"It's not the truth that ruins everything. It's the moment it no longer stays hidden."
The air in Room 4.12 was stale with anticipation. The kind of silence that presses against your ears not peaceful, but thick with unsaid things. The only sound came from the old ceiling fan, clicking with each turn as if counting down to something inevitable.
Aska sat by the window, fingers tapping against the desk, eyes watching the drizzle that blurred the glass. From the outside, she looked composed, too composed. But inside, her thoughts were spiraling. She had memorized the number of raindrops sliding down the pane, not because she liked rain, but because she couldn't bear to look anyone in the eye.
Ara, on the other hand, paced. Her white sneakers squeaked every time she turned. There was a tremor in her hands as she crossed her arms tightly, trying to contain the storm in her chest. "Why are we even meeting like this again?" she asked sharply, voice low but accusatory. "It's done. We promised no more contact."
Aluna stood near the door, her back straight, expression unreadable. Of all four, she was the quietest. The one people underestimated. She wasn't the one who had hacked into the system that had been Said. But she had said nothing to stop him. That made her guilty, too.
Said was late.
As usual.
"I swear if he drags us into another risk" Ara began, but stopped mid-sentence when the door creaked open.
Said walked in, hoodie damp from the rain, laptop bag slung casually across his shoulder. His smirk, as always, was a mask, confident, mocking, like nothing could touch him.
"Sorry. Power went out. Had to reset my router manually."
Aska didn't look up.
Aluna crossed her arms.
Ara looked like she was about to explode.
"You said you deleted everything," Aluna said first, cold and clear.
"I did," Said replied.
"Then explain this." Aska finally spoke, turning her screen toward them. A screenshot taken that morning. Their shared file. Their cheat sheet. The one thing they agreed would be erased forever. Now it had been accessed again just two hours ago.
"It wasn't me." Said's face lost its amusement.
Ara scoffed. "Classic. Of course you'd say that."
"I'm serious." He leaned forward, setting his bag down. "I didn't touch it. Someone else did."
Aska closed her laptop with a soft click. "Then we have a bigger problem."
They all went silent.
Because the truth was, none of them truly trusted each other. This alliance had never been friendship. It was survival. Their scholarship had demanded top scores flawless performance in a system designed to break even the brightest. So they made a choice. Just once, they told themselves. Just once to secure their futures.
But choices like that never came without consequences.
And now it seemed… someone wasn't done playing.
Said opened his laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard. "I can trace the IP. Give me a minute."
"No," Aluna said. "We're not making it worse."
"We need to know who accessed it," Ara argued.
"And then what?" Aska asked. "Another secret? Another lie to cover the first one?"
"Guilt doesn't vanish when you hide it. It rots, and eventually, it spills."
Said looked up. "Fine. We wait. But if this spreads, if anyone else finds out we're all done. Expelled. Blacklisted. No scholarship. No future."
The silence returned colder this time.
Aska stood. "If anyone asks, we don't know each other. Got it?"
They nodded. One by one. Agreement forged not by trust, but necessity.
Outside, the rain turned heavier.
Inside, four hearts beat with the same rhythm: panic wrapped in silence.
And somewhere, in a dorm room not far from theirs, someone smiled in the dark.
Watching.
Waiting.
Uploading the file to a hidden folder with a single name:
"Evidence."
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A single lie created by fear. A single truth withheld by choice. But revenge, revenge never hides quietly.
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