Hyerin took a slow breath, then stepped toward the center of the courtroom.
The whispers in the room faded, replaced by a weighted silence. This was it. Her first real moment in the spotlight.
I watched her carefully, noting the way her fingers clenched slightly before she steadied herself.
Then, she spoke.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the court," she began, her voice clear but measured, not rushed, not hesitant.
"The defense has tried to paint this case as a matter of interpretation—that the breach of contract was somehow unclear, that the plaintiff's lack of immediate action excuses the failure of the defendant."
She let that hang in the air for a moment, then turned toward the judge.
"But the law does not protect negligence."
A murmur spread through the audience.
I smirked. Good start.
Hyerin continued, her voice growing stronger.
"The facts remain unchanged. The defendant agreed to deliver on their promise and failed to do so. The timeframe for delivery was well within what is legally considered 'reasonable.' No further interpretation is needed. No vague wording changes the reality that the contract was broken."
She turned slightly, locking eyes with Gaeun, who was now watching her with a thinly veiled irritation.
Perfect.
Hyerin took a step forward, her presence expanding.
"The law functions to uphold accountability. Not convenience. Not delay. Accountability. If we allow breaches like this to be dismissed under the excuse of 'misinterpretation,' then what does a contract even mean anymore?"
She paused.
Then, finally, she turned back toward the judge.
"The prosecution has presented clear evidence, clear precedent, and clear reasoning. The contract was breached. The plaintiff deserves compensation. And the law demands it."
She inclined her head slightly. "We rest our case, Your Honor."
Silence.
For a single moment, no one spoke.
Then—low murmurs spread through the crowd.
I studied the judge, watching her neutral expression as she absorbed the closing argument.
She turned to Gaeun.
"Defense?"
Gaeun exhaled sharply, clearly irritated. She stood, straightening her blazer.
"The defense has nothing further to add, Your Honor."
Ah.
A full surrender.
The judge nodded, making a final note before closing the file in front of her.
"The court will now deliberate," she announced.
I smirked, glancing at Hyerin.
She exhaled softly as she returned to her seat, her hands clenched into fists against her lap.
I leaned toward her, lowering my voice so only she could hear.
"Not bad," I murmured. "Not bad at all."
She didn't respond immediately.
But I saw it.
The small, fleeting glint of satisfaction in her eyes.
She liked winning.
Good.
Because this?
This was only the beginning.
The deliberation took longer than necessary.
Not because there was anything to debate—we had won, and everyone knew it—but because the judges always wanted to maintain the illusion of fairness, as if the outcome hadn't been decided the moment I walked into this courtroom.
I stretched slightly in my seat, letting out a quiet sigh of boredom.
Hyerin, on the other hand, sat stiffly, her fingers still curled against her lap.
I tilted my head, watching her. Still processing? Or just waiting for the confirmation?
I leaned in slightly, my voice low, teasing.
"You can relax, you know. We already won."
She shot me a brief glare. "You don't know that yet."
I chuckled, resting my chin against my palm. "Oh, Hyerin," I murmured. "You have so much to learn."
She turned away, but I caught the way her shoulders dropped, just slightly. She knew it too.
The judge finally cleared her throat, calling the room to attention.
"After reviewing the arguments and evidence presented," she announced, "the court finds in favor of the prosecution. The defendant is liable for breach of contract."
There it is.
A hush fell over the room, followed by scattered murmurs.
Gaeun's jaw tensed, her fingers gripping the edge of her table. She exhaled sharply, turning away without another word.
I smirked.
Nari barely reacted—as if she had expected nothing less.
Hyerin, though?
She let out a breath, shoulders finally loosening. She didn't smile, but I saw it in her eyes. That subtle, intoxicating rush of winning.
Oh, Hyerin. You're starting to get it, aren't you?
I stood first, stretching slightly before looking down at her. "Come on. Let's go get something to drink. You should celebrate your first win."
She scoffed, standing as well. "It wasn't my win."
I grinned. "You sure? Looked like it to me."
She rolled her eyes but didn't argue.
We left the courtroom, the heat of competition still lingering in the air. Students eyed us as we passed—some with admiration, some with envy, but none with indifference.
Hyerin was being noticed now.
She wasn't just the new transfer student anymore.
And that? That was dangerous.
As soon as we stepped outside, I casually draped an arm over her shoulder, tugging her slightly closer.
She stiffened immediately. "What are you doing?"
I smirked, my voice dropping just a bit lower. "Relaxing. You should try it sometime."
She tried to shake me off, but I tightened my grip just enough to keep her close.
"You did well," I murmured, my fingers grazing against her shoulder. "I told you you'd like winning."
She swallowed, turning her head away. "I never said I liked it."
I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice so only she could hear.
"You don't have to say it," I whispered. "I can see it."
Her breath hitched just slightly.
Oh.
Oh.
I grinned, finally releasing her, stepping ahead as if nothing had happened.
"Let's get something sweet," I said smoothly. "You look like you could use some sugar."
She exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. "You're unbearable."
"And yet," I mused, glancing back at her with a smirk, "you're still here with me."
She didn't respond.
But she followed anyway.
We walked down the steps of the courtroom, the crisp afternoon air cooling the remnants of the heated debate. The school grounds were still buzzing with students—some discussing the trial, others whispering about us as we passed.
Hyerin ignored them. I didn't.
I could feel the weight of their stares, the way people were already recalculating their views of her. Before today, she had just been the transfer student from nowhere. Now? She was the one who stood beside me.
And that meant something.
I glanced at her as we walked. Her posture was more relaxed now, but her fingers still twitched slightly, like she was replaying the trial over and over in her head.
I smirked. She was getting addicted to the feeling.
Good.
She needed to want it.
We reached a small café just outside of campus, nestled between tall glass buildings that reflected the late afternoon light. It was a quiet place, mostly frequented by students who could afford overpriced coffee and a moment of peace between studying.
Hyerin hesitated at the door, glancing at me. "Why do I feel like I'm about to regret this?"
I chuckled, pushing the door open for her. "Because you know me too well already."
She sighed but stepped inside anyway.
The café was warm, the scent of espresso and vanilla filling the air. A few students sat scattered across the space, flipping through law textbooks, their laptops open, fingers flying across keyboards.
Typical.
I led us to a booth in the corner, sliding in smoothly while Hyerin sat across from me, arms crossed.
A waitress approached, her eyes widening slightly when she recognized me. "Oh, Saehwa, you're back. The usual?"
I nodded, flashing a charming smile. "And whatever she wants."
The waitress turned to Hyerin expectantly.
Hyerin blinked, then glanced at me. "You come here often?"
I smirked. "What, jealous?"
She rolled her eyes. "Tiramisu latte," she muttered to the waitress.
The moment the waitress left, I leaned forward, resting my chin against my palm.
"Be honest, Hyerin," I murmured. "How did it feel?"
She frowned slightly. "What?"
"Winning."
She hesitated.
Then, finally, she exhaled. "It felt… good."
I smirked.
She was starting to get it.
"You want to do it again, don't you?" I asked smoothly.
She looked away, fingers tapping against the table.
"I don't know," she muttered.
Liar.
I chuckled, tilting my head slightly. "You do. I can see it."
She shot me a glare, but I saw the way her lips pressed together.
I leaned in just a bit closer, voice dropping lower.
"And that's good," I murmured. "Because I want to see you win again, too."
Her breath caught for just a second.
The waitress returned, setting down our drinks.
I pulled back, smirking as I picked up my cup. "Drink up, Hyerin. You'll need your energy for next time."
She exhaled sharply, picking up her own drink.
And for the first time, she didn't argue.
Instead, she picked up her drink, taking a slow sip before setting it back down.
"Just letting you know," she said, voice even, "I don't trust you fully yet."
I tilted my head slightly, watching her over the rim of my cup.
Then, I nodded, setting my drink down with a soft clink against the table.
"Whatever makes your drink taste better," I mused. "But trust isn't something I've ever cared for."
Her expression didn't change, but I caught the smallest flicker in her gaze—like she wasn't sure whether to believe me.
I smiled, swirling my drink slightly.
"But you, Hyerin…" I murmured, taking another sip. "I just might care a little bit."
She stiffened, her fingers tensing around the cup.
Ah. That got to you, didn't it?
I leaned back against the seat, shifting the conversation seamlessly.
"Let me tell you something," I said smoothly, tracing my finger along the edge of my cup. "If you're really planning to get into Cheongha University School of Law, you're going to need more than just good grades. You're going to need points."
She frowned slightly. "Points?"
"Something to boost your grade average," I explained. "You earn them through academic competitions, court battles, student-led initiatives—things that prove you're worth taking in."
She nodded slowly, processing the information.
I took another sip of my drink before adding, "They're going to select Class Presidents and Vice Presidents soon."
Her brow furrowed. "And that matters because…?"
I smirked. "Because the higher your position, the more points you get. If you want a real shot at Cheongha, you should start thinking about where you stand."
She exhaled, leaning back against the seat. "Well, I doubt I'll have a chance. It's not like anyone would vote for a transfer student."
I chuckled. "Don't worry about Class President. You already know who it'll be."
Her lips pressed together. "Jang Gaeun."
"Of course," I murmured. "She's been working toward it for years—building connections, playing politics, making sure no one gets in her way."
Hyerin let out a slow breath. "And Vice President?"
I smiled.
"That's where it gets interesting."
Her fingers curled slightly against her cup. "Let me guess—Gaeun is going to try for it too."
I nodded. "If she can't be President, she'll settle for Vice President. But…"
I set my cup down, tilting my head slightly.
"You know what to do, don't you?"
Hyerin's grip on her cup tightened slightly.
She did know.
And just like that, I could see it again—that flicker of competition.
The unspoken challenge lingering between us.
I smirked.
Hyerin stirred her drink absentmindedly, her gaze distant, calculating.
"Vice President, huh?" she murmured. "What makes you think I'd even stand a chance?"
I tilted my head, watching the subtle way her fingers tensed around the cup. She was thinking about it. That was all that mattered.
"Because you don't like losing," I said smoothly.
She scoffed, finally looking up. "I just lost to you in the rankings, didn't I? I'm still here."
I chuckled. "You hated it, though."
She didn't deny it.
I leaned forward slightly, resting my chin against my hand. "You're different from the others."
She frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Most people here either fall in line or give up. You?" I smirked. "You push forward. Even after failing, even after struggling, you still want to win. And that's why you will."
She held my gaze for a moment, her expression unreadable.
Then, finally, she sighed. "And you? Are you running for President?"
I raised an eyebrow. "What do you think?"
"If you wanted it, you'd already have it," she muttered.
Ah.
She was quick.
"Exactly," I said, taking a sip of my drink.
"Then why aren't you taking it?"
I watched her, amused. She really was trying to figure me out.
I could give her the truth.
But where would the fun be in that?
I shrugged. "Because watching everyone scramble is far more entertaining."
She let out a quiet sigh, shaking her head. "Of course you'd say that."
Her phone buzzed against the table.
She glanced at the screen, her expression shifting.
"My advisor," she muttered. "I need to review some paperwork for my transfer."
I slid my coat on, standing up effortlessly. "I'll walk you home."
She blinked. "That's unnecessary."
"Maybe," I mused, adjusting my sleeves. "But I'm doing it anyway."
She didn't argue.
As we stepped outside, the cool evening air brushed against us, carrying the faint scent of autumn.
She walked beside me, quiet, thoughtful.
I glanced at her from the corner of my eye.
"If I told you to run for Vice President, would you listen?"
She hesitated—just for a second.
But that second was enough.
I smiled, slipping my hands into my pockets as we continued walking. "You don't have to answer me right now," I said lightly. "But just know, I'd be happy with you by my side."
Hyerin gave me a skeptical look. "You're running for President?"
I chuckled. "I never said that."
"You implied it."
I glanced at her, amused. "Did I?"
She narrowed her eyes slightly. "I thought you just said you weren't going to go for it."
I tilted my head, considering her words. "That's true," I mused. "I don't need to go for it."
Her frown deepened slightly, but I could see her thinking through what I really meant.
I turned my gaze forward, the golden glow of the streetlights stretching out before us. "Hyerin, for someone like me, that role will always be mine."
I didn't say it with arrogance.
I said it with certainty.
Because that was the reality of Seonghwa.
There was no need for campaigns or desperate votes when everyone already knew where the real power rested.
She exhaled quietly, looking ahead. "So why even bother asking me to be Vice President?"
I smirked. "Because I like having interesting things beside me."
She scoffed, shaking her head. "I'm not an object you can collect, Saehwa."
I chuckled, tilting my head toward her. "Who said anything about collecting?"
She didn't respond, but I saw the way she swallowed, the way her steps slowed just slightly.
She wasn't unaffected.
And I liked that.
We reached her neighborhood, the quiet hum of the city settling around us.
I stopped just outside her building, watching as she adjusted the strap of her bag.
"You don't have to answer me now," I repeated, voice softer this time. "But you will eventually."
She held my gaze for a long moment, something unreadable flickering behind her expression.
Then, finally, she turned toward the door.
"Goodnight, Saehwa."
I grinned.
"Goodnight, Hyerin."
I watched as she disappeared inside, the door clicking shut behind her.
Then, with a quiet chuckle, I turned on my heel and walked away.
She would think about it.
That was all I needed.