six

The sky was still dark when Y/N woke up, the soft glow of early morning casting silver shadows across the dorm room. She blinked up at the ceiling for a long time before rolling out of bed, the cold tile biting against her bare feet.

Jisoo was still asleep, her hair a mess of curls spilling over her pillow, one leg dangling off the bed like she'd collapsed after a marathon.

Y/N tiptoed to the small kitchenette, pouring herself a glass of water before returning to her desk. Her sketchpad was open to the page she'd been working on the night before, a half-finished drawing of a faceless silhouette, arms outstretched, like they were falling or maybe flying.

She didn't know which one she felt like anymore.

By the time she arrived on campus, the courtyard was already buzzing. Students streamed between buildings, some late to their morning lectures, others half-asleep with coffee cups in hand. Y/N adjusted the strap of her bag and headed toward her art history class.

But then —

"Y/N!"

She stopped at the sound of her name, turning to see Minjae jogging toward her, hair slightly tousled, smile lazy.

She offered him a tight nod. "Hey."

"You disappeared yesterday after class," he said, falling into step beside her. "I was gonna ask if you wanted to grab lunch."

"I had work," she lied smoothly.

Minjae chuckled. "You always have work."

"It's college," she said, deadpan.

He grinned, but something in his eyes lingered too long. "You sure you're not avoiding me?"

Y/N stopped walking, turning to face him directly. "If I was, would that be a problem?"

Minjae blinked, then laughed it off with a hand in his pocket. "Chill, I'm just messing with you."

But Y/N didn't laugh. She didn't move either.

"I have class," she said finally, brushing past him.

From behind, Minjae watched her go, the easy smile on his lips fading, his posture subtly stiffening. Then he reached into his coat pocket and took out his phone.

A new message thread sat open.

Unknown Contact:Status?

Minjae typed:She's cautious. Still resistant. But we're getting there.

He sent it and locked the phone without waiting for a reply.

Meanwhile, Seong-je sat slouched in the back of the lecture hall, headphones half in, pretending to take notes while his eyes tracked the front entrance.

Sure enough, Y/N walked in a few minutes later, looking tired. She didn't notice him.

But what caught his eye was someone else trailing behind her, Minjae.

He watched the way Minjae smiled too easily, how he leaned slightly toward her when she passed, like trying to absorb her attention.

Seong-je looked away.

Not your business anymore, he told himself.

But his leg bounced restlessly for the next hour, and he didn't take a single note.

That evening, the dorm was quieter than usual. Jisoo was out at a film club meeting, and Y/N sat curled on her bed, hoodie sleeves tugged over her hands, trying to sketch but getting nowhere.

Her phone buzzed with a message.

Seong-je:Library. 8 PM. Bring your laptop.

Y/N stared at the message for a moment. No greeting, no explanation. Just like always.

Still, she found herself getting dressed.

The library was quiet when she arrived,  just the way it always was when he chose it. She spotted Seong-je near the back, surrounded by textbooks and a shared Google Doc already open on his laptop.

"You're late," he said without looking up.

"You didn't say it was urgent."

He gave a half-shrug, still not meeting her eyes.

They worked in silence for a while, but Y/N could feel his unease. She could feel it.

"Spit it out," she said finally.

Seong-je looked at her. Really looked at her.

"That guy. Minjae," he said. "You trust him?"

Y/N stiffened. "Why do you care?"

"I don't," he said quickly. "I just know what it looks like when someone's pretending."

She stared at him, expression unreadable. "Like you did?"

Seong-je flinched.

There was a beat of silence between them. Heavy. Personal.

"I'm not trying to play games, Y/N," he said. "I just—something feels off about him."

Y/N leaned back in her chair, exhaling sharply. "That's not your call to make."

"Maybe not," Seong-je said, his voice low. "But I've seen people use charm to manipulate. Especially around... people like us."

She didn't reply. She couldn't.

Across campus, Minjae sat outside a convenience store, hood pulled over his head as he lit a cigarette.

His phone buzzed again.

Unknown Contact:Her schedule. Who she's close to. Track it all. We'll be in touch soon.

Minjae stared at the message for a long moment before typing:

What if the ex becomes a problem?

The reply was almost immediate.

Then deal with him.

Back at the dorm, Y/N returned to find Jisoo lounging in her pajamas, face masked with green clay.

"Back from the boyband tension hour?" Jisoo asked.

Y/N didn't answer. She just dropped her bag and climbed onto the bed.

Jisoo sat up. "Seriously. Are you okay?"

"I don't know what's happening anymore," Y/N murmured. "Seong-je's acting like he still cares, but he's the one who ruined everything. And Minjae... something about him makes my skin crawl."

Jisoo's teasing expression softened. "Trust your gut. Always."

In his own room, Seong-je opened his old files again, not on the Union, not on Baek Jin, but on himself.

The guilt. The history. The things he did that cost him her trust.

He hadn't thought about the Union in over a year. They were supposed to be gone. Broken.

But that gut feeling wouldn't go away.

And Minjae's face, there was something familiar about it. But no connections. No proof.

Only instinct.

And instinct was how people like him survived.