Chapter 10: Cracks in the Mask
941 Words
The courtyard after class was always loud — laughter, footsteps, the sharp echo of voices bouncing off the polished glass walls. Mirae kept her head down as she crossed it, hoodie zipped, backpack hugged against her chest. If she walked fast enough, maybe no one would—
A hand shot out, gripping her wrist.
She gasped, stumbling to a stop.
Baek Taewoo leaned casually against the wall, his foxlike grin curling as his fingers tightened around her sleeve. “Skipping out again, Hoodie Girl? You’re making a habit of running from me.”
Her pulse raced. She tugged against his hold. “Let go.”
Taewoo tilted his head, eyes glittering with mischief. “Or what? You’ll hide behind Joonseo again?”
Mirae’s cheeks burned. “I don’t—he’s not—”
“You should’ve seen his face yesterday,” Taewoo interrupted smoothly, his smirk widening. “The great Kang Joonseo, breaking his perfect silence. All because of you. Do you have any idea what that means?”
“I didn’t ask him to.”
“I know you didn’t.” His voice dropped lower, more dangerous. “That’s what makes it so interesting.”
Her heart stuttered. She yanked harder, but he pulled her closer, their faces inches apart. His cologne wrapped around her, dizzying.
“You really think you can stay invisible here?” Taewoo murmured. “You’ve already ruined that game. And now…” His eyes flicked briefly to her lips. “…now I want to see what you’re hiding under that hoodie.”
Her breath caught. “Stop it.”
“Why?” His grin softened into something sharper. “Afraid you’ll like it?”
“Taewoo!”
The voice broke the moment like shattered glass.
Mirae jerked her head around. Jin Harim was striding toward them, his usually warm smile gone, his brown eyes hard.
“Let her go,” Harim said, his tone low, steady.
Taewoo arched an eyebrow. “What’s this? Little Harim playing hero?”
“I’m not playing.” Harim’s jaw tightened as he stopped beside them. He looked at Taewoo, not backing down. “She said stop. You heard her.”
Mirae’s wrist trembled in Taewoo’s grip. His smirk didn’t falter. “You’re brave when the sun’s out, Harim-ah. But you don’t understand. This girl’s already in the middle whether she likes it or not.”
“Then leave her out of your games,” Harim snapped.
Taewoo chuckled. “Games? Oh, Harim. This isn’t a game anymore.”
“Taewoo.”
The courtyard fell into silence.
Mirae didn’t have to look to know who it was. Her body knew before her mind did, every nerve tightening.
Kang Joonseo.
He stood at the edge of the crowd that had gathered — tall, silent, eyes sharp as blades. His presence cut through the air like frost.
Taewoo’s grin wavered for a fraction of a second. Then he recovered, tilting his head mockingly. “Hyung. Always showing up at the best moments.”
“Let go,” Joonseo said. His voice was calm, flat, but it held the weight of a command.
Taewoo’s grip tightened deliberately. “And if I don’t?”
Joonseo moved before anyone could breathe.
In one swift motion, he closed the distance, his hand gripping Taewoo’s wrist with iron force. Taewoo hissed, his smirk faltering as Joonseo’s eyes burned into his.
“Don’t touch her,” Joonseo said quietly, each word laced with steel.
The courtyard held its breath. No one moved. No one spoke.
Mirae stared, wide-eyed, frozen between them.
Taewoo laughed, but it was thinner this time, edged with tension. “So it’s like that, huh? The ice prince finally cracks. All for a girl in a hoodie.”
Joonseo didn’t flinch. “Try it again, and I’ll break your hand.”
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Taewoo’s grin lingered, but his eyes had darkened. Slowly, he released Mirae’s wrist. Joonseo let go just as sharply, stepping back but never breaking eye contact.
The air between them was heavy, a current that pulled everyone into its gravity.
Finally, Taewoo raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. No need to get violent. But you can’t protect her forever, hyung.” His gaze flicked to Mirae, lingering too long. “Some of us are more patient than others.”
He walked off, the crowd parting around him like water. The whispers began immediately, buzzing, frantic.
Mirae’s knees felt weak. She stared at her wrist, red where Taewoo had gripped it. Her heart pounded against her ribs.
Joonseo turned to her then, his expression unreadable, but his voice softer than before. “Are you okay?”
Her throat tightened. She wanted to answer, but the words stuck.
Harim stepped closer, his presence warm, grounding. “She’s fine,” he said quietly, almost to himself. His hand brushed Mirae’s arm lightly, protective but gentle.
Joonseo’s gaze flicked to Harim, then back to Mirae. For a long moment, silence stretched between the three of them.
Then Joonseo spoke again, low, deliberate. “Stay away from Taewoo.”
He walked off without another word, leaving Mirae trembling, Harim’s hand hovering near hers, and the courtyard buzzing with whispers that would not stop.
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That night, Mirae sat in her room, staring at the faint red mark on her wrist. The lanterns glowed outside her window, the koi pond rippling in the dark.
She touched the mark gently, her chest aching.
Taewoo’s words. Harim’s defense. Joonseo’s fury.
Her hoodie wasn’t enough anymore. She wasn’t invisible. She was the center of something dangerous. And she didn’t know how to escape it.
---
- Writer
