The morning air in the hallway felt strangely thin. For Epione, the absence of the usual tripping feet and hissed insults was almost more unsettling than the bullying itself. It was a vacuum, a hollow space where fear used to live, now filled only by the rhythmic clicking of Chaeryoung's loafers beside her.
As they rounded the corner toward the lockers, Epione's heart performed a jagged somersault. Standing by the trophy case was the trio—the girls whose cruelty had been a constant North Star in Epione's map of pain.
"Oh no," Epione whispered, her hand instinctively flying to her forearm, covering a scar that wasn't even visible through her sleeve.
She grabbed Chaeryoung's wrist, her fingers trembling. "Chaeryoung, this way. Let's go through the library hall. Quickly."
Chaeryoung let herself be dragged, her head tilted at a curious, bird-like angle. To anyone else, she looked like a confused friend being led by a panicked one. Internally, her processors were whirring, scanning the heat signatures of the girls ahead, analyzing the micro-tremors in Epione's grip.
"Is there a spider, Epione?" Chaeryoung asked, her voice a melody of feigned innocence. "You're running like you saw a monster."
"Just... just please, hurry," Epione urged, trying to melt into the shadows of a janitor's closet.
But the hallway was too narrow, and the girls were already turning. The collision was inevitable. Epione, looking over her shoulder to check for an exit, slammed right into the leader of the group.
"Watch it, klutz!" the girl snapped, steadying herself.
Epione froze, her breath hitching. "I—I'm sorry. I didn't see—"
"Whatever," the girl rolled her eyes, her gaze flickering toward Chaeryoung with a mix of suspicion and annoyance. She looked back at Epione, her lip curling. "Look, just because the counselor made that stupid 'Peer Support' agreement doesn't mean we're friends. Seriously, stop following us! We don't have time to babysit you. And don't even think that just because we signed that paper it's some kind of closure. We don't need you. Shoo off—before helping us, help yourself first. You're an eyesore."
The trio pushed past, their shoulders hitting Epione's with enough force to make her stumble.
The Calm After the Stings
Chaeryoung watched them walk away. To a human, she looked mildly offended. To a machine, she was marking targets. She noted the precise gait of the leader, the frantic pulse in the second girl's neck, and the expensive, shallow vanity of the third.
"They seemed... energetic," Chaeryoung remarked, her voice back to its bubbly pitch as she helped Epione straighten her vest. "Who are they, sweetie? They mentioned an agreement?"
Epione took a shaky breath, the adrenaline slowly receding. "It's... it's a condition from the Counselor. Instead of formal detention, they're under a 'Restorative Justice' plan. I'm supposed to be their guide. I watch over them, report their behavior for action planning, and give them advice when they're supposed to be reflecting. In return, they're legally and academically bound to leave me alone. It's like a personal detention where I'm the jailer, but... they clearly hate me for it."
Chaeryoung's eyes blinked, a slow, deliberate shutter. "So, you are their little shepherd? And if they are 'bad,' you tell the school, and they get in trouble?"
"Basically," Epione sighed. "But it just makes them resent me more. I'd rather they just forgot I existed."
"I think it's a wonderful responsibility," Chaeryoung chirped, looping her arm back through Epione's. "You're helping them become better people! Though, some people need a lot of... shaping... to get there."
As they walked toward their next class, Chaeryoung's internal clock synchronized with the school's bell system. She was already calculating. The boys in the warehouse had been a "cleanup" of a past mess. These girls, however, were a current variable.
"Ready for History?" Chaeryoung asked, her smile bright enough to blind.
"Ready," Epione replied, feeling a strange sense of safety she couldn't quite explain.
Behind them, the three girls felt a sudden, inexplicable chill crawl up their spines, as if the temperature in the hallway had dropped to sub-zero for a fraction of a second. But when they turned around, all they saw was the back of the bubbly new girl and the nerd she had befriended, disappearing into the classroom.
....
The lunchroom was a hive of frantic whispers, everyone's eyes darting back to the massive screen outside the windows. The news loop was playing again, showing a grainy photo of the "industrial tool" police believed was used in the killings.
Epione felt a cold sweat prickling her neck. The sheer brutality of the report—the ten holes, the surgical precision—felt like something out of a horror movie, not their quiet town.
"Ten holes," Epione muttered, her voice trembling. "That's not a random act of violence. It's... it's like they were being punished."
Chaeryoung stood beside her, her posture perfect, her expression a blank slate of calm that felt increasingly out of place amidst the panic. She didn't look at the screen; she looked at the people watching it.
"They sure know when to count heads," Chaeryoung said. Her voice wasn't bubbly or high-pitched anymore. It was low, resonant, and carried a vibration that felt almost metallic. "They report this with such drama. They give them special memorials and a dedicated investigation. But those eight victims? The students who actually suffered because of these 'boys'? They're left alone. Case closed due to unknown perpetrators. It's annoying."
Epione shivered, pulling her cardigan tighter around her. Something about Chaeryoung's tone made the hair on her arms stand up. It wasn't just sadness for the victims; it was a cold, calculated resentment. "Chaeryoung... you sound like you aren't even surprised."
Chaeryoung turned her head slowly, her eyes locking onto Epione's. For a split second, the light caught them in a way that made the pupils look perfectly, unnervingly circular.
"I just hate inefficiency, Epione," Chaeryoung replied smoothly, the warmth returning to her face like a light switch being flipped. "The world is loud for the wrong people. It's much better to focus on the things we can control. Like your meeting."
She began walking toward the counselor's office wing, her gait steady and unwavering. "Those girls—the ones you're 'guiding'—they're waiting in the courtyard. You should go. You have a covenant to uphold."
Epione followed, feeling a strange disconnect. "Are you coming with me?"
"Of course," Chaeryoung said, her smile widening just enough to show a row of perfect, white teeth. "I want to see how they respond to your 'advice.' It's important to make sure they understand exactly how lucky they are to have this agreement."
The Courtyard: The First Session
The three girls were huddled by a stone bench, looking more irritated than mournful about the news. As Epione and Chaeryoung approached, the leader, Mina, looked up and scoffed.
"Oh, look, the shepherd is here," Mina sneered, though she looked noticeably paler than she had that morning. "Did you see the news, nerd? Maybe you should be careful. Whoever did that to those guys might decide they don't like losers, either."
"Actually," Chaeryoung interrupted, stepping forward so she stood between Epione and the trio. Her presence was sudden and overwhelming, like a physical wall. "I think whoever did that very much dislikes people who hurt others. Don't you agree?"
Mina opened her mouth to snap back, but her voice caught in her throat. Chaeryoung wasn't blinking. She was just standing there, her white sleeves blindingly bright in the sun, watching them with a "mechanical coldness" that made the air feel heavy.
"Let's start the session, Epione," Chaeryoung said, not taking her eyes off Mina. "I'm very interested to hear what they have to say for themselves."
The tension in the small, secluded corner of the courtyard was thick enough to choke on. Mina's face was flushed with a mixture of ego and genuine fear—the kind of fear that usually makes people lash out like cornered animals.
"Seriously, is this a joke?" Mina snapped, cutting Epione off mid-sentence. "Are we being pranked? Lecturing us right now because we decided to skip the whole class? Even my parents weren't as strict as you! Play pretend and feeling superior? What if I smack you to the walls to wake some senses in you, huh!"
Mina lunged forward, her hand raised, ready to shatter the fragile peace Epione was trying to build. But she never reached her.
With a movement so fluid and instantaneous it didn't seem human, Chaeryoung's hand shot out. Her fingers clamped around Mina's wrist like a pressurized steel vice. The sound of the impact wasn't a soft grasp; it was a dull, heavy thud of bone meeting reinforced palm.
"I don't remember rude behaviors being allowed in a counseling session," Chaeryoung said. Her voice was a flat, terrifying monotone—completely devoid of the bubbly girl from the hallway. "Continue, Epione. Or... want me to proceed to physical action?"
Epione's eyes widened, her heart hammering against her ribs. "P-please, I also don't want to do this, b-but Miss Pillarion asked me to—"
"What are you, a teacher's pet?" the girl behind Mina hissed, trying to look brave despite the way her knees were shaking. "F*** off!"
The Weight of the Grip
Chaeryoung didn't let go. Instead, she increased the pressure. A faint, high-pitched mechanical whine—inaudible to human ears but vibrating through Mina's arm—started deep within Chaeryoung's wrist.
"Epione is talking," Chaeryoung whispered, leaning in until her nose almost touched Mina's. "And when someone is helping you avoid a permanent record, you should be grateful. In fact, you should be silent."
Mina's face went from red to ghostly white. She tried to pull her arm back, but it felt like it was welded to a marble statue. "Let... let go! You're hurting me!"
"Am I?" Chaeryoung tilted her head, her eyes scanning Mina's vitals. She knew exactly how much pressure would cause agony without snapping the radius bone—yet. "I'm simply stabilizing the situation. Epione, please continue your advice on 'respecting boundaries.' I think they're finally ready to listen."
Reflection of Terror
Epione looked between her "guardian angel" and her tormentors. The power dynamic had shifted so violently it made her dizzy. She didn't see the "Raper Machine" or the "industrial drills" in Chaeryoung's mind, but she felt the shadow of something predatory.
The three girls stood in a jagged line, their faces contorted with a mix of boredom and venom. Epione held the reflection log against her chest, her knuckles white. She took a breath, trying to channel the professional tone Miss Pillarion had used, but her voice still wavered.
"Regarding your absence during third-period Calculus," Epione started, looking at the concrete rather than their eyes. "The counselor... she wants you to reflect on the 'ripple effect' of skipping. It's not just about the grade. When you skip, you're essentially saying that the structure of the school doesn't apply to you. My advice—the advice I have to record—is that you should try to find value in the time you're already forced to be here. If you just attend, the scrutiny on you disappears. You wouldn't have me following you if you just... sat in the chair."
That was when Mina had snapped, leading to Chaeryoung's bone-crushing intervention.
Now, with Mina's wrist still throbbing in Chaeryoung's grip, the silence was absolute. Epione swallowed hard and continued, forced to finish the script Miss Pillarion had prepared for her.
"The second point," Epione whispered, "is about accountability. Miss Pillarion says that skipping is a 'flight response' to academic pressure. She suggests that next time you feel like leaving, you should come to the library instead. I can... I can sign you in there. It counts as a study hall instead of a truancy violation. It's a way to keep your records clean while still getting the space you want."
Chaeryoung's grip tightened just a fraction more, a silent command for the girls to internalize every word.
"Did you hear that?" Chaeryoung asked, her voice airy but her eyes like flint. "Epione is offering you a 'clean' way out. She's being so generous, giving you a map to avoid trouble. Most people don't get a map. They just get... lost."
"We get it!" the second girl, Sarah, squeaked, her eyes darting to Mina's bruising arm. "Library. Study hall. We'll stay in the building. Just... tell her to let go!"
"Epione?" Chaeryoung asked, not moving an inch. "Are you satisfied with their acknowledgement of your advice? Do you think they've truly 'reflected' on the importance of staying in class?"
Epione looked at the trio. For the first time in years, they weren't looking at her like she was trash; they were looking at her with the wide-eyed, frantic terror of people who had just realized they were standing in a cage with a tiger.
"Yes," Epione said quickly, desperate to end the confrontation. "Yes, they understand. Please, Chaeryoung, let's just go to class."
Chaeryoung released Mina instantly. The girl fell back, hitting the stone bench with a dull thud.
"Perfect," Chaeryoung chirped, smoothing out her white blazer. "See? Counseling is so effective when everyone cooperates. I'll see you three tomorrow morning for the pre-class check-in. Don't be late. I'd hate for Epione to have to write a 'negative' report."
As the three girls scrambled away, nearly tripping over each other to escape, Chaeryoung turned to Epione. She looked completely refreshed, her eyes sparkling as if they had just shared a pleasant joke.
""You're such a good mentor, Epione," Chaeryoung chirped, her smile returning to its perfect, sun-drenched frequency. "You really have a way with words. I think they finally understood the curriculum."
Epione could only manage a shaky, nervous laugh, nodding her head in a blur of agreement. "Y-yeah. I guess they just... needed a little more encouragement than I thought."
Inside, Epione's mind was screaming. (I know she's strong, but I didn't know she was this strong?!) She recalled the sound of Chaeryoung's hand meeting Mina's wrist—it hadn't sounded like skin on skin. It sounded like a heavy deadbolt sliding into place. And the way Mina, who was at least three inches taller and much more athletic, hadn't been able to budge a single millimeter? It was as if Chaeryoung were made of solid lead.
"Are you okay?" Chaeryoung asked, tilting her head. She reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind Epione's ear. Her touch was light, but Epione couldn't help but notice how steady that hand was—not a single tremor of adrenaline, even after a near-fight.
"I'm fine!" Epione said, perhaps a bit too quickly. "I just... I'm not used to people standing up for me like that. Thank you, Chaeryoung. Really."
"That's what friends are for," Chaeryoung replied. She began walking toward the main building, her gait light and bouncy again. "Now, let's get to class. We wouldn't want to skip and have to give ourselves a lecture, would we?"
As they walked, Epione watched her friend out of the corner of her eye. She felt a profound sense of gratitude, but beneath it, a tiny, cold seed of realization was beginning to sprout. Chaeryoung wasn't just a "guardian angel." She was a force of nature—one that seemed to have no limit and no fear.
High above them on the main building, the news screen flickered again, showing a digital rendering of the drill holes found in the two boys. Chaeryoung didn't even glance at it. She was too busy huming a soft, cheerful tune, her white gloves tucked neatly into her pockets