There was something about waking up after a sleepless night that made the world feel artificial.
Too bright. Too crisp.
Hae-won sat in class the next morning like a mannequin, blinking just enough to appear functional. The sketch still sat folded in her pocket, its charcoal lines burnt into her mind. Someone had copied her style exactly. Whoever it was had either seen her portfolio… or taken her tablet to study it.
But why return the sketch and not the tablet?
"Hey."
She glanced sideways.
Seok-min had slid into the seat next to her. He didn't usually speak during morning lectures—most days, he barely showed up. But today he looked perfectly alert, lazily sipping an iced Americano.
"Did you finish the drafting assignment?" he asked, eyes forward.
She hesitated. "Yes."
He tapped the edge of his desk. "You always finish things early."
"That's not a crime."
"It is in Baekhyun," he said dryly. Then, "You look tired."
Hae-won stared at him. "That's not a compliment."
"I wasn't trying to flatter you."
Their professor strode in and began the lesson, but Seok-min didn't move. He leaned closer, voice low.
"Just don't get too comfortable," he said. "This place has a way of rewarding people who play quiet. Not the ones who shine."
Hae-won narrowed her eyes. "Is that a threat?"
He smiled faintly. "It's a compliment."
And then he turned away.
---
Later that day, she found her tablet.
Neatly placed on her desk like it had never gone missing.
Her files were untouched. But the screen had a faint smudge at the corner—a fingerprint that wasn't hers.
She stared at it for a long moment, then slowly placed the tablet back down.
Someone was watching her.
Still.
Not the school this time. Not surveillance.
Someone else.
Someone inside.
---
The evening air was thick with scent—fresh-cut grass and faint jasmine from the hedges near the garden path. Hae-won wandered alone, needing to breathe, needing to step out of the hallways where shadows stretched too long.
She turned a corner and stopped short.
Jin-woon stood by the railing overlooking the garden pond, hands in his pockets, blazer discarded on the stone bench beside him.
For a second, they just looked at each other.
Then he nodded once.
"Hey."
Hae-won walked over, her pace slow, cautious. "Didn't think you were the brooding-by-pond type."
"Only when the weather's dramatic."
She smiled, then leaned against the railing beside him.
A beat of silence.
Then he spoke again.
"You did well yesterday. The award. You deserved it."
She tilted her head. "You clapped like it mattered."
"It did."
Their eyes met.
Not fire. Not fury. Just a quiet click. Like puzzle pieces long-separated, finally acknowledging each other.
"You've changed," Jin-woon said.
"You and Ji-ae keep saying that," she muttered. "I was never soft."
"No," he agreed. "You were just... polite."
He hesitated, then asked: "Someone's messing with you, aren't they?"
Hae-won's pulse jumped.
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to."
She turned fully to him. "Do you know something?"
Jin-woon's jaw tightened. "I know how this school works. I know people make moves before they're even noticed. You're getting noticed."
"And you think someone's trying to scare me off?"
He looked at her then, like he was about to say something more. But his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and sighed.
"I have to go."
Of course.
She watched him grab his blazer and step away. But just before he disappeared down the path, he looked back.
"Don't lose your temper," he said. "They're not worth it."
Then he was gone.
---
That night, she told no one about the sketch.
Not even Ji-ae.
Instead, she placed it in a file folder, tucked it behind her books, and stared at the blank wall above her bed until her eyes burned.
Something was beginning.
She could feel it in her teeth.
And she would not be the one to flinch first.
---