Jiwon turned, her eyes calm but unreadable.
"You voted for me… am I right, Sora?"
Sora froze.
Her smile faded like a dying light.
"…What are you saying?" she asked, trying to laugh it off.
Jiwon took a slow step forward. "Do you think I'm mad?"
Sora let out a nervous chuckle. "Seriously? Why would I vote for you?"
Jiwon tilted her head. "You didn't vote for Harin either."
"I didn't vote for Harin because—"
"—Because you wanted her to become the house pet," Jiwon finished, cutting her off sharply.
Sora's face stiffened. "No! That's not—"
"Then tell me," Jiwon said quietly. "Why would you vote for me?"
She paused.
"Did someone tell you to do it?"
Sora stood in silence. Her mouth opened slightly. No words came out.
Just silence.
"As I thought."
Jiwon's voice dropped. "You betrayed your friend… I remember the words. Like they got pasted into my mind forever. And now, you gave me an example of exactly what betrayal looks like."
She didn't wait for a reply.
Didn't look back.
She just walked away — leaving Sora speechless and alone.
---
The Next Day...
The moment Jiwon walked into the classroom, papers, notebooks, and cleaning tools were shoved toward her.
"You're the house pet now. Clean the board."
"Organize the notes."
"Wash the windows. All of them."
"Make sure the chairs are aligned!"
One task after another.
So many that even an entire team couldn't finish them by noon.
But Jiwon? She was expected to do them all alone.
She stood silently in the middle of the chaos, surrounded by tasks and whispers.
Then—two figures approached her.
Yerim and Jinwoo.
"Do you want help?" Yerim asked softly.
"We'll help you if you need," Jinwoo added, his voice calm but serious.
Jiwon looked up at them slowly. Her eyes didn't show gratitude or sadness — just that cold, commanding calm that made people hold their breath.
Then, she turned to face the class.
"If you want me to do your work…" she said, loud enough for everyone to hear,
"…then beat me in a game."
The room went still.
Everyone froze.
Their minds snapped back to what Jiwon had done to Harin just days ago — how she destroyed her with just one game. The memory alone made their hands tremble.
One bold girl shouted, "Hey! You're a house pet now! Act like one!"
Jiwon turned her head toward her. Her tone was soft — too soft.
"Oh? Did you live so long… that now you wish for death?"
Silence.
The entire classroom fell into stunned, fearful silence.
No one dared speak.
Jinwoo crossed his arms, saying nothing — but the corner of his lips twitched like he was trying not to smile.
Yerim smirked like she knew Jiwon would say something like that.
Miyeon didn't even blink. She walked away.
Jeok Soo, quiet and calculating, didn't even bother raising his hand.
And Sora?
Sora quietly turned back to her seat, not saying a word.
All five of them — Jinwoo, Yerim, Miyeon, Jeok Soo, and Sora — refused to play.
Because none of them saw Jiwon as a house pet.
They knew better.
Across the room, Harin gave a loud laugh, tossing her hair.
"Isn't she dramatic?" she said.
But behind her laugh was something tight, uneasy — a flicker of fear in her eyes.
Because Harin knew, too.
She had already faced Jiwon once.
And once was more than enough.
---
One by one, they came.
Each student stepped forward with shaky hands, challenging Jiwon with trembling voices.
And one by one — they lost.
They cried.
They shouted.
They panicked, yelled that the game was unfair — that she was unfair.
But none of it mattered.
Jiwon didn't flinch.
She didn't raise her voice.
She just played.
And every time—she smiled.
That quiet, terrifying smile.
The classroom turned into chaos.
Not from her — but from the fear she planted in each of them.
No one could believe it.
They thought being a house pet would make her weak.
But instead, she made them look like pets.
Then—
It was Harin's turn.
Her legs moved forward on their own. Her face held a laugh, her lips curved in amusement.
"Heh," she said, "I guess it's my turn now."
But her fingers were ice cold.
Her heart was racing too fast.
Because deep down, Harin wasn't laughing.
She was scared.
Scared of losing again.