3 years ago

St. Green Private Girls’ School, the crown jewel of the country’s education system, is a glittering dream on every social feed. On Instagram and Facebook, parents flaunted their children’s acceptance letters like trophies, and students nationwide burned through sleepless nights just for a shot at its gates.

A sprawling campus of over twenty thousand square meters, sunlight streaming through spotless glass halls, and state-of-the-art dormitories. A paradise sculpted to mold the future’s brightest daughters.

The principal of St. Green, Park Eun Woo, sat at his plain desk. No gaudy gold nameplate, only a neat photo frame of his greatest pride: a picture of his young daughter, Hyun Joo. Next year, she would step into these hallways. He liked to believe she would inherit a safe, shining kingdom.

A gentle knock at his open door pulled him from his thoughts.

Two girls entered without waiting for permission. They could have been sisters: the same refined faces, the same air of practiced grace. Yet they were shadows cast in different hues.

The girl in front let moonlight-blue waves fall over her shoulder like a queen’s cloak; the one behind her had hair so dark it drank in the light. Both wore the special purple uniform of the student council’s elite.

The principal forced a polite smile.

“Kim Jae Hwa, correct?” he said. “President of the student council, barely sworn in and already ignoring decorum. Is that how you plan to set an example?”

The blue-haired girl, Jae Hwa, didn’t bother to sit properly. She perched herself on the edge of his desk, eyes void of any warmth.

“I’m not here for small talk, Principal Park,” she said flatly. “I’m here because I want more power.”

The principal laughed under his breath, tapping a finger on her file.

“Arrogant child. The council already controls discipline, events, and even internal regulations. What more do you want to tighten around your throat?”

Jae Hwa tilted her head, studying him like a specimen in a jar.

“I want to rebuild the system. Right now, this school lies to itself: equal rights, fair treatment, shared privileges. How naïve. The real world laughs at that fantasy. So why should we indulge it here?”

The principal’s polite smile faded. “Go on.”

The black-haired one, Jae Sol, stepped forward this time, her tone dripping with mock sweetness.

“We divide the classes. Rank by rank, power by power. Those who obey thrive; those who don’t learn the price of defiance. Society in miniature. It will train them well.”

She leaned against the wall.

“And the parents? Don’t worry. We’ll keep the dorms closed off. Outside, our PR team shows them smiling photos and spotless grades. Inside detention, outside deception. Parents think everything is fine, students endure but wouldn’t dare to fight back. Keep things confidential; this will be convenient for both parties.”

The principal’s knuckles whitened around his pen. “So you want me to sanction an open hierarchy of abuse and exploitation? You think your little families can protect you when this erupts?”

Jae Sol’s smile turned sharp.

“We’re not asking permission, Sir.”

Jae Hwa spoke again.

“One rumor about you misusing school funds for your daughter’s future, one anonymous tip to the board, and you lose everything. Or you accept reality and keep your throne.”

The room was silent, except for the faint buzz of the ceiling light. Outside, the idyllic garden glowed under the spring sun. A perfect facade.

Park Eun Woo’s shoulders sagged under the weight of his powerlessness. He had once dreamed of building a haven for girls like his Hyun Joo. Now he was caging them for wolves to feast on.

“…Fine,” he whispered hoarsely. “Do as you wish. But mark my words: the more you raise yourself above this place, the harder you’ll fall when it crumbles.”

Jae Hwa’s lips curled — not quite a smile, more like a ghost of triumph. She hopped off the desk, flicked imaginary dust from her sleeve, and turned away without so much as a thank-you.

Jae Sol lingered at the door, smiling at him with all the mock respect like a daughter mocking her father.

“Good choice, Principal Park. We’ll take good care of your precious school.”

And then they were gone.

Eun Woo pressed trembling fingers to his temples, staring at the photo of Hyun Joo, his bright-eyed, innocent daughter.

“Brats…” he hissed into the empty room. “God help you when this burns.”