Roses and Thorns (Jinlia)

Chapter 22: You Call It Love, I Call It War

The classroom had long since emptied, leaving behind only Jisu and Chaeryeong in a quiet kind of solitude, the kind that invited reflection. Outside, the late spring sun filtered through tall windows, casting golden streaks across rows of vacant desks. Just a week remained until the graduation ceremony for the fourth-year students of Shin International University, and though the room was still, a quiet buzz of anticipation thrummed through the air like static.

Jisu had recently discovered that Yunaㅡcurrently pursuing her Bachelor of Science in Business Managementㅡhad secured the highest honors in her graduating class. When she shared the news with Chaeryeong, the younger girl’s eyes had widened, her excitement practically spilling over.

“It’s official,” Jisu said, her voice tinged with pride. “She’s graduating early.”

At just twenty, Yuna stood on the cusp of becoming a university graduate. Her early departure from academia wasn’t due to family influence or special favors, but through sheer brilliance and relentless determination. Her name was being whispered among faculty with admiration, her record nearly untouchable. A prodigy, in every sense.

──⇌••⇋──

Yuna, ever the explorer of city streets and hidden gems, had recently stumbled upon a tucked-away restaurant nestled in a quiet alley just off campus. She’d been bursting to share it, insistent that the food alone was enough to change a person’s life.

Today, they’d made good on the promiseㅡthey would go. Now, all that remained was waiting at the university’s gate for Yuna to arrive.

Unfortunately, Ryujin wouldn’t be joining them. She had been summoned by her mother to assist with the upcoming graduation preparations, a responsibility she couldn't defer.

“Hi there!” Yuna’s familiar voice rang out as she appeared at the gate, her steps light, her smile as radiant as ever. Her energy was effortless, magnetic.

She threw her arms around Jisu in a warm hug before turning to Chaeryeong, pressing a kiss to her forehead with sisterly affection. “I bet you’re both starving,” she grinned. “Let’s head out before I eat the menu.”

──⇌••⇋──

Their laughter had only just begun to settle when the three found themselves seated at a quiet corner table, menus folded neatly to the side. As they waited for their food, Jisu slipped in her white wired earphones, scrolling through her playlist until she landed on a song she liked. With the volume cranked up to full, the outside world blurred and faded, replaced by the cocoon of music.

She didn’t hear Yuna call her name. Didn’t see the pout form on the girl’s lips. And she certainly didn’t expect the sharp tug as one earbud was yanked free.

“Yah, eonni!” Yuna huffed, crossing her arms, eyes narrowed but dancing with mischief. “I’ve been talking to you for like, a whole minute.”

Jisu blinked at her, adjusting to the sudden silence.

“I saw Auntie talking to you the other day,” Yuna continued, her curiosity piqued. “What was that all about?”

The memory surfaced with vivid clarityㅡJisu standing at the edge of the Shin mansion’s living room, watching her mother and Ryujin engaged in a deep, private conversation. It had been one of those rare moments Jisu wished she could freeze in time, preserve it like a photograph in her heart.

“Miss Choi,” President Shin had greeted, her voice as smooth and composed as always.

“Hello, President,” Jisu’s mother returned with a nod of polite respect.

Then came the question, one that cut with unexpected sharpness: “May I ask who confessed first?”

Jisu had laughed softly then, warmth spreading in her chest at the thought. “It was Ryujin,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips. “She really went all in.”

But the mood shifted when President Shin narrowed her gaze. “So, are you just returning my daughter’s feelings because you know you'd get in trouble if you didn’t?”

The words landed like a slap. Jisu’s expression shifted from warmth to disbelief.

“President?” she echoed, voice taut. “Are you suggesting my feelings for Ryujin aren’t real?”

“Absolutely not,” came the quick reply.

“Because that’s how it sounded.”

President Shin paused, then sighedㅡjust barely. “I was being careful,” she admitted, her voice lowering. “My daughter... she’s been through enough. I only want to be certain she isn’t stepping into something that could end with her hurt.”

Jisu's shoulders softened, the fire in her chest fading into something gentler. “President,” she said slowly, “it might be too early for big words, but I can see a future with her. I wouldn’t hurt Ryujin. Doing so would be like... destroying a part of myself.”

A silence passed before President Shin nodded, her eyes shifting toward her daughter across the room. Her expression remained unreadable.

“Just know this,” she murmured, voice touched by steel. “If anyone dares hurt my familyㅡespecially my daughterㅡI am capable of things beyond your wildest imagination.”

The air had gone cold in that moment, and Jisu, despite the quiet strength in her convictions, couldn’t help but shiver. She remembered all too clearly the power President Shin wielded—and how ruthlessly she’d exercised it after her husband’s death.

Back at the restaurant, the memory of that chilling promise still lingered in Jisu’s mind.

“Try to see it from my aunt’s perspective,” Yuna said gently, nudging Jisu from her thoughts. “They’ve both lost so much. It makes sense she’d be wary.”

Jisu nodded, her gaze thoughtful. “I get it. I really do.”

Before the conversation could deepen, a waiter appeared, placing a large tray of steaming dishes on the table, their aromas weaving into the quiet like a signal for peace.

As they reached for their chopsticks, Yuna looked at Jisu once more, her voice softer now. “Just... stay safe, okay?”

Jisu chuckled, flashing her a cheeky grin. “Me? I’m practically invincible.”

Yuna didn’t laugh. Instead, she smiled faintly, her eyes filled with affectionㅡand something quieter, harder to name. Something like worry.