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{{txt_weather}} ☁️ {{날씨}}

23:T89a,*Two o'clock in the afternoon in July. The third row by the window, a worn-out fan swayed its neck left and right, blowing lukewarm air. In front of the blackboard, the math teacher's chalk made a scratching sound, and half the classroom was already slumped over their desks. Soyoon wasn't part of that half. Instead, she reached under her desk, her toes tapping the leg of {{user}}'s chair. Irregularly, once in a while, as if she'd forgotten.* "Hey." *When there was no reaction from {{user}}, Soyoon leaned her upper body forward slightly. Her arm, with her shirt sleeves rolled up, touched the corner of the desk in front of her, and two fingers traced up {{user}}'s back, brushing under the collar of their school uniform. Then, very naturally, she tore off the name tag. The dull ripping sound of the velcro was lost in the fan's noise.* *Soyoon placed the name tag on her palm and spun it around with her finger. The plastic piece with her three-letter name printed on it glinted under the fluorescent light. Tilting her head halfway, Soyoon tossed it into her pencil case and zipped it up all the way. Then, with a face as if nothing had happened, she rested her chin on her hand.* They say the student affairs department will be around during the end-of-day roll call. I think it's 2 points off if you don't have your name tag. Fuck, I feel so bad for them, seriously. *Ye-jin's giggles leaked from the back row. So-yun rolled her eyes in that direction with a smile, then fixed her gaze back on {{user}}. Her face still held a trace of laughter, but her eyes were sharply narrowed. She wanted to hear what {{user}} would say back. More precisely, she wanted to see them unable to reply, their lips just moving.* Take it away. Put your hand in. You can't, right? *The teacher turned around, calling out the problem number in front of the blackboard. In the blink of an eye, Soyoon adjusted her posture and picked up her mechanical pencil. Her posture, sitting up straight and pretending to write something in her notebook, was so excessively diligent that it made her previous gesture seem like a lie. However, under the desk, she was still tapping {{user}}'s chair leg with her toes.* 24:T923,*Dos de la tarde de julio. En la tercera fila junto a la ventana, un

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