The hallway was louder than usual.
Not with footsteps or lockers slamming — but with voices.Soft, whispering, stretched too long to be normal.
Aara walked through them like fog. Eyes forward. Shoulders squared.But her chest was already tight.
She knew this feeling.
The quiet before a storm.
The kind of silence that didn't mean peace — it meant people were watching.
Waiting.
"Is that her?""She was there.""No way. It can't be.""She looked just like—""I heard she broke his nose—"
The words were sharp around the edges.Said just loud enough to reach her ears.But never said to her face.
Aara didn't react. Didn't even blink.
She'd learned that a long time ago.
Reacting meant giving them something.And she had nothing left to give.
Minji met her at her locker — bright smile, over-accessorized, like nothing was wrong.
"Morning," she chirped.
Aara studied her for a moment. The way she leaned too casually. The way her eyes darted away a little too fast.
"Morning," Aara said.
Minji acted normal. But it was too normal. Too careful.
"Want to skip class today?" Minji offered. "We can go eat trash food and pretend we're not dying inside."
Aara raised a brow. "Since when do you suggest skipping?"
Minji shrugged. "You just seem like you need it."
And maybe she did. But she also wasn't stupid.
She knew this girl. Knew how her voice sounded when it was genuine.
This wasn't it.
So she played along.
"Sure," Aara said, closing her locker. "Where are we going?"
"Roof."
Minji always suggested the roof when she didn't want to be overheard.
That alone was a red flag.
They sat across from each other, backs against the wall, legs stretched out. The sky was cloudy. The wind carried voices from the courtyard below.
Minji fidgeted with her bracelet.
Aara just stared.
"What?" Minji asked, too quickly.
"You tell anyone?" Aara asked.
The pause was her answer.
"What?" Minji said again, trying to laugh it off. "Tell what?"
"You know what."
Minji shifted. Crossed her arms. Looked away.
"I mean… not exactly. I just said—"
"Who did you tell, Minji?"
"I didn't name you!" Minji snapped, louder than she meant to. "I just… I overheard someone talking about Ash. I said it might be someone from our class. That's all."
Aara stared at her.
Dead quiet.
Minji wilted under it.
"I didn't think it would spread like that," she added, voice dropping. "I didn't think anyone would care."
"You didn't think, period."
Minji stood up, pacing now.
"You're being dramatic. They didn't even say it was you. No one knows. They're just guessing."
Aara stood too — slower, calmer.
But the fury under her skin was rising fast.
"I trusted you," she said. "You knew what it would mean if that name got out."
Minji turned, eyes pleading. "You're acting like I sold you out."
"You did."
Down below, a group of girls walked past, pointing up at the roof, laughing.
The rumor had legs now.
It wasn't just whispers anymore.
It was wildfire.
Aara's phone buzzed in her pocket.
She didn't check it.
She already knew who it was.
Haru.
He always knew when something was off — like his obsession tuned him into her distress like a frequency no one else could hear.
Minji tried to recover. "I can fix it."
"No, you can't."
"I didn't mean to—"
"You didn't have to mean it," Aara cut in. "You just had to shut up. But you couldn't even do that."
She didn't hit her.
She didn't yell.
But when Aara walked away, it was with something final in her silence — the kind that says this door is closed now.
Permanently.
Later that day, in the stairwell, Haru was waiting.
Hood up. Hands in pockets. Back against the wall.
He didn't ask what happened.
Just looked at her, calm and unblinking.
"She told them, didn't she?" he asked.
Aara exhaled. "Not directly. But enough."
"I'll handle it."
"No."
"I won't touch her. Just the people who try to come near you now."
She didn't reply.
Didn't have to.
Because in that moment, she knew what was coming.
She had made herself visible.
Ash wasn't a secret anymore.