A dancer, the one who had disturbed her earlier, had just spilled a drink on Minho. The sweet liquid flowed down his white t-shirt, forming dark spots on the fabric.

  —Oh no, sorry! She exclaimed, visibly embarrassed. I didn't want to!

  Minho, red with anger, turned abruptly to her.

  —You could be careful! He roared, his voice echoing above the music. The laughter around them was killed, all eyes riveted on the stage.

  The dancer, with a pale face, walked away, while Minho, frustrated, swept the crowd with his eyes.

  — I didn't want to be there anyway! He spat, his voice filled with contempt. He turned to Daehyun, who had approached to try to calm him down.

  —Wait, Minho! Don't leave like that, he implored, his expression going from surprise to anxiety. We were supposed to have a good time.

  —A good time? He replied, his fists clenched. It was you who forced me to come tonight. I'm tired. I'm going home.

  Minho's words resounded like a thunderbolt, leaving Daehyun speechless. He knew he had insisted that he come, but he did not expect such a reaction.

  —Minho, please, he began, but he interrupted him.

  —No, it's over. I'm tired of this game. I don't even want to stay here.

  Saying this, he made his way through the crowd, ignoring the surprised and curious looks of others. Daehyun followed him for a moment with his eyes, a mixture of frustration and regret invading him.

  Outside the nightclub, the fresh air assaults his face, but Minho does not slow down. He needed to get away from the agitation, laughter, and expectations. As he walked, he felt the anger gradually vanish, replaced by a feeling of loneliness.

  Shit party

  He went home, his head full of tumultuous thoughts. As he opened the door of his room, he sighed, letting himself fall on the bed. The music of the nightclub still echoed in his mind, but all he felt at that moment was emptiness.

  One day I will kill Daehyun

  The lights of the city shone through the window, but none of them could illuminate the darkness that invaded it. He got up, went to the kitchen, and poured a glass of water, thinking about the evening he had just left, the ambiguity of his relations with Jisoo, and Daehyun's deaf jealousy. He was not stupid, he knew that Daehyun felt more than friendship for him. This was perhaps one of the reasons why he kept it close to him.

  Minho is the kind of person who sees his interest in a situation, a friend in love can always be useful for something. As for Jisoo, he must for once admit that he was surprised, he had never imagined that the president of the student office had feelings for him. This evening in which he refused to participate, had been very beneficial to him.

  He wondered what a rivalry between Jisoo and Daehyun might look like, but he shook his head, not wanting to be carried away by complicated thoughts.

  —It's just a night like any other, he whispered to himself, wondering if it was worth mixing with the others, to face the tumultuous emotions that surrounded him.

  Inspector Han stood in front of the door of her boss's office, a file in hand and a heavy heart. The walls of the police station seemed to be getting closer to her, suddenly making her aware of the immensity of her task. After the complicated case of the murder at the academy, she needed support and understood the actions of her management, but at the same time, she feared confrontation.

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  —What if I didn't have the right arguments? She wondered about the inner voice that tormented her. She could already imagine the skeptical look of her superior, his incisive questions, his disappointment.

  Not now

  Finally, she stepped back, hesitating to go through the door. She turned and went to the exit of the station, her back pressed against her chest.

  Night had fallen on Seoul, and the city was glittering under the neon lights. The streets, usually lively, were now deserted, and the fresh air brought it a slight clarity.

  Maybe I need some time for myself, she thought as she walked to her house. The weight of the day weighed on her shoulders, and she hoped that sleep would offer her a respite.

  The night brings advice tomorrow I'll see

  When she entered her house, she found a soothing silence. The apartment was dark, barely illuminated by the dim light of the lamp in the corner of the living room. She sat on the couch, her eyes lost in the void, and finally fell asleep.

  But his sleep was troubled.

  She found herself in a classroom, the sound of whispers and laughter resounding around her. His classmates had blurred, indistinct faces, but their laughter seemed familiar to him. She was sitting alone, at a table at the back of the class, her heart beating at all. She could feel the eyes landing on her, heavy and accusing.

  Suddenly, the teacher entered the room. An imposing man with an overwhelming presence, he went through the room with his piercing gaze, as if he were looking for prey. The inspector curled up in her chair, feeling a shiver run down her spine.

  —Han, he said in an authoritarian voice. Come here.

  She hesitated, panic rising in her. The laughter of his comrades vanished, replaced by a heavy silence. She got up, her legs trembling, and advanced towards the teacher's desk.

  —You don't understand, do you? He said a manipulative smile on his lips. You don't have the chance to fail in my class.

  She felt trapped, terror insinuating into her mind. The memories of that moment, well buried in his past, resurfaced, sending him into a whirlwind of emotions. This professor's hands, once reassuring, now became chains locking him in irrational fear.

  She remembers the humiliations, the mockery of her classmates, and the isolation she had felt during these school years. The hours spent crying in silence, trying to make yourself invisible. This same teacher had once taken her arm, whispering words to her that she preferred to forget.

  —Why are you so weak, Han?" You will never succeed. The voice echoed in her mind, like an echo, sending her back to those dark days.

  The classroom began to transform, the walls shrinking, the blurred faces becoming grotesque. Anguish invaded her, and she tried to scream, but no sound came out of her mouth.

  She woke up startled, gazing, tears in her eyes. The darkness of his apartment seemed oppressive to him. She got up, approaching the window to breathe the fresh night air.

  It's just a fucking nightmare.

  She tried to reassure her, but the emotions remained alive. She needed to understand what had happened in her past, to face the demons that still haunted her.

  I have to face my demons if I want to fight for others

  She turned around and looked at the file placed on the table, her heart beating loudly. Maybe this survey was much more than just a job. It was a chance to heal, to find answers to his wounds.

  In her kitchen in front of the refrigerator, she realized that it was already daylight. The morning light filtered through the curtains, filling the room with a soft light. She filled a glass with water and aimed it slowly, trying to refocus.

  What am I going to do today?

  She thought, looking through the window. The streets began to come alive, and the rhythm of the city came back to life, it was an almost normal Sunday for Soojin. She felt torn between her responsibilities as an inspector and her demons.

  She went to the bathroom, thinking about her routine.

  First, a shower, then get dressed.

  She closed her eyes under the jet of hot water, letting the heat comfort her. The drops of water slid over his skin, taking with them some of the accumulated tension. And maybe the demons too.

  The school aims to transmit knowledge, develop skills, and encourage the socialization and personal development of learners. However, the school can also be a shadow theater, where dreams clash with cruelty. Harassment becomes a silent weapon, leaving invisible scars.

  Some find friends, others lose their trust, crushed by social pressures, judgments, and expectations. In these corridors, laughter sometimes hides tears, and the promises of a bright future rub shoulders with fear and isolation. Unfortunately, all institutions have a dark part and the school is no exception.