[+..••⁸]

[+..••] 𝖁ᥱᥣ᥎ᥱ𝗍 𝕮һᥲіᥒs

Seoul High, the next day

It was strange, how normal things felt after everything.

The school hallway buzzed with low-level chaos. Girls fixing their skirts, boys shoving each other playfully, teachers yelling over the morning bell, and the sound of lockers slamming open and shut like war drums in the background. But at the center of it all-untouchable, unbothered, and unmistakably them-stood the Royals.

Baek Iseul leaned against her locker, sleek and sharp in her perfectly tailored uniform, her expression unreadable. Her hair was tied in a high ponytail today, simple but striking. There was always something effortless about her presence. Something dangerous, too.

And of course, wherever Iseul was-the boys weren't far behind.

Kyung-jun strolled up first, hands in his blazer pockets, tie loose, his usual smirk already in place like it belonged there. "Why does it feel like you're always waiting for me, princess?" he asked, head tilting as he leaned his shoulder lazily against the locker next to hers.

Iseul didn't even glance at him. "Delusional first thing in the morning? You didn't even eat breakfast yet."

Kyung-jun clutched his chest dramatically. "Ouch. You wound me, my queen."

Seungtae appeared next, slinging his bag off his shoulder and looking equally as unruly, though in a different way-he was sharper. Always the fire to Kyung-jun's breeze. "Can't believe I have to deal with both of you before first period," he muttered, shooting Kyung-jun a side glance.

"Oh, please," Kyung-jun replied, smug, "You'd cry if we left you alone with your thoughts."

Iseul smirked slightly at that, barely there but real.

"I don't cry," Seungtae snapped back, already annoyed.

"You sure?" Kyung-jun teased, stepping closer to Iseul. "Because I feel like you'd get a little emotional if someone else sat next to Iseul today in Chem."

Seungtae's jaw ticked. "You mean like you? You gonna start measuring who gets closer to her now, or are we just claiming territory like cavemen?"

Kyung-jun looked genuinely thoughtful. "I mean... depends. Should I pee on her locker next or would that be too obvious?"

Iseul let out a low sigh. "Can you both shut up before someone thinks I'm babysitting delinquents?"

"That wouldn't be too far from the truth," Ki-tae's voice came from behind them.

He walked by, late as always, coffee in one hand, a lollipop in the other-because he was nothing if not unpredictable. He stopped just long enough to look at Iseul and say, "Math teacher's looking for you. Something about your test. You should go. I'll keep Tweedle-Dumb and Tweedle-Dumber entertained."

"You're Tweedle-Watchdog," Kyung-jun muttered.

"I'm the guy who knows where all your browser history goes," Ki-tae said without even looking back, and Kyung-jun immediately shut up.

Iseul moved through the hallway like it belonged to her, and in a way-it did. The students parted, some watching her with awe, others with fear, some with envy. It didn't matter. She didn't need their approval. Only her boys needed to fall in line. And right now, they were at each other's throats... because of her.

Seungtae ran a hand through his hair, watching her leave. "She's being quieter lately."

"Maybe she's tired of pretending we're not both in love with her," Kyung-jun said, a little too casually.

Seungtae stared at him. "You're not serious."

Kyung-jun just smiled.

That was the problem.He always smiled when he was serious.

⸻

Later that day-lunch hour

The Royals took their usual corner of the cafeteria. Iseul sat at the center, long legs crossed, scrolling through her phone like she wasn't aware of every eye on her. The table was filled with unopened lunch boxes-gifts, bribes, peace offerings. She didn't touch any of them.

Ki-tae leaned back in his chair, hacking something casually while sipping his coffee like a high-school Bond villain. Seungtae sat with one arm slung across the back of Iseul's chair, watching everyone who dared to glance too long.

Kyung-jun, of course, was on full flirt mode.

"Hey, Iseul," he said, leaning in just enough to catch her attention, "What if I confessed to you right now in front of everyone?"

She didn't even blink. "Then I'd kindly ask the staff to remove you before the secondhand embarrassment knocks me out."

Seungtae grinned. "Oof."

Kyung-jun shrugged, not deterred in the slightest. "Still worth it."

⸻

But peace, as always, is fragile.

Even in this slow-burn moment, under the laughs and the casual chaos, something lingered. Something between Seungtae's watchful eyes and Kyung-jun's teasing glances. Something behind Ki-tae's silence as he tapped away on his tablet.

They were at peace-but not for long.

Because with people like them, the world never stayed still.

And Iseul?She already felt it in her bones.

Peace was just a breath.War was always a whisper away.

⸻

The smell of smoke and blood was sharp in the air.

The underground was alive again-crowded, roaring, electric. Seoul's secret arena lit in deep red hues, shadows dancing on bare walls like whispers of violence. Fights were called one after another, fists cracking jaws, feet scraping concrete, and the crowd pressing in, eyes hungry.

It was another fight night. But tonight-There was a different kind of tension in the air.

And it wasn't just because of the fighters.

Baek Iseul stood near the rusted cage entrance, arms crossed, her black boots propped against the wall, cool as ever. Leather jacket slung low, her expression unreadable, but sharp. Her hair was pulled back, and even in the chaos, she looked untouchable-an underground queen in her throne room of ruin.

Except tonight, her eyes kept flicking.To him.

Kyung-jun stood on the other side of the space, practically glowing in the shadows. He was laughing with a few other Royals who'd shown up for the fights, bouncing on the balls of his feet, tapping his knuckles against his jaw like he couldn't wait to jump in the ring. His usual cocky grin was plastered across his face-but every so often, he'd glance sideways.

Straight at her.

And this time, Iseul didn't look away.

⸻

"Baek," a voice called behind her. Ki-tae, holding a tablet and barely glancing up, slid her the list. "Your match is third tonight. She's fast. Keep it clean. Or don't. I've got bets on both outcomes."

Iseul took the file and raised a brow. "You really bet against me?"

Ki-tae smirked. "I bet against everyone. Equal chaos."

She snorted. "You're sick."

"And you're still the one going in there with your teeth bared like a knife," he said, already turning. "Try not to break her spine. You're hard to explain to hospital staff."

⸻

Later-Match 3

The cage opened, the crowd roared.

Iseul walked in like a storm, rolling her shoulders, jaw set. She didn't need theatrics-her presence was enough. The girl waiting inside bounced nervously on her feet, clearly regretting her choices.

Kyung-jun leaned in the front row of the crowd, arms crossed, watching her with the kind of interest that was dangerous.

And she felt it.

For the first time in a long time, the heat in her chest wasn't from adrenaline alone. It was from that gaze. The way he looked at her-like she was wild, wicked, and something holy all at once.

She turned toward him slightly, giving him the smallest glance. A flicker of a smirk.And then-she smiled.

Not a big one. Not the kind she'd flash at the press.Just a subtle, secret smile that said:Yeah. I see you.

And Kyung-jun?He lost it.

"Bro," Seungtae muttered beside him, scowling, "Stop smiling like that. You're drooling."

"I'm just admiring greatness," Kyung-jun said, eyes still locked on Iseul.

"You're gonna get kicked in the face one of these days."

"Worth it," Kyung-jun grinned.

⸻

Inside the ring, Iseul was a shadow with teeth.

She didn't just win-she made it look beautiful. Swift jabs, a twist of her body, a knee to the ribs, a sharp pivot-and then her opponent hit the floor hard, groaning, out cold.

The underground erupted.

But all Iseul did was step back, breath steady, chest rising and falling like she was barely winded. She tossed her hair back, glanced toward the crowd, eyes sharp-

And saw Kyung-jun, clapping slow.Smirking.

For once, the chaos wasn't in the fight.

It was between them.And it was just beginning to burn.