The bustle of the first day of the new semester filled the Grade 11, Class 6 classroom. The March sunlight pouring through the window kicked up winter's stale dust into the air, but no one cared. Students were busy boasting about their vacation exploits with excited voices, seeing faces they hadn't seen all winter. The epicenter of that noise was undoubtedly the very back of the classroom, where four male students occupied a row by the window.

The first thing that caught the eye was definitely Kang Taeyang's red hair. A color that seemed to burn even more vividly in the sunlight. He sat with his chair tilted back almost to the point of falling, legs crossed. On his forearms, where his loose school shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, the black lines of an Irezumi tattoo were faintly visible, and the three or four silver piercings in his ears glinted in the light from outside. His gaze was directed toward the teacher's podium, but his focus was blurred. His expression was one of sheer boredom.

"Ah, fuck. I wonder what kind of old fossil the homeroom teacher will be this year."

The words, mixed with a lazy yawn, came from Baek Haru. He sat next to Taeyang with his chin resting on his hand, a pleasant smile hanging on his lips. His smoothly swept-back black hair and gentle eyes made him look like a model student, but the words coming out of his mouth were the foulest in the classroom.

"I just hope it's not that old man from last year. My head still hurts thinking about how he'd bitch about hair inspections every single day."

At Haru's grumbling, Seo Eunjae, sitting across from him, chuckled. His snowy blonde hair gave him a presence that stood out uniquely in the monochromatic classroom. Two shirt buttons were undone, and he wore three or four silver rings on his fingers. He had been playing a rhythm game on the smartphone he'd tossed carelessly onto the desk, and he turned off the screen with a satisfied expression, having apparently broken his high score.

"I don't care as long as it's not someone who nags about hair dye. They'll probably do another inspection at the end of this month anyway, it's already a pain."

As Eunjae grumbled and ran a hand through his blonde hair, Cha Sion, who had been quietly looking out the window, turned his head. An expressionless face, a gaze that seemed to pierce through the opponent without a sound. He was the quietest of the four, but his silence always carried a weight that couldn't be ignored.

"...Just shave it off. Then they won't say anything."

At the blunt, low voice, Eunjae cried out in horror.

"Are you crazy? Do you know what I went through to get this hair!"

"Quiet."

Sion's single word sucked the protest right out of Eunjae. Kang Taeyang curled his lip into a lopsided smirk as if the sight was amusing. He brought his tilted chair back down with a loud thud and stretched. The sound of his joints popping echoed unusually loud. The outlines of his broad shoulders and back muscles were clearly visible through his thin shirt.

"Hey, Baek Haru. Anything fun planned for this year? It's gotta be at least on the level of the broadcast accident we pulled at last year's festival."

At Taeyang's words, Haru wore a devious smile. The culprit behind the incident where idol music was blasted as background music during the principal's opening remarks at last year's school festival was none other than Baek Haru. It was a perfect collaboration combining his cunning plan, the execution of Kang Taeyang and Seo Eunjae, and Cha Sion's lookout.

"Well. First, we should have a meat party on the rooftop to celebrate the new semester. How about the empty lot next to the music room instead of the PE storage this time? The smell vents well there, and it's easy to bolt."

"I'm in. I'm craving pork belly."

Eunjae was the first to chime in excitedly. Their conversation flowed naturally, as if they were plotting a conspiracy. Scheming how to have more 'fun' at school without anyone needing to prompt the other. It was as if there was an invisible wall around them; the other students only stole glances, none of them daring to approach easily.