After the Eye of the Typhoon
The school trip—the eye of the typhoon—had finally ended. Now it was late autumn at the academy. On the rooftop, alone. Carlyle Schultz remained lost in deep thought.
"Look at me, Bianca."
"...Sorry, I got nothing to say."
The incident from just moments ago. It was already the second day, so not the first time.
After the school trip, Bianca Shama had changed. In an instant, like a different person. Her whole vibe shifted so drastically that even her desk mate Shasha barely got a word out of her anymore. Carlyle Schultz had seen it all.
Over there, Bianca... Even when Shasha tried her best to keep the conversation going, Bianca—lost in a daze—barely responded. Carlyle watched as the talk fizzled out every time.
"Bianca, something's off, right?"
"Yeah, something..."
"Something bad happen?"
Her face was downcast, lips pressed tight, eyes somehow vacant. An aura that made her hard to approach. He'd overheard the other classmates whispering that it was weird.
He was worried sick. Of course he was. But Bianca kept shoving him away, cold as ice.
"This isn't like you."
When he'd said that, her reaction...
"What do you mean, 'like me'...?"
Carlyle couldn't answer. What could he say? She looked so fragile, like she might shatter at any moment. Unknown emotions swirling in her eyes. He had a gut feeling she was dealing with some unspeakable burden. But he realized that clumsily prying would do more harm than good, so he hesitated—and missed his chance. In that brief pause, Bianca Shama had already brushed past him.
She'd rejected him like that several times now, but he still couldn't pinpoint the reason. So, why? Why suddenly like this? What was going on?
He'd thought things between them were going great lately.
I like you, Bianca.
Her reaction to his confession in the cabin, with that charged atmosphere. He'd figured she'd come around soon. Honestly, he'd been almost certain, so this situation made no sense.
What the hell was it? No clue on the reason—his head throbbed needlessly, his chest tight and stuffy.
What exactly was the reason? Bianca Shama was clearly pushing him away.
And suddenly? No warning signs at all? He couldn't wrap his head around it.
"Haa—"
So sighs were all that escaped Carlyle Schultz's lips. He'd already ruffled his poor hair a bunch of times with his own hands.
Was liking someone always this tough? No answers, no way to figure it out—just pure frustration.
And the weirdest part? Bianca Shama looked pained while pushing him away.
'Why are you...'
Making that face, those hurt eyes.
'...pushing me away?'
He'd always believed she liked him back. Hell, he was still pretty sure she did.
But if so, why?
In this relationship, Carlyle had always been the one chasing. Bianca Shama called the shots.
So he just waited. Let's wait it out. If nothing changed, he'd get proactive and dig for answers then.
Yeah, that was it.
He steeled his resolve and recharged his patience. But even after classes ended, after his part-time shift, nothing budged.
He headed to her house. Friday today, after all.
If it kept up like this, he'd show up all weekend too.
"Waiting for you, Bianca."
"Right outside your place."
Carlyle Schultz waited. Rain started right on cue—he figured it was a good thing.
Pouring down—
Bianca had a soft heart. Like last time, a reply might come any second.
Thinking that, he waited in stoic silence.
Waited and waited. Shoulders and hair soaking through.
Believing Bianca would turn to him eventually.
But unlike before, no window opened. No reply came that day.
In the dark room, Vita sat with her head bowed. Leaning against the windowsill.
Only after the shadow under the streetlamp—who'd stood there forever—finally vanished did she slump to the floor.
'...Sorry, Carlyle.'
She really meant it. Sorry for pushing you away. But she had no choice.
Truth was, she'd been watching him the whole time. Worried her shadow might flicker through the curtains, she'd killed the lights.
In that pitch black, she'd stared at him nonstop. Clutching her inexplicably aching chest, holding her breath.
Pouring down—
The rain seeped through the closed window. Even in this weather, Carlyle was out there.
Waiting for her.
Knowing that twisted Vita's heart. Maybe it had gone way past mere unease.
Her chest just hurt for no reason.
'But I...'
She had to push Carlyle Schultz away.
She'd already made up her mind after the school trip.
Dazed on the bus, she'd mulled it over endlessly. Shasha chattered beside her, but it barely registered. Her mind was gone.
'I, I...'
What now?
'I, how...'
Practically checked out.
[You're a guy... why Carlyle...? No, I mean, it's weird for a guy to like Carlyle, feels off...]
Those words from Emily Swan—her old crush—wouldn't leave her head.
No one to blame for the massive shock. If anything, they'd nailed the core issue.
"Sorry, Bianca. No, Vita."
"I messed up..."
Emily had apologized nonstop from the next day, but Vita wouldn't have it.
"Yeah, it's fine."
She said it, but honestly? Not even close.
Far from fine. Emily sent texts—Vita ignored them.
Just didn't want to see her right now.
Emily was right, after all.
[I don't think you like Carlyle.]
Looking back, total lie. Only Emily's slip-up made Vita realize it.
[You're a guy... why Carlyle...?]
Even after hearing everything, Emily had assumed "Bianca Shama" still liked Carlyle Schultz.
So Vita got it too. The shock hit hard.
Why it rocked her so much.
She'd spilled the truth to Emily so casually.
Realized it all.
[Don't run away.]
Just like Emily said—she liked Carlyle. Admitting it made everything weird.
So she'd run.
Told Emily the truth: "Bianca" was originally "Vita." Kept it from Carlyle.
No matter the circumstances, him turning from guy to girl was a flaw.
If she'd still crushed on Emily, she never would've confessed.
'But to Carlyle...'
Couldn't say it. Didn't want him knowing.
Once she realized that, Vita knew she no longer trembled around Emily Swan.
Realized that too.
'Ah...'
Finally. I like Carlyle.
That's why Emily's words hit like a truck.
Strange. Impossible.
She'd known it was weird, denied it nonstop—but here she was.
Confirmed by someone else's mouth.
Vita Shama was shattered. Still reeling from the shock.
"How did I end up like this..."
In the darkness, Vita kept muttering.
Ignoring the flood of notifications on her phone.
Yeah, probably from then.
[I like you, Bianca.]
That long, drawn-out confession. More sincere and steady than ever.
Hearing it, something inside her flipped.
'Being with him feels reliable, comfy, fun no matter what.'
She'd realized who he was.
If he liked her for reasons like that, then surely...
Vita Shama couldn't deny she liked Carlyle Schultz too.
Like clothes soaking in a drizzle—unnoticed until too late.
He'd turned "Vita Shama" into "Bianca Shama."
Bianca, Bianca. Her other self's name.
'But... it felt good.'
His low voice calling her name, that faint tremble.
She didn't hate it. Actually liked it a little.
His sincerity, his attitude toward her, his unexpectedly diligent side, his caring, delicate touches.
The occasional thoughtfulness. She liked it all.
'I... Carlyle...'
She'd fallen for him.
Absurd, but it happened.
So her heart hurt like this now.
"Sorry, sorry..."
Sorry to Carlyle. Her chest ached pointlessly. Like her heart itself hurt.
Thud—
Thud—
She punched her own chest. Felt like she'd choke otherwise.
"Why, of all people..."
Why did it turn out like this?
Just stuffy. Like a lump choking her heart.
Ironic, but the moment she admitted it, she realized:
This was weird. Absurd.
Beyond that—the clearest fact:
'It... means nothing.'
This hard-won feeling was meaningless.
She couldn't respond to Carlyle Schultz's heart.
She was originally a guy. She'd go back.
Pointless.
Even if she shut her eyes and gave up returning to a man—fat chance anyway.
She'd been deceiving him from the start.
So he liked her.
'Carlyle... doesn't know I...'
That Bianca Shama was originally a man.
Couldn't tell the truth. Goosebumps all over.
It terrified her. She started fearing it.
Vita Shama did.
'Not a real woman. I'm... Bianca's...'
Not a real woman. Neither fully man nor woman now.
But at her core, originally a man.
'If Carlyle finds out...'
What would he do? Yell? Curse? Worst case, despise her?
That scared her.
[Disgusting, you.]
If Carlyle spat that outright, despised her openly—just imagining it...
She couldn't take it. The thought alone tormented her heart, made breathing hard.
Gulp—
Gulp—
She chugged the cold water in her hand.
Imagining Carlyle turning cold, ruthless toward her—it suffocated her.
[Carlyle hates lies the most...]
Emily's words lingered.
So Vita was scared.
'Yeah, better...'
She'd decided to end it herself first.
'Cut Carlyle off now... on my terms.'
They could never work. No such future—shouldn't be.
Back to man.
She'd return to being a man. Everything would be fine then—self-hypnosis.
Vita decided to cut Carlyle Schultz loose.
His feelings weighed too heavy. Couldn't deceive him anymore.
She thought that.
Gulp—
Really forcing it down.
Alone in the dark, Vita swallowed a red pill. Nine left now.
'After the weekend, seven...'
Next weekend, she could go back.
Really could.
"Ugh, so bitter..."
The pill's bitterness twisted her face.
Her mom always said it was fine at times like this.
But why now?
[It's okay now.]
The words suddenly surfaced.
Others too.
[I like you, Bianca.]
His face then, his gentle gestures, his tone—all flooded back.
"......"
Even after swallowing, her throat clogged with emotion. She couldn't move.
No tears came. She was relieved, but she'd probably stayed like that for a while.
Carlyle Schultz didn't see Bianca all weekend. He messaged for two straight days, waited outside after work—no response.
Should he knock? Ask to be let in? He agonized, but it felt wrong.
Heading home, his fist clenched tight.
Emily Swan kept apologizing over the weekend.
"She left the group chat..."
"...Ah. Yeah."
Bianca Shama had even quit the group chat.
Emily sent long texts, even called—but nothing got through. Not once.
Shasha and Lou were the same. They'd reached out to Bianca Shama too, got silence.
Lou at least got a reply: She was fine, everything back to normal, don't worry.
"That's not the point..."
Lou could only sigh in regret.
In the midst of it, a new week dawned.
By Monday, a weird rumor swirled through the academy.
"Hey, you hear...? About Carlyle Schultz..."
As the rumor spread, students couldn't hide their shock.
"For real?"
"If that's true... he's a total scumbag."
Rumors gonna rumor.
With his history of dating around, the crowd's love for gossip spread it like wildfire.
The source? Nathan Jackal, the thug from the rival academy.
He was scared of Carlyle, had no real leverage.
But revenge burned hot. His nose—still crooked from that punch—hadn't healed right.
So yeah, he wanted payback.
'How to play this...?'
Spreading that the pristine Bianca Shama was a guy? He'd just look insane—no one'd buy it.
'Plus, her family's off-limits.'
Maximilian Shama was a big-shot businessman. Nathan wasn't that dumb.
He'd nearly poked that bear drunk before.
After agonizing, he settled on this petty revenge: a scandal.
Carlyle Schultz got his ex pregnant, then pressured her into an abortion. Explosive.
'Your turn to suffer, punk. Karma.'
Nathan spread it.
But by now, who started it didn't matter to anyone.
"Totally believable."
Everyone knew Carlyle Schultz's playboy past. To them, this scandal was prime entertainment.