time, something felt different.
She didn’t know why yet.
It was supposed to be a review session.
The professor moved through the first case of study on the projector, pointing out symptoms and medication errors as if they weren’t obvious. The lecture dragged like a dull ache. Seulgi had already read this chapter three times. She knew every diagnosis, every lab value. She could’ve taught this class herself.
But she didn’t raise her hand.
Not once.
A few rows ahead, Jaeyi answered with perfect composure. Her voice was smooth, low, confident without trying. She didn’t sound like she needed to be right. She just was.
The professor smiled after every one of her responses.
“Exactly. Thank you, Yoo.”
Seulgi’s pen scratched harder against her paper. She wrote the same line twice without meaning to.
It’s fine , she told herself. Just stress. I barely slept. I thought there was going to be a quiz today.
There wasn’t. There never was.
But it was easier to pretend her nerves were about academics. Easier to blame exhaustion, or pressure, or caffeine. Not Jaeyi. Never Jaeyi.
Because that would mean acknowledging it.
And Seulgi refused to do that.
Seulgi left the Lecture hall as soon as the professor dismissed them.
The hallway was full of noise. Heels clicking, voices rising, someone joking about their parents flying in for dinner. She ducked her head and moved quickly, cutting through the crowd like she was invisible.
The cafe she worked for sat a few blocks outside campus, tucked behind a bookstore and a flower shop. It wasn’t fancy, but it was clean and quiet and warm. That was enough.
She stepped behind the counter just as the clock hit eleven.
“You’re early,” Jiwoo, the manager, said without looking up from the espresso machine.
“Classes ended early,” Seulgi replied, pulling on her apron.
Jiwoo nodded. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“She wasn’t.
But there was milk to steam, counters to wipe, and orders to call out. And in some ways, Seulgi preferred the rhythm of this place to the classroom. Here, no one expected her to be exceptional. Just efficient.
The bell above the door jingled. A couple of med students from another section walked in, laughing, pointing at the menu.
Seulgi pasted on a polite smile. Took their orders. Made drinks. Wiped the counter.
Repeat.
She didn’t think about Jaeyi. She didn’t think about the way her voice wrapped around the room like silk. She didn’t think about how the professor smiled when she answered a question Seulgi already knew but didn’t bother to raise her hand for.
She didn’t think any of it.
Until her phone buzzed in her apron.
She pulled it out during a lull.
[BKMED Schedule Update]
Woo Seulgi - Yoo Jaeyi
Her hands stilled. The screen stayed lit in her palm. Her breath caught for a second too long.
It wasn’t just class.
They’d be partners.
Clinical partners.
For an entire week.
Her thumb hovered over the screen, but she didn’t open the message again.
She didn’t need to.
Woo Seulgi – Yoo Jaeyi.
She read it again and it felt like her spine had iced over. The air around her didn’t shift, the lights didn’t flicker, but something in her did.
They weren’t just names. Not to her.
Because Jaeyi wasn’t just another student. She was a reminder.
Of where Seulgi came from.
Of where she
wasn’t
supposed to be.
Of everything she had to fight for just to stand in the same room.
They’d never been close. Barely spoke. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t history.
They’d never been close. Barely spoke. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t history.
Freshman year, first semester. Lab partners were assigned alphabetically. Seulgi ended up seated beside Jaeyi by chance. She remembered how quiet she’d been back then, still unsure how much space she was allowed to take up.
Jaeyi never said anything cruel. Not out loud. But her silences were sharp. Her smiles, if they ever came, were shallow.
When Seulgi answered questions too quickly, Jaeyi wouldn’t look at her. When Seulgi asked to borrow a pen, Jaeyi handed it to her like it was a receipt.
There was always this... edge. Polished and passive, but pointed.
And that was before Seulgi started ranking higher.
Before whispers followed her between classes. Before people began asking, "Wait, the scholarship girl beat Jaeyi in diagnostics?"
Seulgi tucked her phone away and leaned against the counter.
The cafe smelled like burnt espresso and vanilla syrup, but she could still feel the scent of Jaeyi’s perfume somewhere at the edge of her thoughts.
They would be partners.
Not in a classroom where distance was possible.
But in a clinical rotation.
One on one. Skin close. Breathe the same air close.
And there were things you couldn’t fake when it came to physical exams.
Things you couldn’t avoid.
Like trust.
Or eye contact.
Or the press of hands on skin.
Seulgi exhaled slowly, her breath fogging the little mirror near the milk fridge. w You’ve survived worse, she told herself.
But something deep in her chest whispered:
Not her. Not again.