Chapter 5: First Impressions

The electronic bulletin board glowed with hundreds of names organized into neat columns by class designation. Students pressed forward in waves, the excitement and anxiety in the lobby almost palpable as they searched for their placements. Soo-jin methodically scanned the lists, ignoring the occasional shoulder bumping into hers as others jostled for position.

There Class 1-A. Her name appeared near the bottom of the list: Song Soo-jin. She felt a momentary flash of satisfaction, not for the prestigious placement itself, but for what it represented: the first successful step in her infiltration.

"I'm in 1-A!" Hee-chul's excited voice pierced through her thoughts as he materialized at her side again, bouncing on his heels like a child who'd been told they were going to an amusement park. "Wait, let me check if you—yes! You are too! We're classmates, Soo-jin! This is perfect!"

Soo-jin suppressed a sigh. While having an information source directly in her class could prove useful, Hee-chul's exuberance threatened to draw unwanted attention. She needed to blend in, to observe quietly, not to be associated with the boy in the blinding jacket who seemed allergic to indoor voices.

"What does Class 1-A mean exactly?" she asked, steering his enthusiasm toward something practical.

Hee-chul's eyes widened as though he couldn't believe she didn't know. He leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice just enough that only those in their immediate vicinity could hear.

"It's the top class for first-years," he explained, his tone suggesting he was sharing state secrets. "They sort everyone based on entrance exam scores, family connections, and special talents. 1-A is where they put the brilliant ones and the super-connected ones. Being placed here is like... like getting a golden ticket."

Soo-jin frowned slightly. "That's not mentioned in the student handbook."

"Of course not!" Hee-chul laughed. "They'd never put the real system in writing. But everyone knows about it. My cousin graduated from here three years ago, so I got all the inside info before transferring."

He continued eagerly, seeming delighted to have someone to share his knowledge with. "The class system here is hardcore. Four major exams per year—midterms and finals each semester. Your scores determine whether you move up or down for the next term. They take the combined scores and rank every student in the entire school, separated by year level."

This information hadn't appeared in any of Min-ah's letters or materials that Soo-jin had examined. Had her sister known about this invisible ranking system? Had it contributed to the pressure she faced?

"So, if you don't maintain your grades..." she prompted.

"You get bumped down to 1-B or worse," Hee-chul confirmed with a solemn nod. "And once you start sliding, it's hard to climb back up. Each class down gets fewer resources—the best teachers prioritize the A classes, the lab equipment is newer, even the classroom locations are better. It's basically educational Darwinism."

Soo-jin absorbed this information, mentally noting how such a system could be weaponized against someone like Min-ah—a scholarship student whose position depended entirely on academic performance. If someone wanted to destroy her sister, undermining her academic standing would be devastatingly effective.

"What about the student council?" she asked, remembering that Min-ah had mentioned running for a position in one of her earlier letters. "How does that fit into the hierarchy?"

Hee-chul's eyebrows shot up. "Aiming high already? I like your ambition!" Before she could correct his assumption, he continued, "The official student council is mostly for show—organizing events, liaising with faculty, that sort of thing. The real power is in the Disciplinary Committee."

"Disciplinary Committee?" This was something else Min-ah had never mentioned.

"Yeah, they're supposedly elected, but it's always the most elite students. They have actual authority—they can give out demerits, restrict access to facilities, even recommend suspension in serious cases." Hee-chul's voice dropped even lower. "Rumor has it they're the ones who really enforce the social order around here."

A chill ran down Soo-jin's spine. A student-led group with actual disciplinary power, operating with the blessing of the administration—it was the perfect mechanism for institutional bullying, providing a veneer of legitimacy to what would otherwise be recognized as abuse.

"That's not in the handbook either," she said quietly.

Hee-chul shrugged. "Like I said, the real rules aren't written down. You either know them coming in, or you learn them the hard way." His expression turned sympathetic. "But hey, you've got me to show you the ropes now! And being in 1-A is a great start. We should celebrate!"

The thought of "celebrating" her placement in this perverse system made Soo-jin's stomach turn, but she managed a noncommittal nod. Hee-chul took this as enthusiastic agreement.

"Great! I know this awesome café just off campus that all the Hankuk students go to. We can head there after orientation and—"

"I need to explore the campus first," Soo-jin interrupted, already backing away from him and the crowded bulletin board. The information overload was useful but overwhelming, and she needed space to process it all. "Maybe another time."

Disappointment flashed across Hee-chul's face, but it was quickly replaced by his seemingly inexhaustible cheerfulness. "Sure, sure! Rain check. We've got all year to hang out. Want me to give you a tour? My cousin told me about all the secret spots and—"

"I prefer to explore on my own," she said firmly. "But thanks for the information about the classes. It was helpful."

Before he could offer anything else, Soo-jin turned and began making her way through the thinning crowd. She needed to mentally map the school layout, identify key locations, and begin formulating a strategy based on what she'd learned. The class system, the Disciplinary Committee, the unwritten rules—all potential avenues for investigating what had happened to Min-ah.

The lobby opened onto a grand hallway lined with display cases showcasing the school's accomplishments—trophies, awards, photographs of distinguished alumni. Soo-jin moved past them quickly, looking for less populated corridors where she could orient herself without drawing attention.

Turning down a side hallway, she quickened her pace, her mind racing with new questions. Had Min-ah been targeted by this Disciplinary Committee? Had she run afoul of the unwritten rules? Or had her very success made her a target for those who couldn't tolerate being outperformed by a scholarship student?

Lost in thought, Soo-jin rounded a corner without slowing and collided hard with someone coming from the opposite direction. The impact knocked her slightly off balance, but years of martial arts training allowed her to recover instantly. The other person wasn't so fortunate—she heard the thud of a body hitting the polished floor, followed by the clatter of something metal or plastic.

"I'm sorry," she said automatically, looking down at the person she'd knocked over.

A tall boy sat sprawled on the floor, his glasses askew on a face that might have been handsome if not for the scowl now directed her way. His uniform was immaculate—perhaps too perfect, as though he'd spent considerable time ensuring each crease was exactly where it should be. Several books had scattered around him from the impact.

Soo-jin immediately bent down, extending a hand to help him up. "Are you hurt? I wasn't looking where I was going."

The boy ignored her outstretched hand completely. His eyes—dark and surprisingly intense behind the glasses locked with hers for a split second. Something in that gaze made Soo-jin freeze, a fighter's instinct warning her of danger. It wasn't just anger at being knocked down; there was something calculating in the way he assessed her, something cold and evaluating that seemed at odds with his studious appearance.

Without a word, he gathered his books, rose gracefully to his feet, and straightened his glasses. He was taller than she'd initially realized, standing nearly a head above her. Despite the scholarly appearance, she noticed his build was athletic beneath the perfectly pressed uniform.

Soo-jin's hand remained awkwardly extended between them. "I really am sorry," she tried again. "I'm new here and wasn't paying attention."

The boy brushed invisible dust from his sleeve, his movements precise and deliberate. He still hadn't spoken, hadn't acknowledged her apology in any way. Something about his silence felt more deliberate than shyness as though speaking to her was beneath him.

Then, with a final adjusting of his glasses, he simply walked around her and continued down the hallway without a backward glance, his footsteps fading on the polished marble floor.

Soo-jin stood rooted to the spot, momentarily stunned by the encounter. In her previous school, in her neighborhood, in the MMA gym—everywhere she'd been before such behavior would have been unthinkable. No matter the circumstances, basic courtesy dictated at least minimal acknowledgment.

But this wasn't her world. This was Hankuk Elite Academy, where unwritten rules governed interactions and hierarchies determined who deserved basic respect. Was this how Min-ah had been treated? Had she faced this kind of casual dismissal every day?

The thought rekindled the cold fire in Soo-jin's chest. She watched the retreating figure of the boy until he disappeared around another corner, committing his appearance to memory. In a school this size, their paths would likely cross again. Next time, she would be prepared.

Turning in the opposite direction, Soo-jin continued her exploration with renewed purpose. The encounter had been a small thing insignificant compared to whatever Min-ah had endured but it provided a visceral reminder of why she was here. This wasn't just about uncovering what had happened to her sister; it was about understanding the system that had allowed it to happen.

And as she walked the silent hallways of Hankuk Elite Academy, mapping each turn and noting each door, Soo-jin felt the weight of Min-ah's absence like a physical presence beside her. Someone in these hallways knew what had happened. Someone had either hurt her sister directly or stood by while others did.