Suspicion

Baek Seoyeon's emotions were clearly in turmoil. It was a sight rarely seen even by her closest friends. Upon confirming it, a twisted smile carved itself onto Yeon Minha's lips. She had been half-certain from the start, but there was no need for interrogation. The fact that she wasn't even trying to hide it felt almost absurd. Instead of denying the facts, Baek Seoyeon asking about the candy's origin was practically a confession in itself.

Yet what filled Yeon Minha's chest right now wasn't satisfaction. It was something sticky—a mixture of anxiety and rage. The more Baek Seoyeon's inner world churned like waves, the deeper the shadows of the past grew. The fact that what lay beyond was an unknown realm Yeon Minha could never access only fueled her anger further.

When Yeon Minha spoke in a voice thick with suppressed fury, Baek Seoyeon instantly shifted to an icy demeanor as if nothing had happened and shot back without yielding.

There was no need to explain how she had secretly taken the box from his locker only to be attacked by some cat, leaving this as the sole survivor. Cleaning up trash that someone had secretly thrown into the locker of her 'closest junior' was hardly worth mentioning.

-Crunch…

At Yeon Minha's deliberate emphasis on certain words, those golden eyes surged like waves once more. But Baek Seoyeon soon wore an expression of genuine contempt and said,

'Other people's?'

Yeon Minha felt a surge of irritation at the brazen accusation. Before she could stop herself, she pressed further.

…

At the piercing question, Baek Seoyeon clamped her mouth shut. Her eyes remained fixed on Yeon Minha in a glare.

-Crackle!

On one side of the corridor, flames flickered. On the other, moisture crystallized and fell to the floor with soft plops. The overwhelmed light fixture shattered with a loud crash, but neither of them moved an inch. Aside from their rising irritation, this conversation seemed to offer nothing else of value. Just looking at that expression told her everything. Baek Seoyeon had no intention of properly answering any question she asked. Of course, the same likely applied in reverse.

If that was the case, Yeon Minha had no reason to waste any more words on her. It would only sour her already terrible mood.

She intended to deliver this warning—part venting, part threat—and simply leave.

But the sudden voice stopped Yeon Minha mid-sentence. A chill so cold it raised goosebumps flowed from the girl before her.

Yeon Minha was momentarily flustered but didn't show it, calmly attempting to counter.

The golden eyes, now laced with an eerie intensity, murmured as they stared at Yeon Minha.

At some point, Baek Seoyeon had begun naturally calling him by that name. It was a territory Yeon Minha still felt too embarrassed to venture into, yet she crossed it so naturally and comfortably.

Like a dam that had burst, Baek Seoyeon poured out her resentment.

The confident tone claiming she knew him better than anyone left Yeon Minha momentarily speechless. While rage surged within her, a sense of injustice also crept up slowly. This fight was far too unfair for Yeon Minha. She could proudly say her heart yielded to no one, but they had only been aware of each other's existence for less than half a year. They were still getting to know one another and had even exchanged similar questions multiple times. The only thing lacking was time. Unfortunately, Baek Seoyeon held an overwhelming advantage in that regard.

When Baek Seoyeon saw Yeon Minha at a loss for words, she let out a snort and shook her head as if she'd expected it. By now, her eyes were glistening with moisture.

With those words, the black-haired girl left behind only a murmur mixed with lament and despair before turning and exiting the corridor.

Left alone, Yeon Minha's body trembled as if struck by a chill. She mulled over the meaning of Baek Seoyeon's final words for a long time, but she could never grasp their hidden intent.

The day after my duel with Jin Yeseo.

After finishing all my afternoon schedule, I knocked on the door of the main building's student council room.

When I opened the door, the first thing that caught my eye was a mountain of documents stacked higher than a person. Next was a nameplate with the words Student Council President engraved in large letters. And finally… a man with sunken eyes sitting in a chair flipping through papers, and a female student assisting him beside him.

A golden wing-shaped badge glittered on the lapel of the man's jacket. Buried in work, he spoke without even lifting his head.

The man, who had been responding in an utterly annoyed tone, instantly changed his attitude. He practically tossed the documents aside, and the student council president who now stood before me smiled brightly as he extended his hand.

When I took his hand, he shook it vigorously with exaggerated gestures. Average height, thin gold-rimmed glasses, an impression that seemed ordinary yet somewhat timid at first glance. His speech was dripping with obvious artificiality, yet I didn't sense any hostility or aversion from it. From what I'd heard in passing, he was apparently from the outskirts like me—not from a prestigious family or the capital region. In that case, perhaps that pretense was his own way of surviving in this harsh environment.

Still, it was true that such an attitude felt quite burdensome to someone like me. I worried he might keep offering, but fortunately that didn't happen. The man who was the president let out a hearty laugh and naturally changed the subject.

He waved his hand to call over the female student who had been assisting him. She had a neat bob cut and, unlike the president, wore rimless glasses that gave her a strict appearance. A first-year badge was pinned to her lapel… but I had almost no memory of her. Perhaps because she was so focused on student council work.

I followed the female student referred to as the secretary out into the corridor, even receiving his overly considerate send-off.

…

Contrary to the president's words that she would explain, she didn't utter a single word the entire way. Still, since I didn't have any particular questions, I quietly followed behind her. After descending several flights of stairs with her, we soon reached the basement of the main building—a place I had never set foot in since entering the Cradle, just like the student council room.

When she placed her hand on the door and infused particles according to the pattern, the tightly sealed door opened inward with a heavy sound. Following the dimly lit corridor, we soon arrived at a section where various documents were scattered in complete disarray. Traces of mold could be seen all over the papers, and the musty smell of rat droppings stung my nose.

The female student who glanced back at me spoke in a flat voice.

When I nodded, the female student simply handed over the key and lock before leaving the basement entirely. She said the password pattern for the basement door couldn't be shared with outsiders.

Left alone, I looked around relying on the dim stellarite lights. Then I picked up a document that had fallen to the floor and began sorting.

It wasn't particularly difficult, but it was a fairly tedious, labor-intensive repetitive task. This was the disciplinary punishment handed down to me after the duel. I later learned that during my previous ranking match with Jin Yeseo, her family—the White Light Jin—had already lodged a formal complaint once. On top of that, even though it had been intentional, I had once again used violence against her that far exceeded the boundaries of school rules. So convening the disciplinary committee was, in a way, an inevitable procedure. I had expected quite a heavy punishment as well.

But contrary to my resolve, the punishment ended with a slight deduction of points and being assigned to handle this kind of menial labor. I suspected the Cradle's emphasis on martial prowess and the influence of the Black Lotus—which had now become my background—played a major role.

…

I didn't feel any particular humiliation, but I could clearly tell that sorting through papers while smelling rat droppings was quite an ordeal. On top of the Cradle's already tight schedule, I now had to set aside separate time for this punishment.

Still, I felt like I had achieved my original goal to some extent. After beating her that thoroughly, she probably wouldn't bother me again. Now I just needed to handle the few things that had been bothering me while doing my own work.

Before long, two hours had passed, and I left the underground archive again, leaving behind a fairly organized pile of documents. Since it was impossible to finish everything in one day anyway, I decided not to push myself. Before locking the door with the key, I slightly turned my head to the side. Further inside was another tightly locked iron door with a nameplate that read Records Archive.

Seeing the nameplate for the Records Archive brought the three letters of the name Seol Yujeong back to mind once more.

"Here is the key."

The student council president was still handling miscellaneous tasks even after the sun had set. I had planned to simply hand over the key and leave quickly, but he stopped me, smacking his lips as if reluctant about something.

His sunken eyes and timid expression seemed to reflect his true feelings rather than pretense.

After confirming I had no lingering attachment, he nodded in resignation. Leaving the president's request behind, I headed back toward the Zelkova dormitory. The darkness of the night path actually made it easier to avoid others' eyes. My profile had risen quite a bit lately, so I'd been feeling especially sensitive.

And outside the door, as if she somehow knew, Yeon Minha was pacing back and forth. Sensing my presence, she greeted me first.

Yeon Minha shook her head. For some reason, her tone had seemed downcast since yesterday.

"Wait…"

-Slam!

Before I could even finish speaking, Yeon Minha hurriedly retreated into her bedroom and slammed the door shut. I was left standing there alone, staring blankly.