The morning sun was warm on their shoulders as they joined the stream of other students heading toward Sogang University. True to his word, Park Hoseok set a brisk pace, his focus straight ahead. After a minute, he pulled out his phone and earbuds, deftly placing one in his right ear. The left one remained conspicuously absent.

Woori, trotting slightly to keep up, recognized the gesture for what it was—a classic tsundere move. He was creating a barrier, but a flimsy one, leaving one ear open just in case she said something important… or, more likely, in case he needed to snap at her for something.

Determined to break the silence and learn more about her mysterious neighbour, she decided to start with a simple, friendly topic.

"So, Park Hoseok-ssi, what's your favourite food?" she asked, her voice cheerful. "Mine is erm..."

Her confidence faltered. Ah. Panic, cold and sharp, prickled at the back of her neck. I've never had cheap street food. Her culinary world had been a curated rotation of five-star hotel buffets, private chef's tasting menus, and delicacies flown in from other countries. Naming any of those would shatter her "normal student" cover instantly.

Her eyes darted around, searching for an answer, and landed on a poster plastered on a nearby convenience store. It featured a vibrant, steaming plate of tteokbokki.

"Tteokbokki!" she blurted out a little too loudly, the word feeling foreign yet exciting on her tongue. It was what all the office staff at her father's company always talked about craving during their breaks. It had to be a universally beloved choice, right?

Hoseok, who had been steadfastly ignoring her, finally cut his eyes toward her. He raised one sharp brow, a silent, skeptical question.

He let out a short sigh, the very picture of annoyance. "I don't have a favourite. Anything is fine. But if it's a drink..." he began, his tone dismissive, before trailing off slightly. "...it's banana milk."

He chanced a look at her and immediately stiffened. "You're laughing."

Indeed, she was. A giggle had escaped her, and now she was trying, and failing, to suppress a full-blown, beaming smile.

"I'm not!" she lied, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "It's just... it's very... soft. For you." The image of this sharp, scowling man, with his intense eyes and weapon-grade sarcasm, happily sipping on a sweet, creamy carton of banana milk was too perfectly contradictory. It was the ultimate tsundere beverage!

He glared straight ahead, his ears turning a faint shade of pink. "It's efficient. It's protein and calories," he defended, his voice even more clipped than usual.

"Of course," Woori agreed, her voice dripping with mock seriousness. "Very efficient. Not sweet or cute at all."

He didn't dignify that with a response, instead choosing to increase his walking speed by a fraction.

---

They arrived at the university's main plaza, a chaotic, buzzing sea of new students. The air was thick with excited chatter and the rustling of orientation pamphlets. All around them, clusters were forming. A group of girls nearby were already laughing and exchanging social media handles, while a bunch of guys were comparing their high school backgrounds.

Woori stuck close to Hoseok's side, a steady anchor in the unfamiliar chaos. She watched the social whirlwind around them with wide, curious eyes, but made no move to join in.

Hoseok, who had been scanning the crowd with a tense, watchful expression, finally looked down at her. His sharp brow was furrowed in a mixture of annoyance and confusion.

"Yah," he said, his voice a low grumble. "Why are you just standing here? Shouldn't you be over there, doing that... girly gossip? The dilly-dallying?"

Woori looked up at him, her expression genuinely puzzled. "Gossip? But I don't know them. Maybe I'll talk to them later, but..." She gave him a small, decisive smile. "...my first friend is right here. So I'm staying with you."

Hoseok stared at her, completely thrown. For a second, his defensive scowl faltered. "...Who, again, is this first friend?"

"You! Of course!" Woori said, as if it were the most obvious fact in the world.

A flicker of something complex—sharp, swift, and unmistakably guilty—passed through his dark eyes. It was there and gone in an instant, vanishing behind his usual mask of irritation before Woori could even process it. He clicked his tongue and looked away, back toward the stage where the university president was preparing to speak.

"Tch. Whatever. Just don't expect me to do any dilly-dallying with you," he muttered, but he made no move to shoo her away. He simply stood his ground, a permanent scowl on his face, as Woori happily maintained her position beside her "first friend."

And for Woori, that was more than enough. She had successfully secured her spot. Now, all she had to do was make sure her grumpy, banana-milk-loving friend actually enjoyed his first day.