A new bulletin was posted across the school the next morning:
> "Enhanced Surveillance Zones Activated. Emotional Monitoring Level: Red."
The hallway screens lit up with live warnings. Cameras rotated faster.
The temperature inside the school felt colder, though no one dared mention it.
---
In class, Ji-Woo sat perfectly still.
He knew what it meant.
It meant someone had crossed a line.
Someone like him.
---
A sharp knock on the classroom door.
A man in a black uniform stepped in — not a teacher.
He held a clipboard and a tablet.
> "Student Kang Min-Ho. You're requested for behavioral review. Now."
Every head turned. Even Ji-Woo.
Min-Ho stood slowly, eyes unreadable. He walked out without speaking.
---
The room fell into anxious silence.
Ji-Woo clenched his fists beneath the desk.
He knew what this was: they were digging.
Looking for proof.
Looking for a weakness.
---
At lunch, Ji-Woo skipped the cafeteria and slipped into the art room — empty during that period.
He sat on the floor behind the easels, pulling out the letter from his blazer.
He unfolded it again.
Ran his fingers over the words, like tracing the ghost of a voice.
> "I didn't know how to say it… so I never did."
---
He stayed there, still, until the door creaked open.
Someone walked in. Slow steps. Careful.
Min-Ho.
He didn't speak. He didn't look directly at Ji-Woo.
He just placed something on the table: a torn page from his school file.
Ji-Woo stared.
> "They asked about you," Min-Ho said, voice flat. "I said I don't remember anything."
Then he looked down at him.
> "Don't give them a reason to dig deeper."
And he left.
---
Ji-Woo didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
He knew that voice. That tone.
Min-Ho wasn't warning him.
> He was protecting him.
And that made it worse.
Because it meant that despite everything…
Min-Ho still felt something.