99 — The Unveiling

People like Dae Hee were a headache. A dull, persistent throb at the base of the skull, the kind you couldn't massage away. You could ignore it for a while, but it was always there, a reminder of a problem you hadn't solved.

I had to be careful. Too much space, and she might get reckless. Too little, and I'd be caught in a web of my own making. How do you deal with a stalker? You can't call the police without making her a martyr in her own mind. You can't reason with her, because her reality is filtered through a lens of desperate need. You could confront her, but that might just pour gasoline on the fire.

You never know what kind of fuel a person runs on. Some people, it's love. Some, it's hate. They are utterly unrestrained, capable of anything. They will stop at nothing to achieve their ends.

So I decided to do the one thing that seemed both counterintuitive and, perhaps, the only (in)sane choice left.

I decided to treat her like a person. A deeply flawed, potentially dangerous person, but a person nonetheless. The best way to understand a predator was to walk into its territory, not as prey, but as something else entirely. Something it couldn't categorize.

And maybe, just maybe, I could get a clue as to what she really wanted.

It's a dangerous game, playing with fire. But sometimes, you have to get burned to understand the nature of the flame. I knew the risks. I knew she could turn on me, that my sisters could become collateral damage in her quest for... whatever it was she was questionable questing for.

But I also knew this—I couldn't live my life looking over my shoulder. I couldn't let her presence dictate my movements. I had to face her, to turn and stare into the darkness until it blinked.

Until it looked away.

And to do that, I needed to see her. On my own terms.

I found her near the old athletics track behind the school, a place perpetually shrouded in the shade of the surrounding buildings. She was sitting on one of the cold, stone bleachers, a textbook open on her lap, but her eyes were distant, fixed on the empty track.

She looked small. Fragile. Completely harmless.

Holding her chin with both hands, she hadn't turned a single page in her book for ten minutes now, yet remained seated, her eyes listless. Her long, brown hair fell forward over her shoulders and her dark brown eyes held an unblinking stare. I didn't approach. I stayed hidden in the shadows of a nearby structure. I just watched her.

Watched her and waited.

A direct approach would seem strange now. People knew me on campus.

I slipped on the sunglasses I'd kept in my bag and tied a simple surgical mask over my mouth and nose. This would get me closer without her recognizing me right away. I wanted to watch first, to see her before she saw me. With my features hidden, I was just another shadow moving along the edge of the track.

As I made my way closer, she turned a page, slowly and deliberately. Still, her gaze was far away. Unfocused. The words must be just as unseeable.

Many students passed her by, yet none stopped to sit by her, talk to her, acknowledge her. Even from a distance, I could feel her loneliness.

It's an odd thing. Loneliness. A kind of sadness. The most insidious, feral type of all, a black void with invisible teeth.

Loneliness is an emotional desert. There is no relief from it. Only distance, an ability to drift. A practiced aloofness.

I wondered where Go Bin, her friend, was in all of this. As the minutes trickled by, Dae Hee didn't shift an inch. The breeze blew through her hair and ruffled the pages of her book, yet her position remained fixed, hunched forward.

I didn't know how long I hid in the shadows and watched her. She'd moved a total of two times, once to flip a page in her book, then to pull her hair back.

Otherwise, nothing.

It wasn't until after most students had retreated for the day and the track and field team started their drills that Dae Hee finally shifted. She closed her textbook, stood up, and left without looking back. I followed her at a safe distance. Not close enough to draw her eye, but enough to not lose sight of her in the crowd of students rushing back to class.

She didn't speak to anyone. Didn't so much as nod as she passed other students.

I've got a few looks, myself. The sunglasses and mask combo was a little too noticeable for a school setting. And why the hell did no one call me out, even with my face half-covered?

My phone buzzed. I blinked down at the name across the screen, and smiled.

Mia: Babyyy

She continued typing.

Mia: Let's have dinner, like a date. I've had enough of others taking up my baby brother.

Mia: Hmm, maybe I could even rent a B&B?

My fingers moved across the screen, a reply forming.

You: Rent a B&B with you? And do what?

Mia: And do whatever you want, Jae-il. The things I'd let you do...

I chuckled. This damn Noona of mine with the subtlety of a brick through a window.

You: It's the national team training camp. I can't leave.

Mia: Sneak out? You've done so before.

You: Yes, but not to stay a whole day outside.

Mia: It'd be only a night, you could leave again and go back before the sun is even up. What do they have to feed you there, anyway? Mushed potatoes and unseasoned chicken? I can make you something better. Something warm and satisfying. I can be warm and satisfying.

And then she sent me a picture.

And by the Gods, the picture.

Mia, reclined on her bed. Not naked, but her shirt, one of mine, was pulled up over her stomach, revealing the soft, pale skin and the curve of her hip. The fabric of my shirt was stretched taut over her breasts, her nipples hard little points against the thin cotton. Her knees were curled up, her beautiful, pale, perfectly chubby and smooth thighs on full display.

I typed back, my thumbs moving with a newfound urgency.

You: You're a menace.

Mia: Your menace ;)

You: Fine, I'll sneak out even if I have to teleport. Don't get it wrong though, it's not for you, I just want to taste your food.

Mia: Sure. The food.

I could practically hear her smug grin through the screen. I pocketed my phone, a low chuckle escaping me. Then I remembered that I was supposed to be tailing a potential stalker.

My gaze darted to where Dae Hee had been. She was gone. Vanished. I scanned the thinning crowd of students, my eyes searching for her small frame, her brown hair. Nothing.

Cursing under my breath, I walked towards the main school building, my eyes darting down every hallway, every corner. I checked the library, the cafeteria, and some of the empty classrooms. Still nothing.

It was only after I heard overlapping voices wafting from nearby that my footsteps halted.

I peeked around the corner of a quiet corridor.

Ah, there she was.

Under the stairs, talking to Go Bin.

The atmosphere between the two of them was quite tense. At least, going off body language alone. Go Bin's face was scrunched with unease and she was shaking her head, her hands gesturing sharply as she spoke.

Dae Hee's posture was rigid, her shoulders squared. I couldn't hear their words from this distance, but the whole scene screamed of an argument.

Then, Dae Hee turned and walked away.

Go Bin's fists clenched, her head bowed, her shoulders shaking.

"......"

I didn't stop to check up on Go Bin; she wasn't my target, as sorry as I felt for her. Dae Hee was. I turned and followed after the latter, my steps light and silent. At this point, I doubted I'd get any important information on Dae Hee. Not here, anyway. All I found out was that Dae Hee was on her own for the most part.

The only friend she had was Go Bin, yet Dae Hee seemed to be pushing her away. And judging by that heated exchange between the two of them just now, Go Bin seemed pretty worried, too. Maybe she had noticed something different about Dae Hee, just as I did. After all, there's just so much change one could brush away and excuse as a minor quirk.

I sighed, lifting my hand.

There was nothing more to be gained here.

I pulled off my mask and sunglasses, my stride quickening.

xXx

Dae Hee's POV:

How do you build something on nothing?

How do you fill a hole? With love? With revenge? With a man who barely knows you exist?

Dae Hee sat alone, tucked away in a corner of the classroom.

Sunlight streamed through the windows, catching on motes of dust in the air, the scents of sweat and gym clothes and chalk drifting across the desks.

Around her, her classmates chatted and joked, the clamor of their voices rising and falling with every bout of laughter.

She tried to tune them out, the weight of her book, the routine, steadying her thoughts, keeping her tethered.

She was trying to stay in the present, focus on the task at hand. Her pen scribbled notes across the page, her handwriting, usually neat and orderly, a mess, the curves too big, the tails uneven.

The truth was that she couldn't think of the historical facts, the dates and names and places. All she could think about was his face. She had spied on him last night—barely got a wink of sleep. And when she did fall into a restless slumber, it was haunted by a pair of eyes.

Dark, deep-set, they stared up at her, through her.

The kind of eyes that spoke, the kind that said all sorts of things without having to say a word at all. Ah, she wanted to claw them out. Those stupid purple eyes of his. Claw them out and preserve them for herself. So that they couldn't look at anyone else. So that they wouldn't.

Her nose wrinkled as she thought back to their encounter at Club Paradise. Then sighed.

The way he had stared at her, the way he'd dismissed her. The way his indifference had felt like a physical blow.

He probably smelled the crazy on her. The desperation. That must be it.

He'd seen right through her little act, her little charade of the shy, vulnerable girl. And he had been... unimpressed.

It was infuriating. It was humiliating.

As soon as class ended, everyone began to file out. A blur of faces that she couldn't even bother remembering, because those faces weren't his. What a miserable life... she knew it.

She waited until everyone had gone.

Dae Hee packed her bag.

She walked out into the now-empty hallway, her footsteps echoing in the sudden silence. She kept her head down, her eyes fixed on the scuffed floor. She just wanted to go home.

"Hey."

A soft, familiar voice.

Dae Hee froze.

She looked up.

There he was.

Leaning against the wall, a few lockers down, his hands shoved into his pockets. The afternoon light caught the sharp line of his jaw, the messy dark hair that fell across his forehead. His eyes, those impossible purple-pink eyes, were fixed on her.

'What?'

Dae Hee blinked,

She was hallucinating.

It had to be.

The stress, the lack of sleep, the obsessive thoughts—it was finally manifesting into full-blown delusions. A figment of her desire, standing right there in front of her.

She squeezed her eyes shut, and then opened them again.

He was still there.

"Jae-il... Oppa."

The name left her lips in a breathy whisper. Then she frowned, fully remembering the events that took place back Club Paradise. She straightened up, her expression hardening. "What do you want? Did you come back to reject me some more?"

A small, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips. "Maybe I just wanted to talk."

"Talk?" She scoffed, a bitter sound. "You didn't seem too interested in talking the other night."

"You're right, and I apologize for that. I wasn't exactly in my element." Jae-il admitted, looking at her deep in the eyes. Slowly, he peeled himself off of the wall and came closer.

Dae Hee didn't speak. She just watched him, her mind racing.

This was a trap.

It had to be. A game. He was playing with her, toying with her, just like all the others. Just like his father.

No.

No. Jae-il was not his father.

But, what if...

"I was a jerk." He continued, scratching the back of his head. "You came up to me, trying to be friendly, and I kind of ignored you. I was... distracted. A lot on my mind."

"Is that so?" Dae Hee crossed her arms over her chest, a defensive gesture. "Well, I'm fine, thank you for asking."

"I know. And you have every right to be upset with me." He took another step closer, and this time, she didn't flinch. He was now standing right in front of her, so close she could feel the warmth radiating from his body, could smell the faint, clean scent of his cologne.

The tendrils seeped into her nostrils. She took a deep whiff… of her nemesis.

"But I'd like to make it up to you." He said.

"Make it up to me?"

"Mhm."

Her heart hammered against her ribs, a wild, frantic drumbeat. Her mouth went dry.

"How?"