The afternoon sun slanted across the classroom windows, painting golden stripes on the polished desks. Yoon Go-eun stood at the front, brushing a strand of chestnut hair back behind her ear as she finished writing a formula on the chalkboard. The students were restless, their chatter bubbling beneath the quiet hum of the air conditioner.

Then, during the lull of the short break, one student piped up with the boldness only teenagers could muster. "Seonsaengnim, what's your type in a man?"

A ripple of laughter followed, classmates leaning in as though her answer might be the secret to life itself.

Go-eun blinked, momentarily surprised, before the corners of her lips lifted. Her voice, soft and melodious, carried across the room with ease. "...I suppose someone genuine. Kind, honest. Someone whose words and heart match."

The response was simple, but she spoke it with a sincerity that made it clear she wasn't joking. Instantly, her students booed and groaned in playful disappointment. Some clasped their chests as if heartbroken, others leaned back dramatically in their chairs.

Go-eun's quiet laughter spilled into the room - low, delicate, the kind that faded into a smile almost too easily. She shook her head gently, shrugging as if to say she'd revealed nothing at all, and let them have their fun. The bell soon rang, freeing them to chatter off to their next classes, while she gathered her books neatly and walked the hallway.

Male students watched her pass, some whispering, others unable to hide the way their gaze lingered. Her presence carried too much grace to approach, yet too much warmth to look away from. She didn't seem to notice, or perhaps chose not to, her expression calm and untroubled as she slipped her papers into her bag and headed home.