The Blade's Edge
The summer sun was relentless, scorching the outdoor fencing piste until the white canvas glared like a mirror. A thick hum of anticipation hung in the air, broken only by the rhythmic fanning of students and the hushed whispers of those placing bets on the sidelines.
“En garde!” the referee’s voice sliced through the heat.
Masks snapped down. Foils up. The world narrowed to the tip of a blade.
“Prêtes?”
“Allez!”
Steel rang against steel—a sharp, melodic chaos. Footwork flashed across the canvas—lunge, parry, feint. The crowd held its breath as the two figures blurred in a dance of precision. Then, with one lightning-quick thrust, the tip of a foil made a clean hit right against the chest.
“Halt! Touché! Match—Red!”
Park Jae-In ripped off her mask. A mess of damp black hair fell over her forehead, but she didn't care. She turned toward her opponent, a feral, triumphant grin stretching across her face.
On the other side, Lee Bong-Suk tore her own mask away, her face flushed a deep, angry crimson.
“Yah, Jae-In-ah,” Bong-Suk panted, her voice trembling with frustration. “Don’t get cocky just because you got lucky. It was a fluke.”
Jae-In cocked her head, her eyes sparkling with a razor-thin mischief. “Lucky?” she echoed, her voice dropping to a cool hum. “How would you even know what winning feels like, Bong-Suk? You’ve never actually tasted it.”
She gave a nonchalant shrug, tucked her foil under her arm, and turned to walk away. “Bye, babe.”
“I’ll break that ego of yours, Park Jae-In! Just watch!” Bong-Suk screamed at her back, her fists balled at her sides. Jae-In didn't even look back.
Minutes later, with her uniform thrown on and her tie hanging crookedly around her neck, Jae-In winced as the coach’s whistle pierced the air.
“Classrooms, now! It’s mandatory attendance week. Miss a second of it, and you’ll be in detention until summer ends! Move!”
A collective groan echoed through the hallway. Jae-In sighed, leaning her head back. “Pure torture,” she muttered, trudging toward her classroom.
She slid into the seat next to Kim Ji-Soo, who greeted her with a soft, knowing smile.
“Jae-In-ah, annyeong,” Ji-Soo whispered. “I honestly thought I’d find you napping in the equipment room again.”
“Minimum attendance bullshit,” Jae-In grumbled, slouching in her chair. “This is soul-crushing.”
Ji-Soo tilted her head, her eyes twinkling. “I’m here. How is that soul-crushing?” She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “The match? You crushed them, right?”
Jae-In smirked. “Do you honestly think anyone in this school can beat me?”
Ji-Soo laughed quietly, reaching out to flick Jae-In’s crooked tie. “Nope. You’re Park Jae-In—the undefeated terror of the piste. Still savage. Still my favorite menace.”
“Flattery won’t save you from buying the ramyeon after class, Ji-Soo.”
The classroom door creaked open, and the atmosphere shifted instantly. The chatter died down as a figure stepped inside.
Cha Eun-Woo.
His uniform was crisp, without a single wrinkle. His face was a masterpiece of sharp angles and cold indifference, radiating an aura that felt like an arctic breeze. Squeals rippled through the rows of girls as he walked past, his eyes never once straying from the path ahead. He took a seat in the very back, opened a notebook, and began to write.
Jae-In leaned toward Ji-Soo, her brow furrowing. “Who the hell is that?”
“New transfer. Today is his first day, I think,” Ji-Soo whispered, her gaze lingering on the back of his head.
“Great. Another pretty distraction,” Jae-In muttered.
Ji-Soo nudged her foot under the desk. “Behave. He seems quiet.” Then, she added in a tiny, dazed voice, “...and he’s kind of handsome, don't you think?”
Jae-In glanced back at the 'Ice Prince.' “Hm. He looks like he’s made of stone. Anyway, let’s find Tae-Hyung. I need someone to roast.”
“Stay,” Ji-Soo grabbed her wrist as Jae-In started to rise. “Class is starting. He’ll show up.”
Jae-In slumped back. “Fine.”
Right on cue, the door burst open. Lim Tae-Hyung sprinted in, looking like he’d just run a marathon. “Teacher’s coming—move, move, move!”
He caught sight of the new guy, did a double-take, and then jogged over to drop into the empty seat beside Jae-In.
“Ji-Soo-yah… who is the Ice Prince back there?” he panted.
“New transfer,” Ji-Soo replied for the tenth time.
Tae-Hyung turned his grin toward Jae-In. “Minimum attendance squad? Count me in.”
Jae-In rolled her eyes. “The only reason you’re here is because you spent all morning begging people to buy tickets for your 'concert.'”
Tae-Hyung clutched his chest as if he’d been shot. “My concert is going to be legendary! You’ll be begging me for backstage passes soon.”
“Legendary? Tae-Hyung, you crack on every single high note,” Jae-In retorted.
“Take it back!” Tae-Hyung reached out to flick her forehead, and for a moment, they were a blur of elbows and playful swats—until Ji-Soo’s voice cut through them like cold steel.
“Yah.”
They froze.
“Settle down. The teacher is in the hall,” Ji-Soo warned. Tae-Hyung immediately sat back, putting on his best 'innocent student' face.
Jae-In huffed, crossing her arms. “Buzzkill.”
The teacher entered, scanning the room. “Full house today.” He nodded toward the back. “Transfer student. Introduction. Quick.”
Eun-Woo stood up slowly. He walked to the front with a grace that felt almost robotic. “Cha Eun-Woo. Transferred today. That’s all.”
No smile. No bow. He simply turned and sat back down.
Jae-In whispered to Tae-Hyung, “Bro, that was over before it even started.”
Tae-Hyung nodded, looking impressed. “Short and sweet.”
“Not sweet,” Jae-In muttered, watching the back of Eun-Woo’s head. “Cold as ice.”
The recess bell was music to Jae-In’s ears. She stretched, her joints popping after the soul-crushing boredom of math. Beside her, Ji-Soo was already vibrating with nervous energy, her fingers twisting the straps of her backpack.
“Jae-In-ah... the broadcasting booth. Recess. Remember?” Ji-Soo’s voice was barely a whisper.
Jae-In rolled her eyes but stood up. “Fine. Let’s go see your Prince Charming. But if he ignores us, you’re buying me two iced coffees, not one. Deal?”
“Deal!” Ji-Soo dragged her out of the room.
They reached the broadcasting booth. Through the glass window, they could see Cho Ro-Woon. He was wearing his headphones, a gentle focus on his face as he adjusted the soundboard. The sunlight from the window caught his soft features, making him look like he’d stepped out of a shampoo commercial.
Jae-In nudged Ji-Soo. “Go on. Talk to him. Properly this time.”
Ji-Soo looked like she was about to pass out. “I want to... but I’ll freeze. Jae-In, please? You start. Just a little push?”
Jae-In sighed, the classic 'Best Friend Burden' weighing on her. “Fine. I’ll set the stage, you do the acting.”
She pushed the door open. The smell of old paper and electronics hit her. Ro-Woon looked up, and his face instantly broke into a warm, genuine smile.
“Park Jae-In,” Ro-Woon’s voice was like honey. “How’s my favorite fencer? Still winning every match?”
“Surviving, Oppa,” Jae-In leaned against the desk, her tone easy. “But I’m not the one you should be talking to today.” She leaned in closer, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “My bestie here has something very important to—”
She turned around, hand out to present Ji-Soo.
Empty hallway.
The only thing there was a stray dust bunny and the sound of distant students. Ji-Soo had vanished into thin air.
Jae-In’s smile turned into a flat line. She died a little inside. Coward!
She cleared her throat, turning back to a confused Ro-Woon. “...She, uh... had a sudden medical emergency. Very sudden. Probably a leg cramp. She had to sprint to the infirmary.”
Ro-Woon blinked, then chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Emergencies happen. Tell her I hope she feels better. And fighting with your matches , Jae-In-ah.”
Jae-In gave a clumsy salute, her face heating up from the secondhand embarrassment. “Yeah. Fighting. Bye!”
She backed out of the room and slammed the door. As soon as she was in the hall, her temper flared. “Kim Ji-Soo, when I find you, I am going to sell your makeup to the highest bidder!”
She marched down the hall, her steps fast and angry. “What is wrong with her? One second she’s hyped, the next she’s a ghost. If she thinks I’m going to—"
CRACK.
A sharp corner. A loose floor tile. A girl with too much steam in her head.
Jae-In’s foot snagged. The floor rushed up to meet her.
“Crap—”
She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the impact. But instead of cold tile, she felt a sudden, powerful grip on her elbow. A hand clamped down, firm and steady, yanking her back with enough force to pull her upright.
Jae-In’s breath hitched. She stumbled, her chest nearly hitting the person who’d caught her.
She looked up.
Cha Eun-Woo.
He was looking down at her, his face inches away. His hand was still tight on her arm, his other hand braced against the wall behind her head. He had literally 'Kabedon-ed' her without even trying.
His eyes were like dark, unreadable pools of ink. For a split second, the hallway noise vanished. All Jae-In could hear was the frantic thump-thump of her own heart—and the faint, clean scent of his cologne. It smelled like rain and expensive soap.
Her heartbeat slammed against her ribs.
