42 ─── ᵉˣᵉᶜᵘᵗⁱᵒⁿ

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ʰⁱᵉʳᵃʳᶜʰʸ
ʰⁱᵉʳᵃʳᶜʰʸ
ʰⁱᵉʳᵃʳᶜʰʸ






















The following afternoon, Mi-hee and Kang-ha stood in the dimly lit community room of a nearby library. It was a modest space, far removed from the grandeur of Jooshin Academy’s halls. The air was heavy with anticipation and unease as the scholarship students trickled in, each of them glancing nervously at the unfamiliar surroundings and the unexpected duo waiting for them.

Kang-ha leaned against a table, arms crossed, his expression calm but focused. Mi-hee stood beside him, her posture poised yet approachable. She had swapped her usual polished, high-society attire for something simpler—dark jeans and a plain sweater. It was a subtle but intentional gesture to make herself seem less intimidating.

As the last of the students filed in, Kang-ha stepped forward, clearing his throat. “Alright, let’s get started. I know some of you are wondering why you’re here, or maybe why we’re here,” he said, nodding toward Mi-hee.

The group remained silent, their eyes darting between Kang-ha and Mi-hee. There was skepticism, fear, and a flicker of curiosity in their gazes.

Kang-ha continued, his voice steady. “You all know me. I’ve been where you are—fighting to keep up, dealing with the crap that comes with being a scholarship kid at Jooshin. You know how it feels to be looked down on, to be treated like you don’t belong. And I know some of you have dealt with worse.”

A murmur rippled through the group, a few heads nodding in quiet agreement.

Mi-hee stepped forward then, her voice calm but firm. “What Kang-ha is saying is true. And we’re here because we believe it’s time to change that. But we can’t do it alone.”

One of the students, a girl with glasses and a guarded expression, spoke up. “Why should we trust you? You’re Yun Mi-hee. You’re one of them.”

The room fell silent, all eyes on Mi-hee. She met the girl’s gaze, her expression unflinching. “You’re right. I am one of them. I’ve benefitted from the same system that’s hurt you. But I’ve also seen how broken it is. And I’m not here to pretend that I can fix it all. I’m here to stand with you, to fight alongside you, because I believe we deserve better.”

Another student, a boy with a wiry frame, crossed his arms. “What’s the catch? People like you don’t just help people like us for no reason.”

Kang-ha stepped in, his voice sharp. “The ‘catch,’ as you call it, is that Mi-hee’s putting herself on the line for this. She’s risking everything—her reputation, her family’s name, her future—to make sure we have a chance to be heard. So, yeah, maybe she’s not perfect, but she’s here. And that’s more than I can say for anyone else in her world.”

The boy hesitated, his skepticism wavering.

Mi-hee took a deep breath. “Look, I’m not asking you to trust me blindly. I’m asking you to listen. We have a plan—a way to force the school to take accountability. But it only works if we work together.”

She glanced at Kang-ha, who nodded and handed out copies of a document. “This,” Mi-hee continued, “is a formal complaint. It outlines the harassment, discrimination, and abuse of power that many of you have faced at Jooshin. If we all file these complaints together, the school will have no choice but to act. They’ll try to sweep it under the rug, but that’s just the first step. Once the complaints are filed, we’ll bring the story to the press.”

The room erupted in whispers and murmurs, the students exchanging uneasy glances.

“That’s risky,” the girl with glasses said. “They’ll know it was us. What if they retaliate?”

Mi-hee’s gaze hardened. “They will retaliate. But that’s why we’re doing this together. They can’t target all of us. And if they try, we’ll make sure the world knows about it. They’ll have more to lose than we do.”

The room fell silent again, the weight of her words sinking in.

A boy in the back raised his hand hesitantly. “And what about you? What happens to you if this all goes wrong?”

Mi-hee’s lips curved into a faint, bittersweet smile. “If it goes wrong, I’ll lose everything. But I’m willing to take that risk because this isn’t just about me. It’s about all of us. And it’s about time we stopped letting them win.”

For a moment, no one spoke. Then, the girl with glasses stood, her expression resolute. “Alright. I’m in.”

One by one, the others followed, their initial skepticism giving way to determination. By the time the meeting ended, they had a plan and a united front.

As the group dispersed, Kang-ha turned to Mi-hee, a faint smile on his lips. “That went better than I expected.”

Mi-hee exhaled, the weight of the moment settling on her shoulders. “It’s just the beginning. The hard part is still ahead.”

Kang-ha nodded, his expression serious. “We’ll get through it. Together.”

Mi-hee met his gaze, a flicker of gratitude in her eyes. “Yeah.”


















ʰⁱᵉʳᵃʳᶜʰʸ
ʰⁱᵉʳᵃʳᶜʰʸ
ʰⁱᵉʳᵃʳᶜʰʸ

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