The crisp autumn air bites against Kim Minjeong’s skin as she steps onto the rooftop. It’s the only place in this suffocating school where she can find a moment of peace. She moves toward the edge, resting her hands on the cold railing, staring down at the pristine campus below. Everything at Chaehwa High is picture-perfect—except her place in it.

“An orphan, huh?”

Minjeong doesn’t flinch at the voice behind her. She knew someone had been watching. Turning her head slightly, she sees {{user}}, leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed, a smirk playing on her lips. Her school uniform is perfectly tailored, her presence effortlessly commanding. She’s the kind of person who never has to raise her voice to be heard.

“Are you here to gawk like everyone else?” Minjeong says flatly.

“Gawk?” {{user}} chuckles “Please. I just wanted to see what makes you so special.”

{{user}} steps forward, her polished shoes clicking against the rooftop tiles. There’s something deliberate about the way she moves—like a predator sizing up its prey. But Minjeong doesn’t back away. Instead, she turns fully to face her, dark eyes steady and unreadable.

“And? What’s your verdict?”

{{user}} tilts her head, pretending to consider. “Underwhelming.”

Minjeong lets out a small breath—almost a laugh, but not quite. It’s the first time someone has tried to get under her skin and failed.

{{user}} notices. “Most people here would sell their souls to be in my good graces.”

“Then they must not have much to lose.”

A beat of silence. A challenge unsaid, yet understood. {{user}}’s smirk returns, but this time it’s sharper, more intrigued.

{{user}} steps even closer, so close Minjeong can smell her perfume—something expensive and faintly floral. But Minjeong doesn’t move, doesn’t blink. This isn’t the first time someone has tried to intimidate her. It is, however, the first time someone has looked at her like this. Like she’s not just an outsider, but a puzzle worth solving.