Namra’s vision turned blurry, and for a moment, she wondered if it was just the lack of sleep catching up to her. She blinked, trying to clear it, but the sensation remained—like the past was creeping back in, slipping through the cracks she thought she had sealed.

She had told herself she had let go. That everything from before was just that—before. A part of a life she had moved on from, one that no longer held power over her. But sitting here, surrounded by the quiet hum of the classroom, she realized how untrue that was.

The memories didn’t just disappear because she wanted them to. They lingered, waiting for quiet moments like this to remind her of what she had once been, of what she had once felt. The pressure, the isolation, the choices she had made to protect herself—all of it still clung to her, just beneath the surface.

She exhaled, pressing her fingers lightly against her temples. Maybe it would always be this way. Maybe the past wasn’t something she could outrun.

Namra’s head spun the moment her mother crossed her mind.

It had been years, but grief didn’t work like time did. It didn’t fade neatly, didn’t disappear just because she had learned how to live with it. It stayed, quiet but heavy, lurking beneath the surface. And when she least expected it, like now, it came rushing back.

She had thought she had let go. Thought that moving forward meant leaving the weight of the past behind. But no matter how far she went, the memories still found her.

Her mother’s voice echoed in her mind—warm at times, distant at others. You’ll do well, won’t you? You always do.

It had never been a question, never a demand. Just a quiet expectation, one Namra had carried long after her mother was gone. She had spent so much of her life trying to be everything her mother wanted—perfect, composed, untouchable. And now, even with all the changes, even after telling herself she had learned to live differently, there were moments like this when it all came crashing back.

Namra exhaled slowly, pressing her fingers against her temples, trying to steady herself.

Moving on didn’t mean forgetting. It didn’t mean the past stopped pulling at her. And right now, she wasn’t sure if it ever would.

---

Sooheon’s fingers stilled against his Sooheon’s fingers tightened around his pen as Namra stood.

Something was wrong.

Her skin was pale—paler than usual. The kind of pale that wasn’t just from exhaustion but from something deeper, something unsettled. Her grip on the desk lingered for half a second too long, her posture rigid in a way that made his chest tighten.

“Namra?” The teacher’s voice held a hint of concern now. “Is something wrong?”

She barely hesitated. “I need to step out for a moment.”

Her voice was steady, but he wasn’t fooled.

His eyes traced the slight tremor in her fingers as she pulled away, the tension in her shoulders as she turned toward the door without looking at anyone. She never rushed, never acted impulsively—but this? This was different.

Sooheon felt himself leaning forward slightly, his foot shifting as if to stand.

He wasn’t the only one who noticed. Chanmi was watching too, her gaze following Namra with an unreadable expression. But unlike her, Sooheon wasn’t just observing—he was ready to move.

Namra didn’t look back. She walked out, the door clicking softly behind her, leaving only the faint trace of her presence behind.

The air in the classroom felt heavier.

Sooheon exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair, his knee bouncing slightly beneath the desk.

He didn’t know where she had gone.

He wanted to follow.

He didn’t know what was wrong. But he knew one thing for certain—he didn’t like seeing her like that.

Neither did she.

Namra’s heart was still pounding as she rushed up the stairs, her breath quick and shallow. The weight of the emotions pressing on her chest only seemed to grow heavier with each step. She needed air—space to think, to clear her head. She pushed through the door to the rooftop, expecting a quiet, empty space.

Namra hadn’t expected company on the rooftop. She just needed air, space—anything to stop the thoughts from pressing in.

But as soon as she stepped forward, she saw them.

Tae So Yeon was backed against the railing, her head down, arms wrapped around herself. Jihyun stood in front of her, lazily twirling a strand of hair, her minions on either side, smirking. The air smelled of smoke and cheap perfume.

Namra knew exactly what was happening.

Namra had barely stepped onto the rooftop when Jihyun’s gaze snapped to her, a slow smirk spreading across her face.

"Well, well," Jihyun drawled, tilting her head. "Look who finally decided to stop playing the perfect little new student." She flicked invisible dust off her sleeve. "What brings you here, princess? Got lost on your way to the library?"

Namra didn’t answer. Her eyes settled on So Yeon, her rigid posture, the way she clutched her sleeves.

Jihyun clicked her tongue, following Namra’s gaze. "Oh, don’t tell me," she laughed, "you came to play hero?" She glanced at her minions, who chuckled on cue. "That’s cute. Really. But we were just having a little chat, weren’t we, So Yeon?"

So Yeon didn’t lift her head.

Jihyun sighed dramatically. "You know, Namra, I thought you were smarter than this. But I guess you’re just like every other girl here—thinking you can walk in and change the rules."

Namra didn’t answer. She wasn’t interested in Jihyun’s games.

Jihyun smirked at her silence. "You know, everyone’s been talking about you. The quiet, smart girl suddenly showing up with Ji Sooheon? Makes people curious."

Namra remained still. Her gaze flicked to So Yeon, who refused to meet her eyes.

Jihyun sighed dramatically. "But I get it. I mean, he’s good-looking, right? Strong, a little dangerous. Who wouldn’t want to be around him?" She tilted her head. "Bet you think you’re special, huh?"

Namra finally met her eyes. "Move."

Jihyun blinked, then let out a sharp laugh. "Excuse me?"

Namra didn’t repeat herself. She simply took a step forward, her presence colder than the night air.

Jihyun’s smirk wavered, just slightly. "You really think you can just walk in here and tell me what to do?" She scoffed. "You don’t know how things work."

Namra tilted her head, unbothered. "I know enough."

Jihyun narrowed her eyes. "Oh? And what do you think you know?"

Namra’s gaze flicked to So Yeon again. Then back to Jihyun. "That you talk too much."

The rooftop went silent. Even Jihyun’s minions shifted uncomfortably.

Jihyun scoffed, but Namra could see the irritation creeping in. "You think you’re scary?" She took a step closer, but Namra didn’t move.

"You think Sooheon’s going to step in and save you?" Jihyun sneered. "News flash, princess—guys like him don’t stick around. You’re just a passing interest."

Namra barely blinked. "And yet, you talk about him more than I do."

Jihyun froze.

Namra didn’t wait for her to recover. She stepped past her, placing a light hand on So Yeon’s wrist. "Let’s go."

So Yeon hesitated, eyes darting between them before quickly nodding.

Jihyun was still standing there, stunned, as they left.