The rain was heavy that evening, pouring down in silver sheets that blurred the city lights. Ayu sat by her bedroom window, chin resting on her knees, staring at her phone screen.
Her group chat was still open. Dozens of messages scrolled past, laughing emojis, taunts, screenshots.
All of them about her.
Her chest felt tight, like someone had wrapped a chain around her ribs. She scrolled back to the top, to the words that started it all—words she had once whispered to her best friend in confidence.
"I want to be strong one day. Strong enough that no one can hurt me again. Maybe even… rule the mafia. Why not? Someone has to be in control."
It had been a silly confession, spoken in late-night excitement. A dream she had never dared to admit to anyone else. But her best friend—no, the girl she thought was her best friend—had shared it. Not just with one person, but with everyone.
Now they all mocked her for it.
"Ayu wants to be a mafia queen "
"So dramatic. She probably thinks she's in some movie."
"No wonder she acts so fake nice all the time."
Every word cut deeper than a blade.
The memory burned even now.
She had gone to school the next morning, trying to hold her head high, pretending their whispers didn't sting. But her so-called friend avoided her eyes, and when Ayu finally confronted her, she had just shrugged.
"Don't be so sensitive. It was just a joke."
A joke.
Ayu had walked away that day with something heavy in her chest. That was the first time she realized how cruel people could be, how quickly trust could shatter.
But instead of breaking completely, she made herself a silent promise:
If the world wanted to laugh at her dream, then one day, she would make it real.
One day, she would be strong enough to never need anyone's protection. Strong enough to stand alone—even if it meant walking through fire to get there.
Back in the present, Ayu sat at her desk, running her fingers absentmindedly over the keys of her laptop. She had just sent Luv a message before logging off.
Her heart still beat faster whenever she thought of him. He wasn't like the others. He didn't laugh at her dreams, didn't twist her words into weapons. He listened. He believed.
And for the first time in years, she felt that maybe she didn't have to chase strength alone.