There were a thousand ways to ruin a girl like Minji.
Aara only needed one.
She didn't need to expose the betrayal outright — not yet.She didn't need to fight her in the ring.And she definitely didn't need to scream.
Because girls like Minji didn't bleed in back alleys.
They bled in group chats, in comment sections, in mirror selfies they couldn't post anymore because the wrong kind of truth had cracked the filter.
Step one was simple:Aara smiled at Minji in public.
Really smiled.
In the hallway between classes, in front of three dozen students, teachers, and two members of the media club.
"I missed you," Aara said, tone sweet, just a hint too warm.
Minji blinked. Froze for half a second.Then forced a smile.
"We should catch up," Aara added, lightly. "I have some… stories."
It was enough.
By lunchtime, the school was buzzing.
"Did they make up?""I thought they hated each other.""No, it's worse than that. She's being nice."
Minji wasn't stupid.She knew something was coming.
She just didn't know what kind of war Aara had trained for.
Step two was calculated.
The Media Club posted a "spotlight feature" — something they'd never done before for a student fighter.
Title:
"Ash: A Face, A Fist, A Future."
Inside?
Professional portraits.Exclusive quotes.And one final line that changed everything:
"Not every girl bleeds in silence. Some of us wear the stains like crowns."
Underneath, in italics:Guest contributor: Min Heejin.
Minji lost it.
She cornered Aara in the back staircase, voice sharp.
"You're playing dirty."
Aara turned slowly, eyes calm.
"No. I'm playing smart."
"That wasn't your quote."
"No," Aara said, stepping closer. "But it was your post. And you didn't take it down."
Minji's jaw clenched. "You want to ruin me?"
"No. You did that yourself."
Minji stepped closer, too.
"You think you've won because people like your broken-girl act?"
"No," Aara whispered."I win because I stopped caring if they like me.I'm not performing. I'm rebuilding."
Later that day, the social feed flooded.
Not just the feature.
Not just pictures.
But a leaked voice recording.
Minji.From two months ago.
Saying:
"She'll burn out. Rae just wants her marketable. Once her name's useful, we'll cut her out."
It wasn't rage that followed.
It was silence.
The kind of silence that kills influence faster than hate ever could.
Minji went radio silent for two days.
No posts. No smiles. No dominance.
And Aara?
She didn't gloat.
Didn't even look her way.
Because she didn't need to.
She'd proven the point.
"Pretty girls can burn.But some of us burn on purpose."
Haru watched it all unfold from the sidelines.
Not interfering.
Not stopping it.
Just watching Aara become something that terrified and thrilled him.
That night, back in the apartment, Aara didn't sleep.
She sat on the floor of her room, laptop open, eyes glowing with the light of power she'd never wanted — but now refused to let go of.
Haru stepped in, barefoot, hoodie low over his eyes.
"You did it."
She didn't look at him.
"She deserved worse."
"You didn't destroy her. You let her rot."
"That was the point."
He crouched beside her, slowly, studying the side of her face.
There was no smile. No triumph.
Just exhaustion.
"You're not used to this kind of war."
"I'm adapting."
He paused.
"Does it scare you?"
She looked at him finally.
"What? That I'm becoming what they made me?"
"No," he said."That you're starting to like it."
She didn't answer.
Because maybe…She was.
Later, she opened her journal.
And wrote:
"They wanted me to stay pretty and quiet.They forgot I was trained to hit back harder when it hurts most."