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THE BELL'S SHARP CRY ECHOED THROUGH THE CORRIDORS, cutting through the clamor of students like a siren. y/n sighed, pulling the edges of the oversized, dusty hoodie tighter around her shoulders. It clung to her skin, stifling and worn, but it was better than the cold coffee-stained uniform she had stashed in her bag. Lunch had been the only reprieve of her day so far. The cafeteria's bustle was a comfort, an almost protective hum of noise that allowed her to slip into anonymity. The warm, hearty meals served were enough to make her feel grounded, even if only for a while. Sharing a meal with the quiet girl she'd grown used to sitting with—a girl who rarely spoke but always traded white rice for black, and pickled radish for seaweed—was the closest thing the y/h/c-haired girl had to companionship in this strange, new chapter of her life.
A full stomach gave her a rare moment of contentment, but that feeling was fleeting. She still had to face chemistry. The mere thought made her gut twist, dread prickling up her spine. It was bad enough last year, with Yoo-mi's eyes always glinting with malice from across the room. y/n prayed silently as she walked down the hallway, hoping the roster might have changed, that maybe she'd be spared this year. But deep down, she knew better. Some things didn't change that easily.
As she trudged into the classroom, the whispers and suppressed giggles that rippled through a corner told her everything she needed to know before she even glanced up. Three minutes late. Her pulse quickened as Mr. Kang, her perpetually stern chemistry teacher, shot her a hard look over the rim of his glasses.
"You're late, Miss l/n," he said, voice crisp and unforgiving.
"Sorry, Mr. Kang," she mumbled, eyes downcast as she moved past him, feeling the burn of judgmental stares following her every step. She found her assigned seat—a table at the back next to the window, the late afternoon sun casting lines of light across the worn wood. Beside her, a girl she didn't recognize, with soft eyes and a warm smile, nodded in greeting as y/n slid into the seat.
Y/n's momentary relief was shattered by the snickering that erupted a few tables over. Yoo-mi, her hair perfectly sleek, sat perched like a queen beside Kwon. He looked as unimpressed and distant as ever, leaning back with an expression that screamed boredom. But Yoo-mi, oh, she was having the time of her life. Her eyes darted over to y/n's hoodie, and a slow, mocking smile spread across her lips.
"Nice outfit," she smirked, faux-concern dripping from her tone. "Did you raid the school's donation bin, or did the thrift store reject it first?"
A chorus of giggles broke out from her entourage, each sound a needle prick under y/n's skin. She clenched her jaw, rolling her eyes as she took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus on the chipping paint on the windowsill instead of the smug look on Yoo-mi's face. Silence. Keep silent.
