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THE MORNING AIR WAS AS STALE AS THE LEFTOVERS IN HER FRIDGE, and y/n was sprawled on her bed, caught in that weird space between dream and reality where everything felt heavy and slightly off-kilter. Her parents were travelling again, somewhere glamorous, talking deals and dollars while she'd fallen asleep staring at the same dull ceiling. She'd gone to bed hungry again—too tired to drag herself to the kitchen, too proud to admit she missed a warm breakfast made by someone else. Just four hours into sleep, her phone erupted into life, the buzzing slicing through the forenoon stillness and rattling her brain.

She fumbled around, eyes barely cracked open as she accepted the call without a second thought. The familiar voice on the other end made her heart lurch in relief. "Good morning, beautiful," Aisha's voice chirped, bright and playful, the kind of energy only she could bring.

Y/n let out a guttural groan, throat as dry as paper. "Heyy-" she croaked, words dragging like lead.

"Oh, someone's got morning zombie voice," Aisha giggled. "I knew it. I just had to call and make sure you didn't sleep through your first day... God, I can hear you sulking from here."

A grin cracked through the fog of her exhaustion, small but real. "You know me too well," the girl muttered, forcing herself upright. The room was dim, a grey wash of early dawn light cutting through the half-open blinds. The air was cool, and she shivered, rubbing her arms as she pushed herself to her feet.

"Of course, I do," Aisha said, softer now, a tinge of warmth threading through the call. "I know it's been hard for you. Year two of packing up your life and moving across the globe? That's... it's a lot. But you're tough, y/n/n. You got this."

"Yeah, you're right." y/n's eyes drifted to the packed bag slumped in the corner, already checked and double-checked. The ghost of last year's chaos lingered in the air, tangible enough to cut. "You always know what to say, don't you?" she added, trying to keep her voice light. Aisha had moved too, but not this far. At least she hadn't had to relearn how to breathe in an entirely different location.

"Obviously. I've got the brains and I've got the brawns. Now, hurry up. Get your ass in gear. What time is it there, anyway?"

"Six," y/n yawned, glancing at the clock that seemed frozen at its cold, early hour. "Which makes it what, like--"

"One in the afternoon here... still Sunday." Aisha interrupted, mock impatience dripping from her tone. "I just finished lunch, and I'm going shopping with the girls later. Might pick up something cute—so jealous? I bet you are."

"Always," the girl muttered with a smirk as she reached for her uniform, smoothing out the navy skirt and white shirt that had become her prison and armor all at once. "Alright, keep me on line. I need you to make sure I don't forget anything."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Aisha replied, voice teasing but steady. y/n could almost see her leaning back on a chair, earbuds in, that ever-present grin on her face.

Y/n moved around her room, grabbing the essentials—pencils, notebooks, textbooks, a worn-out planner with the corners dog-eared and scarred from use. Aisha kept up a stream of chatter, punctuated by teasing reminders like, "Don't forget that stupid ruler you never use," and "Did you pack that god-awful chemistry book you hate so much?"

"Bro I wish I could throw it in Kwon's face," y/n scoffed, half under her breath.

Aisha's laughter peeled through the phone, sharp and wicked. "Oh, him. I still can't believe you're stuck with that asshole. What's he even done to deserve you as a tutor? Was God bored or something?"

"Must be Karma for begging you to do all my physics homework for me back in Freshman year," y/n sighed, teeth gritted as she shoved the book into her bag, making the brunette on the other line chuckle. The weight of it was more than physical—it carried every frustrating, blood-boiling session of him pretending not to listen, making snide comments that danced just on the edge of inappropriate. And yet, he always knew exactly what she said. It made her blood boil.

"He's such an asshole," Aisha said, but her tone was lighter, teasing. "You know, you could always just deck him. One punch, and--"

"Ha-ha. Not happening. You know what my parents said. One more 'incident,' and I'm done for." y/n's voice dropped at the word 'incident,' the room thickening with silence for a beat too long.

"Y/n..." Aisha's voice softened. "You're more than what happened, okay? I know it's hard. But you're here now, miles and miles away from that mess. You deserve a fresh start. Don't let anyone take that from you. Especially not some idiot in leopard print socks."

A smile cracked y/n's lips. It wasn't perfect, but it was something. "Thanks, Aish. I needed that."

"Always," Aisha said, a smile evident in her voice. "Now, go on. Brush your damn teeth. I can practically smell your morning breath from the phone."

Y/n snorted, putting the call on hold as she made her way to the bathroom. The shower was quick and scalding, the only thing that seemed to wash away the heaviness that clung to her skin. When she clicked back onto the call, towel-drying her hair with one hand and balancing her phone with the other, Aisha was still there, ranting about her plans for the day.

"—so I told Jared he can't pull off neon green the same way my girl Billie can, but does he listen? Hell no... Anyway, you ready now? What's the plan for today? Murder Korn with kindness?"

Y/n chuckled, the sound short but genuine as she grabbed a brush, yanking it through the tangles in her hair. "Something like that. If I survive the day without stabbing him, it'll be a miracle."

"Hey, miracles happen. You're proof of that," Aisha said, her tone playful again. "Now, remember, he's beneath you. I mean, literally and figuratively. You're smart, you're focused, and he's... what? A muscled dodo with an ego the size of the forest he practices karate in? You got this."

"Thanks for the pep talk," y/n yawned again as she got dressed, and did her makeup (optional). It was basic but enough. The girl in the mirror looked like she could hold her own, even if she wasn't sure she could. Before she knew it, the hour had passed, and she was grabbing a quick bowl of cereal, swallowing it down with a grimace. Her mom's warm breakfasts felt like a distant memory. It didn't matter, she told herself. Food was fuel, nothing more.

"Alright, I'm out the door," she said, slinging her bag over her shoulder and shutting the door behind her with a heavy click. The air was sharp, despite it being only march, biting at her cheeks as she walked. "Hey, Y/n?" Aisha's voice came through, softer now. "Don't forget, I'm proud of you. And screw Kwon. If he gives you shit, just imagine him slipping on a banana peel, and into a pile of legos. Works every time." Y/n laughed, loud and sudden, catching the attention of a passing student who shot her a confused look. "Will do," she said, voice brighter than it had been all morning.

They chatted as she walked, with y/n occasionally venting about her worries, about the weight of expectations pressing on her chest, and Aisha reminding her, over and over, that she wasn't alone. As she stepped through the school gates, she saw the security guard, Mr. Jeong, yelling at someone. Not just anyone... It was Jae-sung, to no one's surprise. "Hey, you there?" Asked the brunette after a minute of silence followed. "Huh? Y-yeah." y/n's attention was redirected. When she mentioned Kwon, her friend's snark was in full force. "Ugh, him. He's like... the human equivalent of a traffic jam. Just when you think you're making progress, there he is, ruining everything."

Y/n's giggle was genuine this time, ringing out in the crisp morning. "You make it bearable, you know that?"

"I'm your best friend. It's my job," Aisha said. "Now go kick today's ass, y/n. You're better than him, and don't you dare forget it."

"I won't," she promised, gripping her bag a little tighter as she stepped through the door, the day stretching out before her like an unwritten page. 

The morning rush was already thickening the halls with a low hum of chatter, sneaker squeaks, and hushed gossips as y/n stepped into the school building. She'd barely taken three steps past the front doors when the world around her seemed to freeze and shatter all at once. A sudden, ice-cold cascade doused her, the shock locked up her breath, and before she could piece together what had just happened, she felt the liquid soaking through her uniform, sticky and staining. Gasps rippled through the crowd, a few muffled snickers too. y/n blinked, heart thundering as her eyes landed on Yoo-mi, who stood before her with a faux-apologetic pout that could've won an award for the worst acting on the planet.

"Oh my god, l/n! I'm sooo sorry," Yoo-mi cooed, voice dripping with saccharine insincerity. Her eyes sparkled with the kind of joy that came only from watching someone else's misery. "You should really watch where you're going, you know? Wouldn't want this to happen again, would we?"

A chorus of giggles followed. A few bystanders snickered, others watched with interest, their expressions frozen somewhere between sympathy and amusement.

Y/n's hands trembled at her sides, and the embarrassment simmered into anger, raw and dangerous. The stench of cold coffee filled her nostrils, mingling with the heat of humiliation burning up her cheeks. Every ounce of her screamed to do something—kick, yell, run... anything. The ghost of her old self itched at her fingertips, but she gritted her teeth and swallowed it down. 'A promise is a promise. You don't need another fight.' She reminded herself.

"Careful, Yoo-mi," one of her friends called from the sidelines, sarcasm coating every word. "I think she's going to cry." The laugh that followed was shrill and cruel. 

Y/n's nails dug into her palms, the pain a welcome distraction from the shame roiling in her chest. "Cry?" She scoffed, letting out a mirthless laugh, but before she could teach those motherfuckers a lesson, Aisha's voice buzzed through the phone, the sound grounding her just enough to prevent her from snapping. "What's going on? Are you alright?"

The girl's breath caught, and she managed a shaky response. "Yeah, just... give me a sec," she whispered, the words feeling like glass shards in her throat. Without sparing another glance at Yoo-mi or the smug crowd of onlookers, she rolled her eyes and walked, bumping her shoulders with the bitch with enough strength to give her a silent warning without physically retaliating, keeping her steps steady even as every part of her felt like crumbling. Murmurs followed her down the hall. She could feel her shirt clinging to her skin, cold and disgusting, like an iron brand of degradation. The laughter, the whispers—it all pressed against her, trying to suffocate what little composure she had left.

Aisha's voice was still there, faintly muffled, and y/n's chest tightened as she reached the bathroom door and pushed it open, the latch clicking shut with a sound that felt too final.

"I'm fine," she lied into the phone as she set it on the edge of the sink, staring into the mirror at her reflection. Her hair was a mess, her eyes sharp and wet with fury she wouldn't dare let fall. The wet stain spread across her chest like a badge she didn't ask for.

"Y/n, that sounded like—"

"Just... a bad start, okay?" y/n cut in, trying for strength and landing somewhere between weary and defeated. "We'll talk later."

Aisha was quiet for a second, the kind of quiet that screamed concern, but she didn't push. "Alright. Call me tonight, yeah?"

"Yeah." y/n ended the call before she let her voice betray her.

She grabbed a handful of paper towels, scrubbing at her shirt like she could erase the last ten minutes of her life. It was pointless; the brown stain only smudged and bled wider. She exhaled shakily, bracing herself with one hand against the sink.

"FUCK-" She cursed, unable to hold in any longer, and punched the dispenser off the wall, breaking it. She didn't even bother to fix it or hide. Instead, she rolled her eyes and decided to go to the office to see if they had any spare jackets she could use to cover up.  As she stormed outside, pushing the door open with a lot more force than needed, she crossed paths with a shadow she daren't notice. Her only goal was to find a spare change of clothes 2 minutes before her first lesson.

But as the shadow moved, his dark eyes caught the glint of coffee-wet fabric. Kwon paused, brows furrowing in thought. He'd seen it all, the whole pathetic display from where he leaned against the door of the principal's office, arms crossed as if none of it mattered. But it did. He knew the girl well enough by now; the summer spent enduring her venomous quips and frosty silences told him that much. Today, though, there had been no barbed words. Just silence.

And for some reason, that silence sat heavy in his chest as he walked away.

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