2 years later

Y/N'S POV

“I can’t believe prom is just a few weeks away!” Yunjin exclaimed, her voice practically dripping with excitement. Her enthusiasm was contagious, and I couldn’t help but chuckle softly, though my gaze soon shifted to the imposing structure of our school looming just ahead. Its familiar silhouette somehow felt heavier today.

A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I stepped through the school gates. The lively hum of chatter and the warmth of familiar smiles greeted me like an old, comforting melody. It felt natural, almost instinctive, to walk alongside Yunjin toward the cluster of friends beckoning us with enthusiastic waves.

“Yunjin! Yoona! Over here!” Taehyung’s unmistakable voice rang out, cutting through the noise, and for a moment, everything seemed to slow. His cheerful tone was as vibrant as ever, but my throat tightened, a lump forming that I desperately tried to swallow. That name—his voice—carried a weight I wasn’t ready to confront.

——

It may have been two years since I changed my name, but it’s something I doubt I’ll ever truly grow accustomed to.

Over time, I had transformed myself entirely—my once-distinctive hair and eyes now a nondescript shade of brown. The change rendered me invisible to the media and, for that matter, to anyone at all. And so, I began anew, living under the guise of Choi Yoona.

With this carefully constructed identity, I found myself re-enrolled in high school, conveniently passing as an eighteen-year-old once again. All the years I had poured into my Psychology and Criminal Justice majors, all the work I’d accomplished—they had been discarded as if they meant nothing. Yet, surprisingly, I didn’t mind.

My foster mother had kept me under strict control, forbidding friendships or extracurricular activities in her obsessive fear that I might rebel and refuse to use my so-called “gift.” All I had ever wanted was a semblance of normalcy, to spend my days with people my own age. Now, at last, I had that chance.

I had joined the hockey club. Sports came naturally to me, and for the first time, I had friends—real friends—who had stood by my side since the day I arrived.

And here I was, in my final year of high school, dreaming of a future that seemed within reach. I planned to pursue a degree in Daegu Veterinary Science, sharing that aspiration with Kazuha, one of my closest friends.

But no one knew my secret. No one could ever know. That secret was the foundation of the life I’d painstakingly built for myself, and revealing it would mean the collapse of everything. I wasn’t willing to sacrifice the peace I had fought so hard to create.

——

I stood amidst my group of friends, letting my gaze drift over each of them. The lively hum of chatter filled the air, and I found myself drawn into a conversation with Jisoo about the upcoming guest speaker scheduled for next week.

“I can’t believe our school life is ending in just a few months!” she chirped, her eyes gleaming with excitement. I nodded in agreement, a warm smile spreading across my face.

Jisoo and I had already decided that we’d be attending the same university in England, a decision that had us both brimming with anticipation. The prospect of this new chapter felt like a dream—one filled with opportunities and endless possibilities. We had even begun discussing plans to rent an apartment together, imagining the freedom and independence awaiting us.

For once, everything seemed to be falling into place, exactly as I had always hoped.

Our animated conversation was cut short by the sharp ring of the bell. With hurried goodbyes, we rushed off to our respective classes. I headed to English, where I shared the period with Taehyung and Yunjin.

Once we settled into our seats, the teacher strode in, greeted warmly by the class. As the lesson began, Taehyung and I discussed the project we’d been assigned. The teacher, noticing our group, paused briefly to guide us before moving on to assist others.

The assignment was to create a collaborative story—one that was imaginative and original. Yunjin, Taehyung, and I had decided on a fantasy tale about forbidden love. It was a story that would require us to design every character from scratch, and I had been entrusted with crafting the female lead.

I envisioned her as a strong, determined woman who, despite knowing the impossibility of her love, refused to yield to the world’s protests. Her defiance, her courage—it resonated deeply with me as I breathed life into her. A wistful sigh escaped my lips as my thoughts wandered, my gaze drifting to the window. Beyond it, the sprawling city stretched out like a tapestry, the distant hum of life grounding me.

“Yoon? Yoona!” A voice whined, accompanied by a sharp poke in my shoulder. Startled, I turned, only to be met with Taehyung’s wide, teasing grin.

“What is it, Taehyung?” I groaned, exasperation laced with fondness.

He wasted no time launching into a mock-serious lecture, scolding me like an overbearing mother to stay focused.

Taehyung was one of my closest friends—loud, mischievous, and perpetually childish. Yet, I didn’t mind. His energy was infectious, his presence a comforting constant in my life. And, more often than not, we shared most of our classes together.

We spent the remainder of the lesson discussing his character for the project, his enthusiasm as boundless as ever. Before long, the bell rang, signalling the end of the period. Gathering my things, I headed off to my next class, one I attended on my own, leaving behind the lively buzz of the group.

——

Before I knew it, break had arrived. I made my way to the library, where most of the group had already gathered, their voices blending into a lively hum. Choosing a seat at the edge of the table, I quietly settled in, pulling out my lunch as I observed the familiar scene unfolding around me.

Listening was usually what I preferred. I wasn’t much of a talker unless someone addressed me directly or until I found something worthwhile to add to the conversation. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy being part of it—I did. There was something comforting about simply being in their company, soaking in the camaraderie without the need for constant words.

Yunjin and I soon started chatting about the new park under construction downtown, our conversation flowing easily until Rose interjected. Rose and I worked together at a quaint little café outside of school, and her enthusiasm often spilled over into moments like this.

The table grew increasingly boisterous as everyone joined in, laughter and chatter reverberating through the library. The lively noise persisted until the bell pierced the air, signalling the end of the break. A collective groan rippled through the group as they reluctantly packed up their things, shuffling off towards their lockers to gather the inevitable pile of books.

I, however, had the luxury of a free period. As they dispersed, I remained behind in the now quieter library, grateful for the opportunity to delve into my studies undisturbed.

The faint murmur of muffled conversations lingered in the background as I turned my attention to the view beyond the window. Seated on the third and top floor, I had an expansive view of the school grounds below. My eyes wandered lazily, tracing the familiar paths students tread each day, before drifting further afield.

It was then that I noticed it—a lone figure standing at the edge of the grounds. They were clad entirely in black, their features obscured by the distance and their choice of attire. There was something about their stance, the way they surveyed the buildings, that caught my attention. It wasn’t idle curiosity; it felt deliberate, as though they were searching for something—or someone.

I watched, intrigued, as the figure lingered for a while longer before finally looking up. For a fleeting moment, I thought they might glance my way, but they didn’t. Instead, they turned abruptly and walked off, disappearing from view as quickly as they had appeared.

Absentmindedly, I twirled my black pen between my fingers, my thoughts trailing after them. Who were they? What had they been doing there?

I stared at the now-empty spot, the faintest twinge of curiosity and unease prickling at the back of my mind.

I wonder what that was about…

——

Before I knew it, the school day had drawn to a close, and I found myself walking to work alongside Rose.

We both worked at a charming little café nestled on a quieter street in the city. It wasn’t particularly busy, which suited me perfectly. There was a certain tranquillity in the soft murmur of conversations and the hum of the coffee machine—comforting, familiar.

I first met the owner, Mrs. Park, about a year after I moved to Daegu. She was a kind-hearted older woman whose warmth had been a beacon during a difficult time. Our connection was unexpected but serendipitous. She had offered me the job after an incident where I had stopped a group of men from mugging her. Her gratitude had been boundless, and for me, it was an unexpected blessing. I had no prior work experience—not as Yoona, at least—but Mrs. Park had welcomed me without hesitation.

As Rose and I stepped through the café doors, we were met with the familiar and heavenly aroma of cinnamon and freshly ground coffee. It was a scent that wrapped itself around you, making you feel instantly at ease.

We headed to the back to don our green aprons, their colour perfectly complementing the café’s cosy interior. Once ready, we fell seamlessly into our usual rhythm. I took charge of making the coffee while Rose managed the front, gracefully attending to the customers with her signature smile.

The atmosphere of the café was always warm, and the regulars added to its charm. I spent part of my shift chatting with them, their faces as familiar to me as my own. There was one elderly gentleman in particular who came in every week, and we had our usual little rant sessions about everything and nothing. He didn’t have anyone else to talk to, and I cherished the simplicity of those moments, offering a listening ear as he spoke.

The customers were always so kind, their presence a reminder of the small joys that made my days just a little brighter.

——

Mrs. Park kindly let me off early so I could focus on my studies. After expressing my gratitude, I made my way back to my apartment. It was, after all, one of the few things I’d spent most of my hard-earned money on—a sanctuary of my own making.

I ascended the stairs to my floor, the weight of the day lingering in my steps, and unlocked the door to be greeted by the familiar gloom of the small space I had called home for two years. It wasn’t much, but it was mine and mine alone—a haven that no one could invade.

Heading straight to the bathroom, I pulled off my shirt, ready to confront the part of me I kept hidden from the world. Stepping in front of the mirror, I hesitated, closing my eyes as a sharp gust of wind filled the small room. When I reopened them, there they were—stretching wide and magnificent, taking up nearly the entire space.

My wings.

Seeing them always struck a complex chord within me. They were both a reward and a curse, a paradox etched into my very being. They symbolised my escape from him, a vivid reminder of my freedom and the beauty of what I had gained. But they also carried the bitter echo of his laughter, a phantom mocking me from the past. My wings, in all their splendour, felt as though they taunted me, a physical manifestation of what I had endured.

And yet, they were my anchor, the very thing that kept me going. They were proof that I would never return to that prison, and they gave me the strength to persevere, no matter what.

I reached out, letting my fingers glide along the feathers. They had grown since my time at his mansion. Once a soft beige, the feathers were now rich with deep chocolate and hazel hues, thicker and more robust than before. Their growth had made me stronger, faster, more agile in the skies.

After a long moment of admiration, I blinked, and with that single motion, they vanished. The bathroom felt smaller, emptier.

I stepped into the shower, washing away the day’s exhaustion, and re dyed my fading hair, restoring the vibrant colour that had become part of my new identity. At last, I collapsed onto my bed, the weariness of the day pressing down on me.

But my mind refused to rest. I knew what I needed to do to clear the weight from my thoughts.

I moved to the living room, my gaze drawn to the large window that spanned the wall. Slowly, I approached it, unlocking the side latch and sliding the glass aside. The cool evening air rushed in, stealing the breath from the room and replacing it with a crisp, invigorating chill.

I leaned out, inhaling deeply as the wind dissolved the remnants of stress that clung to me. Standing on the windowsill, I took a deep breath, tilted forward, and let myself fall into the embrace of the open sky.

A smile broke across my face as I flung out my wings once again, the rush of adrenaline surging through me like fire. In that moment, I felt untouchable, as though I truly were at the top of the world.

I soared effortlessly, my wings slicing through the dense clouds as though they were nothing more than whispers. Weaving through the towering skyscrapers, I turned vertically, slipping with precision through the narrow gaps between the buildings. The tinted windows reflected fleeting glimpses of my form, and I couldn’t help but grin at the sight.

The city stretched beneath me, alive and pulsating, but my eyes were drawn upward, to the horizon. As I emerged from the shadows of the buildings, the setting sun painted the sky in shades of amber and gold, casting a serene glow over the bustling metropolis below.

For a moment, suspended in the endless expanse of air, I felt utterly free.

——

After an hour, the sky had darkened into a dusky veil, and I found myself perched atop the tallest building, surveying the city as its life slowly ebbed away with the fading daylight.

The wind wove through my hair, a gentle, fleeting touch against my skin, as I tilted my head back and let my gaze follow the path of a solitary eagle. It soared with effortless grace, climbing higher and higher into the clouds until it disappeared from sight, leaving nothing but the whisper of its presence behind.

This had become my ritual, a cherished moment of solitude that I held close to my heart. Each week, I returned here to savour the tranquillity, to feel the quiet strength of the world beneath me. And yet, a part of me longed to share this experience with someone—anyone but him.

But I knew the truth, as cold and unyielding as the wind around me: I was destined to keep this part of my life to myself.

And for now, I could accept that. For now, I didn’t mind the loneliness that came with it.

——

Resting my head against the now-warm embrace of my bed covers, I unfurled my wings, fluffing them out instinctively before curling into myself. The soft feathers cocooned me, trapping what little heat I could gather, offering a sense of security that nothing else could. It was the only way I could find sleep, the only ritual that seemed to work.

Slowly, the weight of the day began to pull me under, my eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment. My lashes veiled my vision until, at last, I was consumed by the familiar, inky darkness.

And then I heard it.

“Y/N.”

The voice was faint yet unmistakable, a whisper that felt as though it had been spoken directly into my mind.

I turned sharply, looking around, but there was nothing. No one. The shadows seemed to stretch endlessly, swallowing everything in their path.

“It’s Yoona,” I murmured, the words escaping in a breathless denial, though my voice barely seemed to carry in the vast emptiness.

“Y/N. Don’t hide.”

A chill ran down my spine, my heart pounding in response to the command that felt more like a threat.

What?

My voice faltered, the single word dissipating into the void. The darkness around me grew heavier, pressing down, suffocating, as though it were alive.

——

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