NOW PLAYING: COVER ME - BY STRAY KIDS

❛Yeah, I tried to hide away from all the sorrow and pain
But little did I know that I was going insane
The sun will always be there, waiting after the rain.❜

✦ ⎯⎯ㅤִㅤ୭ ୨♡୧ ৎㅤִ  ⎯⎯ ✦

If there's anything else Yu-ri loathed it was her extended family sometimes they were insufferable. Always cooking up some family dramas but then again I guess it's an Asian family staple at this point. Just as she was about to melt away into her bed she heard a loud knock on the front door. Her head bolted to the direction. There was no way.

Her grandfather, who just so happened to be passing her as she opened her bedroom door smiled, "You should go down and see who it is." Quickly, she fumbled to make herself look somewhat presentable, brushing her flicked up bangs. Just as she was about to go downstairs she heard the creaking of the floorboards.

It was her father he'd finally returned from his family trip. He flashed her one of his signature smiles his eyes crinkled, "Hey kid, ya doing good?" He spoke, gently patting his daughter's head, gently ruffling her hair playfully. Yu-ri chuckled softly, "Yeah, I'm good, thanks for asking, how was the flight?" Her father shrugged nonchalantly, "It was okay, anyways...you coming down for dinner?"

Originally, she has no appetite nor the desire but now that her father was back she had no reason to decline their usual family dinner, with her parents, grandfather and little brother. "Sure. I'll come soon." She said watching him descend the stairs.

The rich, spicy aroma of kimchi jjigae, punctuated by the subtle sweetness of freshly steamed rice, guided Yu-ri towards the heart of the house - the dining room. It was a comforting, familiar scent, a signal that she was home. Her grandfather, a stoic figure whose presence filled the room despite his quiet nature, sat at the head of the long, polished table. His silence wasn't empty; it hummed with a lifetime of wisdom and experience, radiating a sense of profound calm.

Her stepmother, Ji-woo, flitted around the table, a whirlwind of efficient grace as she adjusted the placement of various banchan - the small, colorful side dishes that were the soul of a Korean meal. There was a certain rhythm to her movements, born of years spent perfecting the art of creating a harmonious dining experience. Ji-woo was, undeniably, a good woman - kind, considerate, and perpetually thoughtful. She had stepped into a difficult role, trying her best to mend the gaping hole left by Yu-ri's biological mother. Yu-ri genuinely liked her, appreciated her efforts, but their relationship was more cordial, based on mutual respect and gratitude, rather than the messy, unconditional love she craved. It was a comfortable arrangement, but sometimes, especially on nights like these, the distance felt palpable.

"Yu-ri, come, sit! You're just in time," Ji-woo chirped, her smile warm and welcoming. She gestured to the empty seat beside her, a deliberate invitation into her orbit.

Across the table, her younger brother, Min-jun, a miniature whirlwind of pre-teen energy, was already attacking his rice bowl with the unrestrained enthusiasm typical of a twelve-year-old boy. He paused mid-bite, his cheeks bulging, to shoot her a playful, if undignified, grimace.

"You look like you just rolled out of bed," he mumbled, rice clinging precariously to the corners of his mouth.

Yu-ri rolled her eyes, a practiced maneuver honed over years of sibling rivalry. "And you look like you haven't discovered the concept of chewing with your mouth closed. Or basic hygiene, for that matter."

"Kids, kids," their father interjected, his voice laced with amusement. A smile played on his lips as he observed their familiar banter. "Save the insults for later. Min-jun, manners! And Yu-ri, be nice to your brother. He probably just misses you."

As they ate, a comfortable rhythm settled over the table. The conversation flowed easily, a tapestry woven from threads of Korean and English, reflecting their bicultural lives. They talked about her father's recent business trip to Seoul, Min-jun's latest obsession with a dystopian video game that involved rescuing kittens (much to Yu-ri's amusement), and, inevitably, the looming specter of school exams. With each bite of the savory stew and each shared joke, Yu-ri felt herself relaxing, the tension she'd been unconsciously carrying throughout the day slowly dissipating. This, she thought, was what family was supposed to be like - a messy, imperfect, beautiful blend of chaos, love, and an abundance of food. It was home.

"How are your studies progressing, Yu-ri?" Her grandfather asked, his voice a low rumble that commanded attention without demanding it. His gaze, though sharp, held a surprising gentleness. He was a man of few words, but his opinions carried weight.

"They're going well, Grandpa," she replied, carefully choosing her words. She didn't want to burden him - or anyone else, for that matter - with the simmering pressure of her academic rivalry with Jiyong. It felt petty, almost childish, to complain about something so trivial. Nor did she dare mention the... incident in the library. The memory still burned with an uncomfortable heat. "Exams are coming up, so I'm putting in extra hours."

"Good, good," he nodded in approval, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Hard work always pays off. Diligence is the key to success."

Her father chimed in, his voice tinged with a wistful warmth. "Your mother would be so proud of you, Yu-ri. She always valued education above all else. She believed it was the key to unlocking your potential."

A pang of sadness, familiar and sharp as a shard of broken glass, struck Yu-ri's heart. She always felt her mother's absence most keenly during moments like these - at family dinners, during milestones, anything where the gaping hole in their family picture was thrown into stark relief. The loss still hurt, a dull ache that lingered even after all these years. She forced a smile, hoping it looked genuine. "Thanks, Dad. I hope so."

After dinner, as she helped Ji-woo clear the table, stacking plates and rinsing silverware in a companionable silence, her father approached her. "Hey, Yu-ri," he said, his voice softer now, laced with concern. "I noticed you seemed a little... distracted earlier. Everything okay? You seem a million miles away."

Yu-ri hesitated, caught between her desire to protect him from worry and her inability to completely mask her feelings. She didn't want to burden him with the anxieties of a teenager, but she also didn't want to lie. "It's just school, Dad. A little stressful, that's all. Exam season, you know."

He studied her intently, his eyes - so like her mother's - searching hers with an uncanny accuracy. He'd always been able to read her emotions with an almost unsettling ease. He saw through her half-truths and carefully constructed facades. "Alright," he said finally, his voice still holding a note of reservation, "but if you ever need to talk, about anything at all, you know I'm here, right? No matter how big or small it seems."

"I know, Dad," she said, leaning in to hug him. The familiar scent of his cologne, a mix of sandalwood and something subtly spicy, was instantly comforting. "Thanks."

Later that night, as she lay in bed, the gentle hum of the air conditioner a constant backdrop to her racing thoughts, images of her father and mother swirled in her mind, intertwined with the unsettling memory of her encounter with Jiyong in the library. Was she being too sensitive? Overreacting to a fleeting moment? The questions gnawed at her, fueling her anxiety about the upcoming exams. She needed to compartmentalize, to focus, to study. She needed to prove to herself - and maybe, just maybe, to Jiyong - that she was capable and strong, that she wasn't defined by her mother's absence or her perceived shortcomings. She had to find a way to silence the doubts and anxieties that were threatening to consume her. The road ahead was long, and she knew she couldn't afford to stumble.

The next morning dawned with a crispness that did little to soothe Yu-ri's frayed nerves. Determined to compartmentalize the unsettling events of the previous day, she arrived at school with a manufactured air of normalcy. Her steps were purposeful as she headed straight for her locker, her mind already a battleground of complex equations and obscure historical dates - anything to distract from the gnawing anxiety that threatened to consume her. She fumbled slightly with the lock, her fingers tapping out the familiar combination when a voice, unexpectedly close, shattered her fragile focus.

"Yu-ri?"

She turned, her heart giving a betraying flutter, to find Daesung standing a few feet away. He looked, if possible, even more awkward than usual, his usually sunny disposition clouded with a hesitant concern. Behind him, partially obscured by the morning crowd of students, she could make out the figures of Seunghyun and Yongbae, lingering in the hallway like back-up dancers waiting for their cue.

Yu-ri resisted the urge to roll her eyes heavenward. What could they possibly want? She just wanted to study, to lose herself in the comforting rigidity of academics. This unexpected interruption was the last thing she needed right now. She was about to pivot back to her locker, feigning deafness, when she heard Daesung speak again, his voice surprisingly gentle, almost pleading.

"Hey, um, can we talk for a second?" he asked, his voice a low murmur against the backdrop of chattering students and slamming lockers.

She sighed, a puff of exasperation escaping her lips. Resigned. "I'm kind of busy, Daesung," she said, striving for a cool, dismissive tone. "What is it? I have a history test later this afternoon."

Daesung shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a subtle display of his unease. "I just wanted to... well, apologize. For Jiyong's behavior yesterday. He can be a real jerk sometimes, and he really went overboard with the teasing...and the dares." He paused, wringing his hands a little, a gesture so uncharacteristic that it momentarily caught Yu-ri off guard. "We also noticed you were acting weird, so we were a little worried... like, really worried."

Yu-ri's eyes narrowed, suspicion lacing her gaze. "Weird? I was just focused on my studies," she retorted, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "Isn't that what good students do?"

"I'm not saying that you weren't. But, like, you took off in a hurry after school and seemed...distracted," Daesung insisted, his concern etching deeper lines on his forehead. "It wasn't just Jiyong. You seemed upset about something else too, even before he started acting up. And honestly," he added, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "it didn't feel like exam stress. It felt like something...more."

Seunghyun, who had been leaning against the lockers, pushed off the wall and stepped forward, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a surprisingly serious expression. "He's right, Yu-ri. We were talking about it last night. Something seemed off. We wondered..." He trailed off, unsure of how to broach the subject, the unspoken question hanging heavy in the air. Had they suspected something more than exam stress? Had they somehow glimpsed the fear that had been slowly consuming her?

Yongbae nodded in agreement, his usually cheerful face subdued, his bright eyes filled with a gentle empathy that made Yu-ri want to squirm. "If something is going on, you can talk to us. We're... friends, right? Friends are supposed to help."

Yu-ri looked from one face to the other, feeling a confusing mix of irritation - at their persistence, at their intrusion, at their perception - and... something akin to gratitude. Irritation because she didn't want to be the subject of their concern, didn't want to admit vulnerability, didn't want to expose the cracks in her carefully constructed façade of competence. Gratitude because... well, maybe she wasn't as alone as she thought. Maybe, just maybe, there were people who genuinely cared. Still, opening up, revealing the truth, was not in her plans. Not now, not ever. The secrets she carried were too dangerous, too fragile to share.

"I appreciate the concern," she said, her tone softening slightly, the sharp edges of her defensiveness beginning to smooth. "But I assure you, I'm fine. Really. I was just tired and, yes, a little stressed about the exam. Jiyong's antics didn't help, but it's nothing I can't handle." She forced a small smile, hoping it looked convincing, willing them to believe her flimsy denial.

Daesung wasn't buying it. He was perceptive, far more than people gave him credit for. He could see the shadows under her eyes, the subtle tension in her shoulders, the way she avoided direct eye contact. "Are you sure? Because if Jiyong said something or did something... something more than we saw..."

"He didn't," Yu-ri interrupted, a little too quickly, her voice a touch too sharp. "He just... rattled me. That's all." A half-truth, expertly crafted to conceal the genuine fear that gripped her. Jiyong was a catalyst, not the cause.

"Okay," Daesung said slowly, his eyes still searching her face, unwilling to let go of his suspicion. "But we're here if you need anything. Anything at all. Even if it's just someone to study with to take your mind off things. Or someone to yell at if Jiyong acts up again."

Seunghyun clapped Daesung on the shoulder, his serious expression lightening slightly. "Yeah, what he said. Don't hesitate, Yu-ri. We're not always jerks." He grinned, trying to lighten the mood, injecting a dose of his characteristic humor into the tense atmosphere.

Yu-ri managed another, slightly more genuine smile. "Thanks, guys. I appreciate that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really do need to get to my locker. And then maybe hide in the library until my first class."

They stepped aside reluctantly as she finally inputted her combination, the familiar click of the lock a small comfort amidst the turmoil in her mind. As she opened the locker, the jumbled mess of textbooks and notebooks seemed to mock her organized efforts. She could feel their eyes on her, a mixture of concern and curiosity, like birds watching a trapped animal. She grabbed her textbooks, avoiding their gaze, and muttered a quick "See you later," before disappearing into the crowded hallway.

Walking away, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had just opened a door, ever so slightly, to something she had always fiercely guarded against: connection. And she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a terrible mistake. The possibility of genuine friendship was tempting, but the risk of exposing her secrets was terrifying.

As she walked further and further away, attempting to disappear into the anonymity of the student body, Daesung couldn't help but feel that Yu-ri was hiding something, something dangerous and something serious. He glanced over at Seunghyun and Yongbae, both of whom shared his unease. As much as Jiyong tried to brush it off, dismissing Yu-ri's behavior as typical anxiety, Daesung knew in his heart that this was just the beginning. And if he had to find out what was happening with her, he would, regardless of the cost.

----------

CHAPTER BY ; seoin & jay

WORDS COUNT !
2,573