The sunlight felt different that morning—too clean, too calm for how sharp everything had become. I took the long way to school, walking slow even though I'd be on time. I needed the air. Or maybe just the illusion of space. The city was already moving around me: cafés opening, students rushing past, a woman in heels talking into two phones at once. I watched them all like I didn't belong to the same planet. Maybe I didn't.
When I reached the front gate, I paused. Haeun was there. Not with her usual entourage. Alone. On purpose. Waiting. I kept my head high and walked straight past her. She didn't move, didn't speak. Just watched. Like she knew something I didn't. I didn't look back. That was the rule: don't flinch, don't check, don't give them anything they can frame as weakness. But the burn between my shoulder blades didn't fade until I'd shut the classroom door behind me.
The first hour passed in silence. No one spoke to me. No one sat near me. Even the teacher barely made eye contact. I wasn't just the transfer student anymore—I was radioactive. And the silence around me wasn't emptiness. It was strategy.
– You're on a timer, Yuri whispered during break, sitting beside me without asking. – One more rumor and they won't ignore you. They'll go in for the kill.
– So what do I do? I asked, keeping my voice low.
– You get out. Change the game.
I looked at her.
– Meaning?
She pulled out her phone and showed me a message thread. A location. A time. A name I didn't recognize.
– Tonight. Off campus. A real meeting. Someone wants to talk. Not stalk. Talk.
– About me?
– About everything.
The café was on the edge of downtown, tucked between a bookstore and a bakery that smelled like childhood. I got there fifteen minutes early, because being late felt like the wrong kind of risk. The place was almost empty, dimly lit, all polished wood and glass. I sat in the corner, facing the entrance. I didn't take my coat off.
At exactly seven, the door opened. The girl who walked in wasn't from school. Not in uniform, not polished. Her hair was short, dark, half-tied with a clip. She scanned the room, spotted me, and walked over without hesitation.
– You're Lee Nina?
– Depends who's asking.
She sat down. No smile. No introduction. Just:
– My name's Cha Yena. I used to be like you.
I blinked.
– Transfer student?
– Ghost.
She placed a thin folder on the table. I didn't touch it.
– That's your file. Or what's left of it. They've been erasing pieces for weeks.
– Who's "they"?
– The people who built the system you walked into. Kids like Haeun don't lead it. They just benefit from it.
I narrowed my eyes.
– Why are you helping me?
– Because I tried to fight alone. And I lost.
I opened the folder. Nothing looked familiar. A few scattered records. Redacted entries. My name in bold, but with no past attached to it.
– They're trying to erase you before you even exist here, she said.
– Then what's the point of this?
– To prove it's real. And to show you you're not crazy.
I closed the folder.
– What now?
She hesitated.
– You need allies. Not friends. Not sympathy. Leverage.
– And you're offering that?
– I'm offering truth. What you do with it is yours.
I didn't go home right away. I walked. For almost an hour. Through side streets, past convenience stores and closed bookstores, past people who didn't know my name, and wouldn't care even if they did. The night air felt clearer than anything I'd breathed in weeks. For once, I wasn't being watched. I wasn't being judged. I was just… there.
By the time I reached my building, I'd already made my decision. I climbed the stairs two at a time, unlocked my door, and grabbed the old notebook from the top shelf. The one I kept for emergencies. The one with names. Faces. Threads I hadn't dared to pull. Until now.
I started writing. Jisoo. Bora. The teacher who always looked past me. The admin who pretended I didn't exist. Notes. Patterns. Connections. Who was where. Who said what. Who laughed first. It felt like building a map inside a war zone. And for once, I wasn't on defense.
My phone buzzed. Unknown number. Again.
– "The top ten are untouchable. But the cracks are in the middle."
I stared at the message. Then I typed back.
– "Good. That's where I'll start."
The next morning, the school felt the same—but I didn't. I walked through the gates with the same uniform, same face, same step. But something had shifted. I wasn't waiting anymore. I was watching. Calculating.
In homeroom, Bora whispered something to the girl beside her. I caught the end of it. My name. She didn't even try to lower her voice. I smiled. Not politely. Not nicely. Just enough to make her stop mid-sentence.
During lunch, I didn't sit alone. I didn't wait. I walked to the table near the window where Hyunwoo was eating. He looked up like he'd expected me.
– You're early, he said.
– I'm done playing late.
I sat down. Opened my lunchbox. Ate. In silence. No one interrupted. But everyone noticed.
Later that day, in class, the rankings board flickered back to life. A new update. Everyone rushed to check. I stayed in my seat. I already knew.
Someone gasped.
Someone else whispered.
Then I heard it.
– She's not unranked anymore.