Frozen Standoff

Without any hesitation, the girl snatched the book from Vansh's hand. He was in shock—he didn't even have time to react before she was already on the move, stuffing all her accessories into her bag. It felt as if time had frozen for a second.

Vansh stood there, completely clueless. He was definitely amused, yet confused at the same time. The girl flashed him a bright smile before walking out of the classroom. As she stepped outside, several guys approached her, trying to talk, but she politely declined. She gestured toward her throat, hinting that she wasn't feeling well, and left.

Inside the classroom, the teacher shot Vansh a peculiar stare. He immediately understood what it meant—he was expected in the office later, probably for a talk. Otherwise, things could get troublesome.

Sighing, Vansh packed his things, slung his bag over his shoulder, and stepped forward. But suddenly, a chill ran down his spine.

A strange feeling.

A stare.

From across the room—someone was watching.

Vansh turned back—not with his body, but with his sharp, observant eyes. He wanted to make sure the stare he felt was real.

Their eyes locked.

Neither of them moved.

Both hardened their gaze, as if trying to overpower the other in a silent battle. Boys passed between them, unaware of the tension in the air. The moment the last guy walked by, Vansh vanished.

The other boy remained frozen in place, baffled—but he didn't let his expression betray his thoughts.

A moment later, Vansh stood in front of the office cabin. He took a deep breath but stayed relaxed. This wasn't his first time here. He already knew what was coming.

Sliding the door open, he stepped inside.

The teacher sat straight at her desk—a young woman in her mid-20s, radiating a bossy, classic attitude. Her legs were crossed, fingers tapping rhythmically on the table. Beside her fingers lay the comic book. It hadn't been touched, but it was acknowledged.

She glanced at Vansh but said nothing.

Their eyes met, and a heavy silence filled the room.

Vansh stepped forward and slowly lowered his bag, positioning himself in a disciplined stance before her.

Still, neither of them spoke.

Her stare made the air feel heavier. She looked down at the book, flipping through the pages one by one.

Vansh sighed internally. Here we go again.

He knew exactly what was coming—a long, tiresome lecture about responsibility, discipline, and how a comic book had no place in a classroom.

It was only a matter of time before the scolding began.

The teacher took a slow, deliberate breath.

"Again?" she asked, her tone carrying a mix of disbelief and amusement.

Vansh looked away slightly, pretending not to hear.

She skimmed through the comic, unimpressed, flipping through its pages absentmindedly. "This is the worst-rated comic in the entire store, and you're actually reading it?"

Vansh cringed, his face twisting involuntarily. She raised an eyebrow, catching the reaction. Her irritation spiked.

"Stop making that face," she warned, her voice sharp.

Vansh immediately forced his expression neutral, but his eyes betrayed him. She sighed, shaking her head as if dealing with an impossible case. Then, with a smirk, she tried a different tactic.

"Fine, then. I won't return this book."

Still, he looked unbothered.

She leaned forward slightly, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Or maybe I should tell your mom about your… refined taste in comics?"

Vansh clicked his tongue. "Tch."

The teacher frowned. "Did you just click your tongue at me?"

"Not even worried," Vansh shrugged, arms crossed. "Have you ever actually read this story? It's a good one. A time-travel story."

She waved him off. "Not interested in those kinds of stories."

Vansh scoffed. "Yeah, yeah. I get it. You're more into the whole 'old lady falls in love with a rich CEO, dramatic romance' kind of thing. Boring."

The teacher tensed. "Did you just call me old?"

Vansh blinked, as if just realizing what he had said. A faint blush dusted her cheeks as she picked up her phone, trying to act unbothered. But Vansh caught it.

He smirked. "Oh? You have been reading those kinds of stories, huh?"

She shot him a glare. "Shut up." Then, she pouted slightly. "And for the record, I'm in my 20s. Young and cute, thank you very much."

She even made a playful face, but Vansh responded with an exaggerated cringe. "Ugh. Please never do that again."

Annoyed, she tapped something on her phone. Vansh instantly recognized the move. His eyes widened.

"Alright, alright! I surrender, young madam!" he exclaimed, hands slightly raised. "Now put the phone down and stop bringing my mom into this. That's cheating."

The teacher tilted her head. "Did you say something?"

Vansh cleared his throat. "Nope. Nothing at all."

She smirked, setting her phone aside. "That's better. Oh, and by the way, I'm still not giving the book back."

Vansh hesitated, tempted to argue, but he let it go. With a sigh, he slung his bag over his shoulder and turned toward the door.

Just as he stepped forward, her voice stopped him.

"So… what do you think of that girl?"

Vansh paused but didn't turn around. "Think? About what?"

The teacher smirked knowingly. "Oh, really? Then why does she keep asking for your help and your book?"

Vansh exhaled, shaking his head. "I have no idea. And honestly? I'd rather not get involved in whatever this is."

She studied his reaction, her smirk widening, but before he could say anything else, she waved him off.

"Well, our business ends here. You can leave now."

Vansh didn't need to be told twice. Without another word, he stepped out, leaving the conversation behind—but not entirely out of his mind.

Vansh left all words behind as he exited the cabin. Looking up, he stood there, frozen—before him was a familiar figure. He slowly closed the door, his eyes locking onto the other's.

The popular guy.

He stood with a look of quiet calculation, his serious face hiding something more—a plan in the making, something untold waiting to happen. In his hand, a stone lay, grasped not with tension, but intent. His feet were planted firmly, controlled, as if he had already determined his next step.

But Vansh did not falter.

He felt no fear, merely unshakeable determination. He stood firm, looking into the other's eyes head-on. Neither flinched.

Wind whispered through, ruffling hair, shaking their bags. Silence thickened, heavy with something unnamed. Sunlight in yellow gold lit both of them, casting shadows that stretched across the ground as they stood frozen, looking into one another's eyes.

Lathed in the fading light, they stood frozen—two silhouettes frozen in a moment of stillness, anticipating something to shatter