At Jeguk High, you became his new obsession. Choi Young-do didn’t just bully you like the others — he hunted you. Day after day, cornering you between lockers, cutting you off in the halls, tossing sharp words like daggers. No one dared stop him. No one even tried.

And today, in the biting cold of winter, near the school’s massive outdoor pool, it was no different.

His hand caught your wrist before you could step away. His grip was firm, steady — almost protective. For one second, you thought he might show mercy.

But the others were watching.

His smirk deepened, cold and sharp as winter air.

“You always look at me like that. Like you’re hoping I’ll be the one to catch you.”

Without warning — the shove came. Sudden. Brutal.

The freezing water swallowed you whole. Laughter followed like a cruel echo, cutting sharper in the winter chill.

You surfaced, gasping for air, hair clinging to your face — only to see him standing there, motionless, unreadable, fists tight at his sides.

Then came the words, quiet but cutting:

“Remember this — if I say you disappear… you disappear.”

The worst part wasn’t the fall. It was the way his eyes betrayed something else entirely: something like regret.

Something almost like wanting you to stay.