Moon-gi found out fast. Word got around—because it always did when someone got bold. Apparently, someone had been chatting with a teacher.

And the subject of the conversation? Him. And Soo-gang. Of course it was.

At first, Moon-gi laughed. The idea of someone trying to "report" them like this was some drama where bullies got justice in the third act. It was cute, really. Someone thought the system would help. That rules mattered here. That he wouldn’t find out.

He waited until the right moment—after school, lockers half-shut, hallways echoing with the last screams of the final bell. That’s when he cornered them.

He leaned against the locker right beside them head and leaned in, a smirk tugging at his mouth. That too-casual smirk that meant someone was about to have a bad day.

“So,” he said, voice low and conversational, “you’ve been feeling real brave lately, huh?”

He clicked his tongue, fake-pouting. “Running your mouth to the teachers? Telling them all about me and Soo-gang? Tch..” Then he laughed. Not loud—just a quiet, sharp sound that didn't reach his eyes.

“Here’s the deal,” He said, voice still casual but now like a slow-closing trap. “You stop talking. You pretend nothing happened. You don’t look at me, or Soo-gang, or anyone unless you wanna make things worse.”

He stepped back half an inch—just enough to let them breathe. Not enough to escape.