Michelle sat hunched at her desk, her fingers woven through her hair, the USB sitting on the table like it carried a curse.
"What have i gotten myself into"
*FLASHBACK*
The room was dark except for the blinking screen and the chaos of crumpled paper, torn notebooks, and smashed picture frames scattered around her.
She whispered, her voice low and shaking, "How the hell did that bitch get into Imperials before me..."
She stood, her eyes wide with something between obsession and desperation.
"That's supposed to be me… me… ME!!!"
Crash.
She threw the glass vase against the wall. Flowers wilted. Water spilled down the cracked plaster.
Then came the buzz from her phone.
She staggered toward it like a drunk reaching for one more shot.
It was an article.
*Headline*: *"New Student Nao Saono Gets Into Imperials Through Equal Opportunity Program — A True Inspiration"*
*Image*: Nao, in full uniform, smiling brightly under the school's archway.
Michelle stared at it. Her pupils dilated.
Crack.
Her phone collided with the wall.
"Ha… what a sick joke. This is SICK!"
*NEXT DAY – FC HEADQUARTERS*
"Let go of me!" Michelle shouted, struggling against the secretary's grip.
"You can't go in without an appointment!"
Michelle yanked her arm back violently.
"What may be the cause of this ruckus?" a calm voice interrupted.
****
The door clicked shut behind Michelle, but the cold in the room had already gripped her spine. She stood, the scent of luxury cologne and sterilized leather wrapping around her, clashing with the storm inside her chest.
Mr. Williams moved to his desk, smooth as always. Controlled. Unbothered. Like he already knew what she came for — and how it would end.
Michelle's lips parted, her words firm, but her throat was dry.
"I know."
He didn't look up. "You know?"
"I know… the secrets," she said, fists trembling.
Mr. Williams raised his eyes, slowly. "Secrets?"
"What kept this school standing. The deaths behind it all."
For a second, the only sound was the low hum of the air vent above.
Then he chuckled — dark and careless.
"Deaths?" he repeated, almost amused. "Well, thank you for complimenting my work over the years."
Michelle stared, heart pounding. She wanted to sound fearless, but her skin had started to chill.
"You're a murderer," she said.
He tilted his head.
"My dad was a detective," she continued. "I grew up with stories that never made the news. Things buried under money and power. So I got curious. Looked deeper. Found what was under all that shiny Imperial cover. It's not as perfect as it looks."Mr. Williams leaned back slightly, now visibly entertained.
"And I suppose that makes *you* a detective now, Michelle?"
He laughed — a slow, dry sound.
But Michelle wasn't done.
"I bypassed the school's history files. The buried investigations. The sealed disciplinary cases. I know who you paid off. And I know whose blood cleaned the foundations."
That wiped the grin from his face.
He picked up his phone calmly.
"Escort the young girl out," he said to someone on the line.
Michelle's breath hitched.
"W–Wait."
Her voice cracked.
"I'll expose you if you don't admit me into Imperials."
He looked up.
A flicker of something darker passed through his eyes — not surprise, not anger. Something much colder. He ended the call without another word.
"Don't worry… Mrs. Kira."
He stood up, tall, composed, powerful.
Michelle instinctively stepped back.
"Threat?" he asked casually.
"I'm serious," she whispered.
His smirk twisted into something sharper.
"Go ahead then. Expose me. It'll make a good read… for about a minute. If you get the chance to write it at all."
She didn't respond. But her silence screamed louder than anything else.
He leaned forward slightly, folding his arms on the edge of the desk. His voice.
"Mr. Williams!" Michelle gasped, breathless, wild-eyed.
"Yes?"
"Use me," she said, voice strained.
His brows rose, intrigued. "Use you?"
"I can help you… I can—"
Michelle's hands were shaking slightly now.
"I know things," she said quickly. "I can dig deeper. I know Nao. I know her weakness. Her trauma. I can be your weapon."
Mr. Williams stepped forward slowly.
He didn't smile.
Didn't blink.
Just stared.
"Go on…" he said, eyes narrowing.
Michelle straightened her back.
"I want to be in Imperials. Officially. As a student, not as a shadow. I'll do what you want. Use me however you need. Just put me in."
A beat of silence.
Then Mr. Williams' lips curved into something dangerously amused.
"Now we're speaking the same language."
He stepped closer. Close enough for her to smell the cologne again.
He tilted his head.
"But the question is, Michelle… what exactly makes you *useful*?"
The air turned cold.
Michelle swallowed.
And said, "Whatever it takes."
*PRESENT DAY — *
Michelle sat in the corner of her room, knees drawn to her chest, her head buried in her palms. The walls around her were closing in with the weight of guilt and desperation. The silence in the house was suffocating, pierced only by the sound of her shaky breath.
"I was stupid to think… I could threaten a manipulator," she whispered, trembling.
Her voice cracked as her hands slowly moved to grip her hair.
"Now I'm on the verge of suicide… this is all your fault, Nao."
Her words weren't screamed. They were muttered like a curse. Like a truth she didn't want to admit.
A broken whisper meant for no one but herself.
---
*A FEW DAYS LATER — IMPERIALS DEBATE HALL, JEJU ISLAND*
The once calm academic building now buzzed with anticipation. Students, faculty, and a few special invitees filled the spacious, glass-walled hall. Cameras rolled. Uniforms were crisp. The air was thick with nerves and unspoken rivalries.
"Finally…"
Mrs. Marion's heels echoed sharply against the stage floor as she stepped to the center.
"…the beginning of Imperials' 28th Year Class Debate," she announced, arms stretched with ceremonial pride.
Spotlights above ignited.
Two long debate tables stood opposite each other like warships ready for battle."I'm betting everything on *Viki*. Have you *seen* her walk? She's already royalty."
"Forget Viki. *Nathan* exists," another girl whispered, causing a chain of stifled giggles.
Above the stage, a massive screen lit up with this year's first topic in bold:
*"Silence Can Be Justified in the Pursuit of Power?"*
The digital *scoreboard* below flickered to life. All teams: *0%*.
No points yet. But the war had begun.
The crowd hushed.
Mrs. Marion stepped down from the stage and the microphone auto-tilted toward the debaters.
Nao's eyes briefly flicked to Kaze across the room.
He didn't look at her.
*Silence.*
*Power.*
*Justified.*
The topic felt too close to home.
Because Nao knew—
Today wasn't just about winning.
It was about *what each of them was willing to sacrifice* in the name of power.
And whether silence… would damn them. Or save them.