The next morning, the sky looked too clean.
It was the kind of clear morning that usually meant relief. Sunlight through glass. Cool air that felt crisp instead of cruel. Students walking with coffee in hand like they had all the time in the world.
But campus did not match the sky.
Campus felt like it was holding its breath.
XH noticed it immediately. There were fewer jokes in the corridor. Fewer lazy conversations about nothing. More people standing still, checking phones, speaking in whispers that sounded rehearsed.
The same phrase floated through the air again and again.
"They're announcing something today."
No one knew what. That was the problem.
Rumor had become a daily ritual. Everyone woke up and checked for new information the way they checked for weather.
XH entered the main building and saw a familiar crowd around the notice board again. This time, the paper taped to it was new.
He moved closer.
It was a short announcement printed in careful language.
A "faculty briefing" would occur at noon.
All health track students were expected to attend.
The word expected made people tense.
JP appeared beside XH, squinting at the notice like it might insult him.
"Well," JP muttered, "this is either good news or the start of a nightmare."
TZ joined, arms crossed. "No in between."
NS stood behind them, quiet, gaze sharp.
Kitty approached with NC and Anna. She read the notice silently, then looked up at XH for half a second before looking away again.
June arrived a moment later, read it once, and did not react outwardly. But XH saw the slight tightening in her jaw. Like she was forcing herself not to show fear.
They went to class, but focus was fragile.
Lectures happened, but students kept glancing at the clock.
Noon approached slowly, like a door closing.
When the final minute came, the lecturer dismissed them early, voice stiff. "Go to the auditorium. Don't be late."
As they walked, XH noticed how organized the panic had become. People were no longer whispering randomly. They were comparing screenshots, making predictions, mapping outcomes.
"It's about the Headmaster.""It's about funding.""They're going to restructure the program.""They're going to cut the international path.""They're going to offer compensation.""They're going to tell us to transfer out."
Each theory carried a different kind of fear.
The auditorium filled quickly.
XH sat with the boys, but he could feel Kitty and June's presence even without seeing them.
Kitty sat with NC and Anna on the left side, closer than usual to the aisle. Her posture was calm, but her fingers moved slightly, tapping her thumb against her knuckle. A nervous habit she probably did not realize she was showing.
June sat nearer the front, alone. Not because she had no friends, but because she wanted control of what she heard. Her back was straight. Her gaze was fixed on the stage.
The stage was brighter than it should have been.
A faculty line formed again.
And again, the Headmaster's chair sat empty.
The room quieted.
An instructor stepped up to the microphone.
"We will keep this brief," he said.
Students leaned forward.
"We know there has been uncertainty," he continued. "We know there are concerns about stability, legitimacy, and future pathways."
At least he said the words this time.
XH felt his stomach tighten.
"To address these concerns," the instructor continued, "we have brought in additional faculty support for the health track program."
Murmurs rippled.
"Effective immediately," he said, "there will be a change in how certain modules are led."
He gestured toward the side of the stage.
A new man stepped forward.
Older than most of the faculty. Calm. Hands folded. Expression steady.
"Dr. Kim," the instructor said. "Interim clinical lecturer."
The name caused a quiet ripple.
Some students looked relieved, seeing the title.
Others looked suspicious, seeing the word interim.
Dr. Kim stepped to the microphone.
He did not smile widely. He did not perform.
He simply looked at the crowd as if he understood exactly what they were.
Young. Exhausted. Afraid.
"I'm not here to lie to you," Dr. Kim said.
The room stilled.
"I'm not here to sugarcoat," he continued. "And I'm not here to waste your time."
XH felt something shift in his chest.
The man's voice had weight.
"Your campus is under pressure," Dr. Kim said. "Rumors, forums, external criticism. This is not new for private institutions, but the intensity is new."
June's eyes stayed fixed.
Kitty's fingers stopped tapping.
"You have two choices when pressure arrives," Dr. Kim continued. "You quit, or you learn how to endure it."
JP muttered under his breath, "He's serious."
Dr. Kim's gaze moved slowly across the room.
"I will not promise you comfort," he said. "I will promise you competence. If you stay, you will work. If you leave, leave with a plan. Do not leave in panic."
NS nodded slightly.
XH listened carefully, feeling a strange mixture of reassurance and dread.
Dr. Kim continued, voice even. "We are restructuring your academic schedule. Labs will be tightened. Tutorials will become more rigorous. There will be increased clinical skills practice. If you wanted an easy path, this is not it."
Some students shifted uncomfortably.
Others looked relieved.
Dr. Kim paused.
Then said a line that hit harder than anything else.
"Winner never quits," he said. "Quitter never wins."
The phrase settled into the room like a stone.
XH felt it in his bones, though he did not know why yet.
June's jaw tightened again, as if those words had challenged her personally.
Kitty's gaze lowered for a moment, then lifted again.
The instructor returned to the microphone, talking about logistics. Schedules. Office hours. Policy reminders.
But the room stayed focused on Dr. Kim.
He had done something in five minutes that the previous assembly had failed to do.
He had given fear a frame.
When the briefing ended, students poured out fast, conversations erupting.
JP turned to XH. "Okay. I don't know whether to feel comforted or threatened."
TZ laughed shortly. "Both."
NS's expression stayed serious. "He's legit."
XH nodded slowly. "He feels real."
They walked out into the corridor.
Kitty and NC passed them.
Kitty glanced at XH briefly.
This time, she did not look away immediately.
She held his gaze for one extra second.
It was not a confession.
It was acknowledgment.
June followed behind, walking alone.
XH hesitated, then moved toward her.
"June," he called softly.
She stopped.
When she turned, her expression was controlled, but her eyes were sharp.
"What?" she asked.
XH chose his words carefully. "How do you feel about Dr. Kim?"
June stared at him, then exhaled slowly. "He's the first person who sounded like he wasn't reading from a script."
XH nodded. "Yeah."
June's eyes narrowed slightly. "Why are you asking?"
XH hesitated. "Because everything's changing."
June's lips tightened. "Everything has been changing. You just started noticing."
The words were sharp, but not unfair.
XH swallowed. "Are you still considering transfer?"
June looked away for a moment, then back. "Yes."
His chest tightened.
June continued, voice quieter. "But now I'm considering what staying means too."
XH nodded slowly. "That matters."
June studied his face. "Does it matter enough for you to choose something?"
The question was direct.
XH's throat went dry.
He did not answer.
June's expression softened just slightly, then hardened again.
"I'm tired," she admitted. "Not of you. Of uncertainty."
Then she walked away.
XH stood still for a moment, watching her disappear into the corridor.
Then Kitty approached.
Not alone. NC was with her. But Kitty slowed near him, enough that she could speak without being overheard.
"Dr. Kim is intense," Kitty said quietly.
XH nodded. "Yeah."
Kitty's voice softened. "But he made me feel like we aren't completely abandoned."
XH looked at her. "Me too."
Kitty hesitated, then said, "People feel safer when someone speaks with certainty."
XH swallowed. "Yeah."
Kitty's eyes searched his face. "Do you think you can be that person too?"
The question was gentle.
But it was heavy.
XH looked at her, heart pounding.
"I'm trying," he said.
Kitty nodded slowly. "I believe you're trying."
She paused, then added, quieter, "Just don't let trying become another way of waiting."
NC gently touched Kitty's arm, signaling they should go.
Kitty gave XH one last look before leaving.
XH walked back to his dorm slowly, mind racing.
Dr. Kim's words echoed in his head.
Winner never quits.
Quitter never wins.
It applied to academics, yes.
But it also applied to courage.
To love.
To choices that could not be delayed forever.
That night, XH checked his phone.
A message from June.
June: my mom wants an answer by the end of the week.
His stomach dropped.
Then a message from Kitty.
Kitty: are you eating? don't skip meals when you're stressed.
Two messages.
Two kinds of pressure.
XH stared at the screen, heart pounding.
The campus was holding its breath.
And now, so was he.
Because the end of the week was close.
And the story was preparing to demand something he could no longer postpone.