Dawon International Academy was not just a school—it was a world carved out of marble and expectations. Tall arched windows let sunlight dance across spotless white floors. The girls here didn't just study; they curated their legacies. Tucked in the green heart of Seoul, the academy bred elegance and ambition in equal parts.
And this morning, the air was thick with it.
The classroom of 2-A was abuzz with the soft rustle of designer blazers, whispers behind notebooks, and the occasional glint of a compact mirror. Everyone was seated. Everyone but her.
Then the door clicked.
She entered.
Shin Jiwon.
Her steps were slow, deliberate, and echoing. As if the floor bent to her rhythm. Long black hair, parted neatly, shimmered under the lights. Her uniform was perfectly pressed, ribbon tied with mathematical precision. Her expression was unreadable. A porcelain doll carved from grace and discipline.
The teacher barely looked up. "Miss Shin. Late again."
Jiwon bowed slightly, voice calm. "It won't happen again, seonsaengnim."
She took the only empty seat—second row, middle column.
A seat that used to belong to someone else.
Across the room, a faint scoff was heard. Delicate fingers tapped on a pink phone case, manicured nails shining with baby blue gloss.
Kang Mina.
Eyes lined like a runway model, lips curled in the most elegant smirk. She didn't bother hiding it. Her voice floated across the room like perfume.
"Wow. I guess being late is the new classy. How... inspiring."
A few girls giggled nervously.
Jiwon didn't look at her. She opened her notebook with the serenity of a monk in meditation.
The teacher continued the lesson, but no one was listening. The real subject was the silent war.
They weren't always like this.
A year ago, Shin Jiwon and Kang Mina were inseparable. Jiwon, with her icy elegance, and Mina, the flame everyone fluttered around. Together, they ruled Dawon like two stars in perfect orbit.
But stars collapse. And no one knew why.
Now, the hallways held tension like perfume in the air.
Every look, every blink, every whisper—it was a game.
Lunch arrived like a break in a storm. The cafeteria buzzed with girls in pastel cardigans and sparkling brooches, laughing over imported desserts.
Mina sat with her court—three perfectly curated best friends who clung to her every word. She leaned back in her chair, legs crossed, sipping iced vanilla latte like she was born on a runway.
Jiwon sat alone by the window.
Mina's voice rose.
"Did you hear? The new ballet teacher trained at Juilliard. Jiwon must be thrilled. Finally, someone who might out-perfect her."
More giggles. One girl choked on her strawberry mochi.
Jiwon didn't move.
But her hand paused over her tray. Just a second.
Then resumed.
Mina saw it. Her smirk deepened.
Later that day, the announcement speakers crackled to life.
"All students of Class 2-A, report to the auditorium for your Founders' Week orientation."
Uniform skirts swept against polished floors. Mina walked ahead, leading her group like a queen entering court. Jiwon followed behind. Alone. Always alone.
The auditorium was a cathedral of glass and gold. The school crest shimmered above the stage. As students filled the rows, Mina took a seat front row, center. Jiwon slid into a side row, third from the aisle.
As the headmistress spoke, eyes weren't on the stage. They were darting between the two girls.
Two crowns. Two thrones. One school.
When it ended, Mina rose first.
She passed by Jiwon, slowed her steps just enough, leaned slightly.
"Still playing ice princess, Jiwon? Or are you just scared I'll melt you first?"
It was soft. Meant only for Jiwon. And she didn't flinch.
But Mina saw the fingers curl tighter around her skirt.
Victory, soft and sweet.
That evening, as dusk painted the academy in gold, Jiwon stood alone on the rooftop. Wind tugged at her blazer.
She looked out over the school. Perfect. Polished. Beautiful.
But beauty can be a mask.
And masks always crack.
She closed her eyes.
Somewhere in her memory, a laugh echoed.
Three girls. A rooftop. A promise.
Then smoke.
Then nothing.
And she whispered:
"You think you can win? Oh no, darling. This is just the beginning."
To be continued...