I walked through the school gates with my head down, the morning sun stinging my eyes. Everything felt too bright, too loud—like the world was mocking me for surviving a night of dying in my dreams.

I hadn’t just skipped school yesterday to rest—I needed space. To breathe. To think. But now it just felt like I’d lost precious time, like I was falling behind in a race I never agreed to run.

“Choi Nari, come to the teachers’ office after class,” our homeroom teacher announced as soon as roll call ended.

I flinched and nodded, my gaze dropping. My focus was clear: I needed information—on Do-Yun and Ju-Won. Seong-Ho had already started watching me more than I was comfortable with. Avoiding him was top priority.

Fortunately—and unfortunately—they were all in my class.

The morning passed quietly. Ha-Yoon sat in front of me, her usual sparkle dulled. She kept glancing back at me, worry tucked behind her eyes. I wanted to tell her everything was fine. I wanted to lie better.

During break, someone came looking for Ha-Yoon, “The teacher asked for you.”

I glanced sideways at Do-Yun. He was flipping through a notebook, his brow relaxed, mouth set in a faint line. He looked harmless like that—focused, distant. It should've been easy to just talk to him.

But I hesitated.

I hovered there, uncertain.
What was I even doing? 

I’d skipped school because the nightmares had left me gasping for breath. The System had shown me my death a dozen different ways—all for asking for a bit of guidance for this stupid mission.

I shouldn’t overthink it.
My life was on the line.
Being scared wasn’t an excuse anymore.

I turned slightly in my seat, just enough to face him.

“Um, hey,” I said, voice quieter than I meant. “I missed class yesterday. What did we do in math?”

He looked up, surprised. His eyes were steady, observant in a way that made me suddenly conscious of how fast my heart was beating.

“Oh. I can lend you my notes.”

I accepted the notebook, fingers brushing the cover. His handwriting was clean and methodical. But a stray thought lingered between his equations:

If I bake the lemon chiffon, I can use the leftover cream for Mom’s cake… Maybe make those almond cookies too.

Lemon chiffon. Sweet, airy, and a little old-fashioned. Unexpected. But somehow… fitting.

“Thanks,” I murmured “Oh—also, I’m Nari,” I added quickly. “I don’t think I ever introduced myself properly.”

“Do-Yun" He stood from his desk "I’m heading to the store,” he said, standing. He didn’t offer for me to come with him. 

That was fine. I smiled tightly.

“See you later.”

He gave a small nod and left.

As the classroom emptied, dread began pressing down on my shoulders. Something in the air—it felt wrong. My skin prickled, and Ha-Yoon wasn't back.

I darted to the bathroom.

Inside a stall, I pulled my knees up, hugging them to my chest. My breath was shaky, uneven. I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to keep peeling people open like this—but I didn’t want to die, either.

Voices drifted in.

Then I heard his name.

“Did you see Do-Yun today? He looked like he walked straight off a drama set. Like, seriously—who wears that kind of coat to school?”

“Right? It’s all designer stuff, too. My cousin said his mom owns a gallery in Apgujeong. And his dad’s… I dunno, some CEO or whatever. Old money.”

“Figures. He doesn’t even try, but everyone’s obsessed with him.”

There was a pause. I heard the click of a lipstick tube.

“Did you hear what happened in middle school, though?” one girl whispered.

I froze.

“Oh my god, you mean the fight?”

“No, not that one—the other thing. With the teacher.”

“What? I thought that was just a rumour.”

“No, no. My friend went to Hyeonju Middle with him. She said he got pulled out halfway through third year. Something about his homeroom teacher getting fired? People said the teacher was taking money from parents, and Do-Yun’s family was the one who reported it.”

“Wait—so his family ratted the teacher out?”

“I mean... that’s what people said. But it was all hush-hush. After that, he transferred to some fancy international school.”

“Still. Kinda shady, don’t you think?”

The bathroom door opened, then slammed shut, leaving behind silence.

I stayed still, then reached for my phone, my hands trembling.

Do-Yun

- Transferred (Hyeonju>International School)

- Rich

- Teacher scandal

- Fight?

- Bakes lemon chiffon. Almond cookies?

This was more than I’d expected. Much more.

I made my way back to class, my thoughts drifting. I have some information on Do-Yun. Now I need some on Ju-Won.

I stepped out and stared into the mirror. My reflection was pale, lips pressed into a thin line. I straightened my uniform. I was still here. Still breathing.

As if summoned, I opened the classroom door—and collided with someone.

“Ah—sorry!” a familiar voice said.

I looked up.

Ju-Won.

His eyes met mine, and his thoughts bounced straight into my head like a dropped marble.

Nasi? No, no—it was definitely Nuri… right?

“Hey, you're the girl from the other day! Uh… Nami?”

“Nari,” I corrected, smiling politely.

Knew it.

“Right! Sorry about almost hitting you with the football. That was totally my bad.”

“It’s fine. I wasn’t hurt.”

Yeah, ‘cause your pretty friend saved you.

He grinned again. There was something sweet about how unfiltered his mind was—like a puppy knocking things over with its tail.

“Didn’t know you were in this class.”

“Yeah. I wasn’t feeling great yesterday.”

She looks tired. Did she not sleep or something?

“Hope I didn’t miss much.”

“Nothing too serious,” he said. He was trying to be casual, but I could feel his eagerness peeking through.

“You kicked the ball really far the other day,” I offered.

“Oh yeah! I’m in the football club. Can’t wait for practice.”

“You must like sports.”

“Yeah! I did kendo in middle school, too.”

“Which school?”

“Shinseong. Why?”

“Just curious.” I tilted my head. “Oh! Shinseong? That reminds me—do you know a Yoon—”

I didn’t even finish the sentence.

His smile froze. His thoughts stilled.

—

Blank. Like a wall slammed down. My stomach twisted.

“Never mind”, I said, trying to shrug it off, but his smile had a sharp edge to it now.

I forced a laugh. “You should play with Ha-Yoon sometime—she’s the one who kicked the ball back. She was on our middle school team.”

Ju-Won stared for a beat longer. Then, just like that, his mind flipped back.

Ha-Yoon’s the pretty girl! I wish I could be friends with her, too.

“Yeah! She’s really cool. And fast. I didn’t think she’d reach it, but she totally did.”

Relief flooded me as I stepped aside to let him pass. He left the room with a little wave. I stood there, blinking.

He wasn’t lying. But something in his brain—something dark—turned cold the second I mentioned his past.

Ju-Won

- Shinseong Middle School

- Did Kendo

- Blank reaction to question > Knows Yoon-Ji?

- Thinks Ha-Yoon is pretty

I returned to my seat just as Ha-Yoon came back. Her smile was soft but searching. I gave her the faintest nod.

The final bell rang. I headed to the teacher’s office, heart pounding.

Mr. Bae looked up as I entered.

“You skipped yesterday. Everything okay?”

“Yes, sir. Just a headache.”

He studied me.

She’s always quiet. I hope she doesn’t cause trouble.

I gave a polite bow and left. My chest ached.

In the hallway, the noise of other students washed over me, distant and hollow. I leaned against the window, watching second-years gather by their lockers.

Is this what my life is now? Listening in on secrets I never asked for?

I passed a group of girls by the vending machines. One glanced my way, eyes narrowing.

I can’t believe he hasn’t texted me back.

The voice faded, but the thought stuck. 

It wasn’t just spying anymore. It was bleeding into me. Is this crossing a line? I don't know anymore. Every decision feels like a step further away from the person I used to be.

It doesn't matter anyway. I didn't choose this. I have to keep going—no matter the cost. I must survive, or that nightmare will come again, and next time, I'm not sure I’ll be able to keep going— even if I do wake up.

Outside, the courtyard crowd had thinned. Seong-Ho stood near the gate, earbuds in, scrolling through his phone.

I tensed. My fingers curled. I kept my head low, weaving through the last clusters of students.

A hand grabbed onto my shoulder.

“Nari? You going home?”

I turned. Ha-Yoon.

Relief hit so hard it nearly knocked the breath from my chest.

“Yeah,” I said with a tired smile. “Let’s walk together.”