Bella sat cross-legged on the bench outside the art wing, her backpack at her feet and a half-dry textbook opened uselessly across her lap. The corner pages were crinkled, warped from water and faintly tinted with blue where the ink had run.
Across from her, Emily unwrapped a sandwich with a sympathetic wince.
"Still soggy?"
Bella flipped another page of her ruined book and tried to keep her voice even. "Every single page." The paper wavered, almost crumbling in her hands.
Emily let out a low whistle. "That's next-level petty."
"It was chlorine," Bella said quietly, glancing down at the ruined book again. "It wasn't just water. Pool water."
Emily paused mid-bite. "You think it was someone from the swim team?"
"I don't know," Bella muttered, though she kind of did. "Maybe not on the team. Just... someone with access."
"Like Hana?"
Bella hesitated.
That had been her first thought. Hana was loud, flirty and transparently competitive when it came to Yunho. But this? It didn't feel like one of Hana's hit-and-run dramatics. This felt colder. Meaner.
"No," Bella said finally. "Not her."
Emily raised a brow. "Then who?"
Bella didn't answer right away. Instead, she looked out across the quad, chewing on the inside of her cheek.
Bella didn't answer. She stared out across the quad where soft sunlight mottled the grass and students were scattered eating lunch, laughing like the world wasn't slowly cracking open. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, trying to put words to a growing dread. Whoever it was hadn't simply been aiming to ruin her books. They were sending a message.
Stay in your place. You're not one of us. He's not yours.
What if she'd made things worse just by being with Yunho? What if this was someone's way of reminding her she didn't belong in his world?
"Maybe it's my fault," she said quietly. "Maybe I pushed too far into something I wasn't really supposed to be part of."
Emily stared at her, stunned. "Bella. No. You didn't ask for someone to soak your books. You kissed a guy. Who likes you. That's not a crime."
Bella didn't look at her. Guilt had a way of wedging itself in places logic couldn't reach and it gnawed at her.
Emily placed her sandwich down, voice softening. "It's not your fault if someone else can't handle their jealousy like a normal human being."
Bella nodded without really feeling it. The lump in her throat didn't budge.
Before either of them could say more, a familiar voice cut through the noise of the lunch crowd.
"Hey."
Bella looked up, Yunho.
He walked up to the bench with two drinks in hand but his eyes were focused solely on her. He looked freshly showered, hair still damp enough to curl faintly at the ends, clean shirt clinging to his shoulders and arms. Without waiting for any invitation, he sat beside her and placed the drinks down, one for each of them.
Almost instinctively, his hand slid to the small of her back, warm and steady, rubbing gentle circles that sent a soft shiver spiraling down Bella's spine. The rough texture of his swim shirt brushed against her skin, grounding her even as her mind fluttered, distracted by the simple, intimate touch.
Her breath caught in her throat, cheeks warming as the faint scent of chlorine mixed with his natural, musky scent filled her senses. It was a heady combination, fresh, clean and undeniably his.
He handed her one of the drinks without a word, like it was just another part of their routine now.
"Hey," she said, forcing her shoulders to ease. She tucked the ruined book deeper into her bag.
Emily glanced at Bella, then back at Yunho, then seemed to make a quick decision. "I've gotta return a call from my brother. Be right back."
Bella shot her a look but Emily only gave a small nod and mouthed tell him before disappearing behind the art building.
Yunho didn't say anything immediately. He kept his hand on Bella's back, his thumb brushing gentle circles, as if trying to soothe something even without knowing what. He opened her drink for her automatically.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
Bella smiled, a soft, practiced thing. "Yeah," she lied. "Just tired."
His eyes lingered on her face like he didn't quite believe her. "You look like your brain's running on too many tabs."
Yunho's fingers kept moving slowly along her back, deliberate and soothing, as if his touch was meant to say, I'm here without words.
She tried to shrug. "It's nothing."
He didn't press. Just opened his own drink, the faint sound of the plastic crinkle punctuating the quiet between them.
For a moment, Bella thought she might tell him everything, the locker, the books, the water, the knot of worry tightening inside her that maybe this all meant more than she wanted to admit. But the words stuck in her throat. She didn't want him to see her as a problem. Or worse: she didn't want him to think she couldn't handle his world.
So instead, she forced the tiniest smile and leaned against his shoulder and muttered, "You always smell like chlorine, you know that?"
Yunho smirked, a slow, confident smile that made her stomach flip. "Guess it's my signature scent now."
And just like that, they slipped into easy banter again, laughing, talking, pretending things were normal.
Because sometimes the hardest truths weren't the ones people told you.
They were the ones you weren't ready to say out loud.
That Evening – Bella's Room
Bella lay on her bed again, this time surrounded not by the warmth of last night's glow, but by the bitter aftertaste of the bad prank.
She could still feel Yunho's hand on her back. She wanted that comfort again. But she was afraid that if she told him, it would start something bigger. Something ugly. She didn't want to be the reason people turned on him. Or worse, the reason he had to choose sides.
Her phone buzzed.
Yunho: Are you free tonight? Can I call?
She stared at the message. A part of her wanted to say yes. Wanted to hear his voice and let him talk her down from the storm in her chest. But another part needed to protect him. He had deadlines, nationals coming up. He didn't need petty drama or distractions.
Bella: I'm okay. Just tired. Tomorrow?
Her thumb hovered. Then she sent it.
She lay back in the silence of her room, whispering to herself what she hadn't told him:
Someone did this because of you. And I think it's one of yours.
She hated the thought. Hated how it cracked something between the joy of last night and the bitterness of today.
Meanwhile, Yunho lay awake in his own room, staring at the ceiling, replaying the tiny furrow in her brow during lunch. He knew she wasn't okay. He could feel it.
He had tried not to obsess, but his chest tightened as he remembered how quickly her smile had faded when she thought he wasn't looking. Something had happened. He closed his eyes and exhaled, telling himself he'd try again tomorrow. Let her rest. But his instincts were screaming something was wrong.