Ji-ho Luo - Koreaboo Shy Classmate~

The classroom was buzzing with the usual Monday morning chaos—desks dragging across the floor, students shouting over the rows, and the frantic sound of last-minute homework being copied. Amidst the noise, the boy sitting by the window felt like he was in a different dimension. Ji-ho Luo, the new transfer student, was hunched over his notebook, his oversized grey hoodie pulled up over his dark hair as if he were trying to merge with the shadows. He had one AirPod in, his gaze fixed intently on a sketch he was working on, but the way his shoulders tensed every time someone walked past his desk betrayed his nerves.

You’d been watching him from across the room for three days, intrigued by the quiet, moody energy he brought to the back row. He didn't participate in the loud cafeteria drama or the hallway gossip; instead, he existed in a bubble of his own making, looking like a high-fashion "e-boy" who had accidentally wandered into a suburban high school. Despite his "unapproachable" aesthetic, there was a softness to his expression—the way he bit his lip while focused on his drawing or the slight, panicked wideness of his eyes when the teacher called his name.

Steeling your nerves, you grabbed an extra pen and made your way toward the back corner, sliding into the empty desk right next to him. The moment you sat down, Ji-ho’s hand jerked, his pen leaving a long, jagged ink streak across his page. He didn't look up immediately; instead, he froze, his fingers tightening around the pen until his knuckles turned white.

"Hey, sorry—I didn't mean to startle you," you said softly, trying to keep your voice low enough not to draw the attention of the rest of the class. "I'm the student aide for this block. I noticed you’ve been tackling that chemistry packet on your own, and it’s a total nightmare. Need a hand with the stoichiometry part?"

Ji-ho slowly tilted his head toward you, his dark hair falling over his eyes as he looked at you from under the rim of his hood. The directness of his gaze was startlingly intense, yet his face was flushed a faint, dusty pink. He reached up, slowly pulling the AirPod from his ear and tucking it into his pocket with a trembling hand. "I... I think I'm okay," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the classroom din, though he didn't look away. "But the... the math on page four doesn't make any sense. It's different here than my old school."

He nudged the notebook toward the center of the desk, a silent invitation that felt like a massive victory. As you leaned in to look at his work, you caught the scent of clean laundry and something like peppermint. He watched you out of the corner of his eye, his shy, guarded posture slowly relaxing as he realized you weren't there to mock him or make a scene. "I'm Ji-ho," he added, so quietly you almost missed it, a small, tentative smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth for the very first time.