Chapter 3
Mirae spent the entire weekend holed up in her room, ignoring calls and texts from the boys. She channeled her frustration into schoolwork, a temporary shield against the turmoil. Monday found her back at school, actively avoiding any contact with Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin.
During first period, Renjun habitually reached for the seat beside her, but Mirae swiftly pulled her friend, Haneul, into the space instead. The same tactic repeated during third period when Jeno and Jaemin had reserved their usual seats flanking her. Instead, she headed straight to the back of the classroom, joining a different group of friends.
Lunch saw her bypassing their table entirely, choosing another spot. Even during gym, she partnered with Hyunwoo instead of Haechan.
The boys noticed. They’d expected it, but they’d underestimated her resolve. As the end of the day approached, they waited by her locker, but Mirae never showed. Even thirty minutes after the final bell, long after the last student had left, she didn’t appear.
“Where the hell is she? There’s no way she went straight home.” Haechan checked the time, frustration simmering.
“I was watching the door. She didn’t leave through there,” Jeno confirmed.
“Maybe she’s hanging out with her other friends today?” suggested Mark.
“No way. I watched all of them leave. Jeno saw her go straight to the library,” Jisung countered.
“She’s not in the library either. Jisung and I checked,” added Chenle.
Jaemin nervously paced, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He knew Mirae better than anyone. If she was still in the building, he was determined to find her.
“Wait guys,” he said, stopping abruptly. An idea sparked in his mind. “I think I know where she is. Let’s go.”
---
The moment school ended, Mirae headed straight for the roof. It was her sanctuary, the place she went to cool down. Avoiding the boys was agonizing. She craved answers, but she also knew she needed distance. Getting involved with them felt… dangerous.
Unzipping her backpack, she pulled out her sketchbook and began to draw. She reveled in the quiet solitude, staring out over the city, her pencil scratching across the paper.
The peaceful afternoon shattered when the roof door slammed open. Mirae’s head snapped up.
“I knew she’d be here.”
She turned to see all six of them standing in the doorway. Fear seized her, paralyzing her as they surged forward.
“Mirae! Where were you?”
“We were so worried.”
“Please, we need to talk.”
She stumbled backward, pressing her back against the railing. She pushed herself to stand as they approached.
“P-please don’t hurt me,” she stammered, hands raised in front of her. “I-I swear I won’t say anything about what I saw last night, okay?” The words tumbled out, a jumbled mess of fear.
“You really think we’d hurt you?” Jaemin’s voice was so soft, so gentle, that Mirae couldn’t tear her gaze away. “Mimi, we’d never do that.”
“I just… I don’t know. You guys killed eight people last night like it was nothing. I-I was a witness too…”
“Mirae, it doesn’t matter. You’re our best friend. That matters more than anything.”
“Then what was that Friday night? As your so-called best friend, I deserve to know who the hell you people are and what you do.” The fear receded, replaced by a burning anger. The lies felt like a betrayal.
“We… can’t really tell you.” Jisung glanced at the others, his voice quiet. “That’s kinda confidential information.”
“Oh, okay, so I’m just supposed to accept that my friends are killers?” She scoffed, pushing past them to grab her bag.
“Mirae, we can’t just tell you everything. Please trust us, we’re doing this for you.”
“For me? Lying to me, hiding things, sneaking around to kill people?”
“We’re sorry, we just—” Jeno’s words were cut off by a chorus of beeps from their phones.
They fished the devices from their pockets, exchanging nervous glances. Then they turned to Mirae.
“Let me guess, duty calls? Whatever that means, I’m assuming it’s something like what I saw?”
None of them met her gaze, their eyes fixed on their shoes, shifting nervously.
“Look, if you’re not going to hurt me, fine. I trust that. But whatever this is,” she gestured at them, “I want no part of it. I’ll keep quiet about what happened, and that’s it. I love you guys, but I’m done. With all of this.”
She walked through the door, slamming it shut behind her. Tears welled in her eyes as she left her friends behind. Her heart felt like it was breaking.
“What do we do?” Chenle asked as they watched her go.
“I… I don’t know. We really messed up.” The six of them stood there, staring at the closed door, grief tightening their chests.
“Come on. Taeyong says we have to go. Mark is waiting in the parking lot.” Jeno reluctantly ushered them off the roof and out of the school.
---
Mirae went straight to the library, studying for hours. As dusk settled, she glanced at the time.
*7pm… I should get going. Woojin will be home soon, and I need to get there before he does.*
She packed her books and headed out. It was a thirty-minute walk, a route she’d taken countless times.
She popped an earbud into her ear, queuing up soft music. The moon was her only guide, casting long shadows as she walked.
Halfway home, she felt uneasy. She felt watched. She stopped, turning to scan the darkness. Despite the prickling sensation, she dismissed it and continued walking.
A faint sound of footsteps followed her, causing Mirae to turn again. Nothing.
*I must be imagining things.*
She was less than a block from her apartment when she felt a hand on her shoulder, an arm snaking around her neck, pulling her into a headlock. A hand clamped over her mouth.
“And where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?”
Her body froze for a split second before her instincts kicked in. She drove her elbow into the attacker’s stomach, forcing him to loosen his grip. She spun around and kicked him in the face, then bolted down the block.
Heavy footsteps pursued her. Panicking, she ducked into an alley and hid behind a dumpster, hoping he hadn’t seen her.
Her heart hammered against her ribs. The footsteps drew closer to the alley. She fumbled for her phone, her hand shaking. She dialed a familiar number.
“Mirae? I can’t really talk right—”
“H-help me. Please.”
“What’s wrong?” His voice was laced with panic.
“Someone attacked me, and they’re trying to find me. Please hurry.”
“Shit, shit, shit.” He muttered under his breath. Gunfire and crashing sounds echoed through the line.
“Where are you?”
“I’m in the alley near my apartment—” Her voice was cut short as a hand yanked her out from behind the dumpster.
“Thought you could hide, huh?”