Chapter Two: Reuniting


This is the first day of many days in school and Namjoon is already exhausted.

His head was aching. The girl who he's supposed to be touring is late, 10 minutes late to be exact. He's agitated to say the least— he's stuck with escorting new sophomore students instead of doing his own class, the juniors. 

"I heard that the new girl is Chinese," a male student comments, hand twisting the dial of his locker left and right. He lightly bangs his locker after inputting the wrong combination and tries again.

"Really? Ten says she's Thai, but another told me she's Japanese. He was excited there's another Thai and I was excited that there's another Japanese," his peer nonchalantly said as he leaned his left shoulder against the lockers, amused that his friend kept failing on opening the locker. "Dude, did you forget how to open it??"

"Yeu—"

"Yuta, do you need help?" Namjoon offers.

"—p."

Namjoon saw the shock register on Winwin and Yuta's face before they could hide it, causing their ears to redden from embarrassment. A small smile played on the president's lips as Yuta stutters out a simple "yes". There was an awkward silence between the three— only the voices of other students and the sound of the dial twisting from side to side was heard. The duo wanted to say something, anything to break the cold ice that surround them yet they couldn't muster a single word. Namjoon's unexpected appearance snatched the words right out off their mouths, freezing them to stones as if Medusa was the one who looked at them straight in the eyes.

"Which new girl are you guys talking about?" Namjoon cooly asks. "Maybe I could help you guys figure it out."

"Oh— Um she's from your class... Mr. Pres," Yuta mutters.

"Ahh... (Y/N) (L/N)? She's Korean. Her family travels all over the place, maybe that's why the rumors say she's from Thailand, Japan, China, etcetera."

"Oh," Yuta and Winwin said in unison.

"Do you guys know where she is? The original girl I'm supposed to tour isn't here yet and I want to make better use of my time."

"All I know is that she's with Jooyoung at the moment. While Yuta and I were coming here, I saw a peak of them walking to Mr. Gong Yoo's classroom."

"Thank you."

"No problem Mr. Pres."

"I'll take my leave. See you two around." Namjoon slightly bows his head and began his walk towards (Y/N) and Jooyoung's location.

Namjoon couldn't help but to think about this new girl. She wasn't new to him per se, he found out that (Y/N) was transferring here during summer, when his father urged him to volunteer in the school. Needless to say, it wasn't much work— the hours ranged from seven am to one pm at noon, but with his other activities that his father and mother arranged for him, volunteering was nothing but a worthless hindrance.

Well... that's what he thought.

An hour before leaving, a staff member gave him a set of papers that contained information about an incoming student. He was ordered to process them into their school's database. Namjoon of course politely took the folder, forcing a meaningless smile and watched the staff leave the room before sighing heavily.

He rolled his head a full three hundred sixty degrees and cracked his knuckles. His eyes scans the folder before flipping it open. There was a moment where Namjoon's face washed blank with utter incertitude, like his brain couldn't process the information from his wide eyes. Every fibrous tissue of his body froze until a grin crept onto his face, then it soon stretched from one side to the other, showcasing his pearl white teeth.

"Nice to meet you again too, (Y/N)," Namjoon shakes her hand, mind noting how soft it felt. "It's been too long, how have you been?"

"Better than before actually."

"You two know each other?" Jooyoung questions.

"Yes," (Y/N) responded.

"What a small world..."

"Indeed," Namjoon chimes giddily. "Jooyoung, can you take care of the girl I'm suppose to tour? She isn't here yet and you know that I have many things to do than wait for her. I'll take Ms. (L/N) instead of old time's sake."

"Of course Mr. Pres. See you around (Y/N)."

Jooyoung bows without exchanging another word. She kept her gaze straight, fighting the will to look back and change her decision, but it's too late now. Her tongue travels along her lower lips then bit them; her eyes remained blank and so was her expression.

"She's odd," (Y/N) stated nonchalantly.

"It's barely your first day, you shouldn't make assumptions," Namjoon laughs.

"At least it isn't a negative assumption."

"An assumption is still an assumption. Have you ever heard of never judge a book by its cover? You two haven't spent a long time together."

"Maybe my assumptions aren't assumptions at all. Maybe that's what she really is: odd. I mean... look at us. We didn't spend a lot of time together, but we know each other's personalities... well... some aspect of each other's personalities. Aren't I right, Namjoon?"

"Still arrogant and stubborn aren't you (Y/N)?"

"You didn't answer my question."

Namjoon slightly tilted his head, tongue poking the inside of his mouth. "Yes," he admitted unsurely.

(Y/N) softly laughs. "And is that what you see me as? Arrogant and stubborn?"

"That's how you portray yourself as. No offense."

"None taken." (Y/N) nudges her head forward, indicating Namjoon to continue the tour. "I never really saw myself as that, but it's not necessarily such a bad thing."

"I don't even want to ask why it's not a bad thing when those two adjectives are known to have negative connotations."

There was a moment of silence between them; Namjoon fidgeted with his fingers, unsure of what to say— he occasionally pointed at rooms and informed her what they're used for, but nothing more. He wanted to talk to her, possibly catch up a bit and maybe offer an alliance— Namjoon means a friendship yet there was something stopping him, a certain part of their relationship that troubled them in the past.

"Are you still mad at me?"

"Huh?"

"I— sorry— I mean... you know, in middle school, I was a bit harsh on you. We had conflict—"

"We were rivals, Namjoon. Rivals. I was sure that you're knowledgeable enough to know that vocabulary."

"I... I know," he rubs the nape of his neck. "I just want us to forget it and become friends...?"

(Y/N) stops and looks at him. "Friends?" She repeated. "No."

Namjoon's smile fades and is replaced by a frown. "Why?"

She looked at him instead of answering. Namjoon understood the aura and therefore decided not to question her any further— he was afraid that he might be stepping over boundaries. He was always sure of everything until he met her in eight grade. The first semester began and she was on the opposite side of the room from where he sat; he clearly remembers where it all began: first period, in math.

Namjoon hated math, but (Y/N) didn't.

It was the only subject that's consistent in every country.

(Y/N) corrected a mistake he did in front of the class; he hated the humiliation and the look of his classmates' faces staring at him. Namjoon thought to himself, 'I... I only did one thing wrong? Why are they looking at me like it's such a big deal?! Do they think they're better than me because of such small thing??'

After that day, Namjoon made sure he was the one correcting her. In a way, he succeeded, but in another way... he didn't. He wanted to see her expression dampen as he shoves the fact that he is better than her, but all he received was a nonchalant look.

It's as if Namjoon had no significance in her life for her to care enough. In reality, she lashed at herself for being so... stupid... so incompetent... so useless. That was the only thing she was good at and yet she failed.

For a while, Namjoon thought of her as a robot disguised as a human. She moved and talked like everyone else, sometimes throwing in corny jokes, and appeared to be socially awkward. She could either be a self-assured person, or charming, or egotistical. (Y/N) changes her personality according to the person she's with; she could read micro-facial expressions and alter conversations accordingly. As the first semester of eight grade gradually came to an end, he realized he still doesn't know who she is.

What he doesn't know, he fears, and what he fears, he destroy.

A corner of (Y/N)'s lips painfully curves upwards. "I think you already know why."

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.

"I do know why... and it's tearing me up inside," Namjoon rants, feeling helpless. "I just wish she could be straight up to me and tell me what I need to do to make things right."

His friend, who's currently eating his lunch across from Namjoon, nods. He's trying to listen, but the delectable taste of the kimchi fried rice dancing on his tastebuds made it incredibly hard to comprehend the situation.

"Maybe she's not straight," his friend murmurs.

"What?"

"What?" Yuri settles his spoon on top of his meal and clasps his hand. "Maybe be more direct to her?"

"I was direct."

"Obviously not enough... look hyung I really don't know what to tell you... maybe she might be totally different from eight grade...?" Yuri says, unsure of his suggestion. He settles his spoon down and took a sip of his water.

Park Yuri has been Namjoon's friend since the 2nd year of high school. Everyone calls the two "brothers from another family" because of how close the two are, though their features do have a striking resemblance. Namjoon, being a year older, basically adopted Yuri as his younger brother.

"That girl never changes," Namjoon retorts.

"You never know..." He shrugs. "Oh! I got an idea. In two weeks, it's the school's official camping trip, you could work solving things out there."

"Mmm... that's a good idea."

"Hyung."

"Yeah?"

"You don't have any underlying feelings for her right? Like the reason why you want to reconcile with her is because you secretly have a crush. You know, basic fanfic stuff."

"You gotta stop reading those," Namjoon shook his head, "and no, I believe that I don't. Why are you asking this?"

Yuri let's out a nervous giggle. "N-Nothing."

"Park Yuri, I know when you're lying."

"It's just I don't want you to feel jealous or anything— I don't want to jeopardize our friendship you know? In the morning, I saw her walk out of her house— turns out she lives in the same street as me. Of course, I didn't know who she was at that time until I saw her in the morning with you. So I thought, 'oh they look like they know each other so they must be friends'. You already know my friends are your friends, your friends are—"

"Get to the point please." Namjoon taps his foot in an anxious manner, somehow afraid of Yuri's upcoming words.

"I asked her if she wanted to ride with me in the morning. I offered afternoon too, but she has other stuff to do... so yeah..."

"What did she say?"

"Well— she said sure."

"Exactly what she said."

"That's it. Just a simple yes."

"Oh... nothing else?"

"She also gave me her number!" Yuri raises his phone, eyes twinkling with giddy. "And I asked her if she wanted to—"

"Eat lunch with you guys," (Y/N) finishes Yuri's sentence as she sets her tray down on the table, not minding the confused look on Namjoon's face, and sat down next to Yuri. "Hey."

"He-Hey noona," a tint of red stained the younger boy's cheeks. "...and Jooyoung sunbaenim?"

"You don't mind if she sit with us right?" (Y/N) asks in a hopeful tone.

(Y/N) didn't hide how much she wanted Jooyoung to sit them; quite frankly, Namjoon heavily questioned (Y/N)'s purpose of inviting his senior. When lunch started, he caught a glimpse of Jooyoung sitting alone in her usual spot, maybe (Y/N) felt pity for his senior and for that reason, might've invited her to sit with them. That doesn't make sense. From what he knows, (Y/N) isn't that type of girl.

Jooyoung has something— perhaps a lot of things that (Y/N) wants.

"Of course not! The more the merrier!" Yuri welcomes another person to his small group. "How have you been Jooyoung sunbaenim?"

"Good," she quickly answers.

"Are you excited for the school's camping trip?"

"Yeah."

"Oh.. okay." Yuri looks at Namjoon for help. He realized that their conversation isn't going nowhere.

"I heard something earlier," (Y/N) spoke up, "while I was walking here. It's kinda ironic actually. The school administrators preached that they strive to have a peaceful environment. I do admit they did say that students can fake their personal statement, but it's... Every. Single. Person. I've encountered in the hallways that had faked it. Well cutting to the chase, I heard students talking shitty about Jooyoung."

Just as (Y/N) mentioned her name, Jooyoung's head shot to her direction. (Y/N) smirks— her eyes remained fixated on the tray, hands moving in a circular motion as she mixes her food. Unlike the three anxious students around her, she remained calm and continues in her usual monotone voice, "they said that you're a worthless flunky who should just give up and.. drop... out. That you've been in the student council for way too long and someone should replace you. I guess they were just too jealous that you get to talk to our lovely Mr. Pres over here everyday."

Jooyoung's eyes were as emotionless as the rest of her face, as if what (Y/N) had told her something she couldn't absorb. The tick of Yuri's watch reverberated against her ear drums and she was frozen for at least a second or two before she finally snapped out.

"We should report th—" Yuri proposed, hands against the table as he prepared to leave for the principal's office, but Namjoon stopped him. "Hyung?"

Namjoon crossed his hands over his chest, nudging his head downwards to signal Yuri to stay on his seat and listen first. The president observed (Y/N), trying to figure out her ulterior motives. He mentally applauded (Y/N) for keeping her voice monotone; in that way, no one could figure what she's truly feeling of the situation. Does she simply not care at all? What is she waiting for?

"What do you think we should do (Y/N)?" Namjoon questioned the female.

"We should hear what Jooyoung has to say first," (Y/N) deadpanned, her eyes now moving slowly to focus on Jooyoung's face.

Yuri shot up, heat flaring from his nostrils, "what they said is terrible! All of those mean things, how could they say that?! Sunbae, we should go to the Principal's offi—"

"No need," Jooyoung's stated, "they aren't lying. I would be mad if they're spreading false rumors, but they aren't. I've been a senior for three years, I should've graduated two years ago, but I didn't. I deserve to be in the student council because I've worked hard to be in my position so I don't care what they say about me."

"There's your answer Yuri. Sit down please and don't make a scene," Namjoon ordered, to which Yuri obeyed. 

"Thank you for telling me (Y/N), I appreciate it."

"No problem, Jooyoung. It's the right thing to do anyways," she bitterly said. Her thumb unconsciously pushes the top of the spoon backwards and when she realized it, she quickly tucked it down underneath the table, unaware that Namjoon saw everything.

"I'm quite embarrassed that this is one of the first things you heard about me. Being a flunky and all."

"Don't be. Everyone have a part of their past that they want to forget about. We try our best to hide it, but somehow, in some way, it comes back in a full circle— taunting us ten times fold," a hallow smile appeared on her plumped lips.

As Namjoon and (Y/N) lock eyes over the cafeteria table, her eyes, once empty and cold, overflowed with emotions. She held his gaze as Yuri cracked a joke while Jooyoung laughs— (Y/N)'s face tilted back, eyes glancing towards the exit; then she speaks with the same tone she uses, "I'm finished with my meal. I'll go on and head to class in advance. See you guys later." And with that, she makes her way to the disposal area to throw away her untouched meal, then turns to the left that allows her gaze to never meet his again.

"She's something," Yuri commented.

"Yeah, I like her," Jooyoung agrees. "I can tell she's driven. How about you Mr. Pres? What do you think about her?"

"She's good. When she wants to be at least," he trails, "just... don't let your guard down. Consider that as a warning."

Namjoon left the table with a storm clouding his brain, winds carrying incomprehensible thoughts... there were hundreds of ideas of what (Y/N) is planning— she still saw him as a rival, an enemy and he was sure of it. She's the buzzes of electricity that's threatening to break out in a thunder, setting fire on the roots of his brain to destroy and take over him. She gives him no choice— the only way for him to survive is to let the thunder pass as he watches the devastation it caused from afar.

'What game are you playing, (Y/N)?'

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Author's Note

Oooh the story is going to be quickly escalating!

What do you think (Y/N)'s personality is?

—France💛

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