The next morning, the high school was back to its bustling, sun-drenched self. The "bruised purple sky" was gone, replaced by a clear, mocking blue.
Seo-yoon walked through the gates with a light step, her memory of the library a fuzzy, dream-like blur of old books and a strange headache. All she knew was that when she saw Leon standing by the lockers, her heart did a frantic, happy somersault. He looked perfect, his hair catching the morning light, his smile as warm as a summer afternoon.
"Leon!" she called out, adjusting her bag and smoothing her hair. "I finished that history chapter we were talking about. Want to go over the notes before first period?"
Leon turned, his eyes flickering with a momentary, dark triumph before settling into his usual "heroic" softness. "I'd love to, Seo-yoon. I was hoping you'd ask."
As they walked down the hall together, Seo-yoon found herself trying harder than usual to impress him. She laughed a little louder at his jokes and tucked her hair behind her ear, leaning in close as they shared a textbook. She felt a strange, magnetic pull toward him—an obsession she didn't realize was being mirrored back at her.
"You're so smart, Seo-yoon," Leon whispered, his hand brushing hers as they turned a page. "I feel like I've known you for lifetimes."
"Me too," she sighed, completely charmed. "It's the weirdest feeling."
From the opposite end of the hallway, a loud slam of a locker echoed through the corridor.
Ji-hoon was leaning against the metal, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He looked more exhausted than ever, his dark eyes burning with a cold, bitter jealousy that he couldn't quite hide. Every time Leon leaned closer to Seo-yoon, Ji-hoon's knuckles whitened.
"Pathetic," Ji-hoon muttered as they passed him.
Seo-yoon stopped, frowning at him. "Excuse me? Do you have a problem, Ji-hoon? You've been acting like a jerk all morning."
Ji-hoon didn't look at her; he looked directly at Leon. The air between the two boys felt like a live wire, humming with a tension Seo-yoon couldn't understand.
"My only 'problem' is watching a masterpiece get ruined by a hack," Ji-hoon snapped, his voice dripping with a protective rage. He turned to Seo-yoon, his gaze momentarily softening into something desperate. "Don't try so hard to impress him, Seo-yoon. You have no idea what you're auditioning for."
"Ignore him," Leon said smoothly, placing a protective hand on Seo-yoon's shoulder. The touch sent a shiver down her spine—partly thrill, partly a warning she had forgotten how to read. "He's just bitter because he's always on the outside looking in."
As Leon led her away, Ji-hoon stood alone in the hallway, his hand reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a small, shattered piece of silver glass—the last remnant of a bell that no longer rang.
The atmosphere at school shifted as the annual School Festival (대학축제 style but for high school) was announced. This is the biggest program of the year in Korean schools, a time when the rigorous academic schedule pauses for students to showcase their talents
For the festival, Seo-yoon's class decided to go all out by splitting their room into two contrasting sections: a "Joseon-era Ghost House" in the back and a "Modern Street Food Stall" at the front.
Seo-yoon spent the entire morning in a traditional hanbok, her hair pinned back with a delicate floral binyeo she'd chosen specifically because she thought Leon would like the classic look. She was in charge of the tteokbokki station, the steam from the spicy rice cakes making her cheeks flush a pretty pink.
"One order of 'Eternal Love' spicy rice cakes coming up!" she joked, serving a group of juniors.
Leon, dressed in his sharp MC suit for the evening program, stopped by the booth. The crowd of girls around him parted like the Red Sea. He leaned over the counter, the steam reflecting in his dark, unreadable eyes.
"You look beautiful in that hanbok, Seo-yoon," he whispered, loud enough for the girls nearby to gasp. "Almost like you stepped out of an old painting. Or a memory I can't quite place."
Seo-yoon beamed, her heart racing. "I made this batch extra spicy. Since you're the MC, you'll need the energy."
Just as Leon reached out to take the bowl—his fingers intentionally lingering against hers—a heavy clipboard slammed onto the table between them.
Ji-hoon stood there, his yellow "Festival Staff" vest clashing with his dark, moody aura. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. His eyes were fixed on the bubbling pot of tteokbokki, but his jaw was clenched so tight it looked like it might snap.
"The burner is too close to the curtain," Ji-hoon said, his voice flat and bitter. "And you're not wearing a hairnet. It's a hygiene violation."
"Ji-hoon, seriously?" Seo-yoon huffed, pulling her hand away from Leon's to adjust her apron. "Everyone else is fine with it. Don't be so dramatic."
"I'm not being dramatic," Ji-hoon snapped, finally looking at her. For a second, the coldness in his eyes flickered into that same agonizing jealousy from before. "I'm making sure things don't go up in flames. Some people are too busy playing 'perfect prince' to notice when things are getting dangerous."
Leon gave a small, mocking chuckle. "It's just a school festival, Ji-hoon. Relax. Unless you're just upset because you weren't invited to the 'Eternal Love' table?"
Ji-hoon's grip on his clipboard tightened until the plastic cracked. He leaned in, whispering so only the three of them could hear. "I don't need a table. I'm the one who has to clean up the mess when the 'prince' finally drops the act."
He turned on his heel and stormed off to "inspect" the Haunted House section in the back, leaving a trail of chilly air behind him.