Chapter 1
Suji doesn't get attached. What would be the point? She'd relocate to a different school anyway.
School is a microorganism of society. Her primary objective upon transfer is to find her place, a secure middle. To get by, making friends is imperative. Numbers keep her safe. Being an outcast brings unwanted attention. If done right, friendship has many advantages: information gathering, recreation, assistance, and it's nice to talk to people once in a while.
She's skilled at a great many things, notably her ability to manipulate situations in her favor. She has the uncanny ability to read the room and the people in it. A mask is her weapon of choice.
It's how she secures a place for herself in the hierarchy, avoids any unnecessary drama, and maximizes the benefits of her connections without getting too close.
Feign a laugh here, mirror a contrived reaction there, make eye contact but not too much, they'll lower their guard down. She’d have on a disarming smile and curate the perfect set of words; they'll let her in. It's important to know her audience if she wants to steer them towards what she wants, whether logic or emotion would appeal more. She could imitate a tone of concern and plant logical reasons of doubt disguised as worry—or maybe fake tears would be more effective in exploiting sympathy. Those are only a few among many strategies to turn the situation in her favor.
But Suji isn't like that anymore. Not entirely. She's not above using her particular skill set for the greater good, but she doesn't use it for selfish gains or shallow connections any longer.
She's gotten attached. It's the first time she stopped her father from relocating. She wants to graduate from this particular school with these specific friends.
Every relocation, Suji would disappear from the chatrooms of her then former friends. She can't imagine doing that to the girls of Class 2-5. It doesn't matter if they're scattered across different classes now. They suffered together, grew together, and will graduate together.
Suji is well and truly attached, and it is with that reason that she uses her skills of persuasion once again. She's honed them into a mastery that she's confident in.
However, there comes a time when they prove useless, when she will be faced with a hopeless individual who won't listen to reason or be deterred by underhanded ploys.
That person Suji is faced with is Jaeun.
“We're looking for room 502,” Suji informs the nurse on the third floor who then points to the left wing. “Thank you.”
It isn't that she has trouble finding the room. It’s easy, considering the room numbers are in order. Her ability to stall is what's being tested. Every passing second risks Jaeun backing out, and that's what she’s anticipating.
Jaeun is a nervous wreck. Her hair is sticking out in places and her gaze is restless, darting from where they need to go to any possible exits.
Suji is tempted to use the restroom a second time since they got there. She sighs. A fake stomach ache can add an extra 10 minutes, but it's futile. She can see room 502 down the hall if she squints.
It has been 3 weeks since they last saw Harin and since then, Jaeun can't stop thinking of visiting her.
For the greater good, Suji has already tried many tactics to prevent this seemingly inevitable visit. Suji attempted to distract Jaeun with immersive outings and new experiences but ironically, it inspired her to try sharing those experiences with Harin in the future. She told Jaeun all the ways this visit could go wrong with the utmost concern. It made Jaeun even more determined because ‘Harin needs someone to care for her, too’, or so she says. Unfortunately, it appeared Jaeun wasn't going to forget Harin a second time.
She doesn't know what Jaeun is thinking. Visiting Harin? What could possibly go wrong? Everything. It’s Harin. Suji can't let Jaeun go alone in good conscience, nor could she make it easy for her.
Harin is sadistic and batshit crazy, but above all else, she is intelligent. Everything she did was deliberate. Suji knows why she had been chosen to be in Class 2-5. Her student record describes her as: low levels of interdependency and individualistic. She was perfect for Harin's plan. She had Suji start at the bottom of the pyramid and befriended Jaeun, and when she gave Suji a taste of Grade C, Harin offered her friendship and safety if she left Jaeun. She had hoped that Suji would betray her the same way Jaeun had betrayed Harin, through abandonment and later by forgetfulness. It would have been a masterful plan if she hadn't misread Suji. She’s opportunistic and self-serving but not at the expense of her control.
Suji tried to persuade Jaeun to forget about her. Harin didn't deserve any kindness from them. She plays the role of the victim so well, that she convinced herself that any of the suffering she caused was due to Jaeun. She doesn't want to own up to her actions and likely never will.
If it weren't for Jaeun's kindness, they would never have been able to put an end to the Pyramid Game. Suji can recognize that. However, that same kindness is a weakness. They shouldn't be here. There are no positives to visiting Harin. None that are moral, that is. Suji won't say it to Jaeun, but deep down, she wants to see Harin put in her place, not at the bottom of a pyramid—or helplessly desperate at the top. Suji shivers, remembering Harin's attempt at suicide. It’s life for the ordinary she wants to see Harin struggle with.
The fall from grace could be crushing enough to teach even a psychopath a lesson. Or she hoped.
“Come on.” Suji decides to take mercy on Jaeun. She grabs Jaeun's arm and drags her to room 502. It's unlikely they'll visit a second time in any case.
Suji thrusts open the door, not bothering to knock, and pushes Jaeun into the quarters.
“In you go.”
“Hey, I wasn't ready!”
It’s a large room with six beds. All of them were deserted except for one, farthest from the door, closest to the windows.
Harin sits leaned against the headboard of her bed, covers draped over her legs and her hands neatly folded atop. She’s facing away from them to gaze out the window, still as a photograph.
Despite the room being the same temperature as the rest of the hospital, it feels cooler somehow.
They wait. Their entrance wasn't subtle, yet Harin gives no indication that she noticed them.
Jaeun looks at Suji helplessly.
Suji returns a look that says ‘this was your idea’ and uses her eyes to point at Harin.
They walk further into the room and the closer they get the less picturesque the scene becomes. It isn't because of Harin's lack of makeup and fancy clothing. It's because of her hollow eyes.
When they stand at the foot of the bed, Harin continues to ignore them, likely her petty way of showing how unimportant they are. She knows it's intentional because, for a brief moment, Harin's gaze shifted to a point close to them then back to the window, inspecting her visitors through her peripherals.
The ignoring itself doesn't bother Suji. What does, is the effect it has on Jaeun who seems to be at a loss. Leave it to Harin to make a simple interaction as difficult as pulling teeth.
With nothing else to do, Suji studies her.
Harin has always looked like a porcelain doll, flawless and delicate. Even now when she’s stripped of her extravagance. She has glowing skin and glossy hair, not a strand out of line, and a straight posture. Against the backdrop of the hospital, she looks out of place, even with her unassuming hospital pajamas. She’s the picture of good health. It's annoying how perfect she always looks. The word ‘beauty’ seems to cling to her. Suji can recognize as much, like how she can recognize how it only applies itself to her outer appearance.
Suji feels conflicted between disappointment and an emotion she wants to crush underfoot. While Suji does wish for Harin's recovery and personal development, she also counted on seeing any physical signs of struggling—of retribution; dark circles, unkempt hair, and slouching with the weight of reality. The other part of her feels almost drawn to Harin from a revolting sense of admiration.
Harin has a resilience that few possess. She can pick herself back up like it's nothing—as if she hadn't lost everything.
Were the positions reversed, not even Suji is capable of that. She can easily move schools and start anew. Suji, too, is resilient. However, the situations aren't comparable. Relocating is what she's used to, and she has her father and a bright future.
It's demoralizing—the admiration Suji feels—because she's admiring Baek Harin, the cause of their suffering. The one who created a game that took something from everyone. Suji has barely opened up about it to her father, and her sleep hasn't been the same since. They're all struggling in the aftermath.
And yet, that appalling emotion persists, forgoing any and all reasoning.
Everyone is putting on a brave face, trying to get past it.
Harin makes it look easy.
When Suji really thinks about it, it's the bad qualities that seem to grant Harin the traits Suji finds appealing.
Harin can move forward because she doesn't feel remorse. She can think logically because the emotions of others don't reach her. She can do whatever it takes because she doesn't care who she steps on.
Harin is terrifying.
And, somehow, without Suji's permission, that admiration got twisted into something worse, something like interest.
“Hi, Harin, they said you weren't accepting visitors but you allowed us to?” Jaeun half says, half asks, her voice falling in on itself. “Um, we hope we're not bothering you. I know it's short notice.”
The slight turn of Harin's head and her attention bears down on them like a wave. It’s cold, heavy, and suffocating. Suji didn't expect how sudden it would feel. The emptiness in Harin's eyes recedes into something indecipherable. It reminds Suji of the ocean in the dead of night, dark and foreboding. It swallows up the stars and any who would venture into its vastness.
Harin regards them. Suji consciously keeps herself still to not show weakness. Then, Harin's lips morph into a soft, familiar smile. It makes Suji's skin crawl. It didn't reach her eyes then and it doesn't reach them now.
“Ah, Jaeun,” Harin drawls, smooth and velvety. “It's nice to see you. What brings you here?”
Her attention rests solely on Jaeun as if Suji isn't in the room. It’s meant to be demeaning. Suji knows Harin holds Jaeun with the same esteem she would a bug.
“I wanted to come check on you.”
“That's sweet of you.”
“Oh! We also got you a basket of fruit.” Jaeun unceremoniously lifts the basket in front of herself toward Harin but then realizes she is too far away to hand it off. “Sorry.” She walks forward, seeming to be torn between giving it to her directly or putting it on the nightstand.
“Thank you, I love fresh fruit.” Harin's smile widens. “Please set it on the bedside table."
“I'm glad you like them.”
“Everyone loves fruit.”
“That's why I thought it was the perfect gift. It's healthy and no one would turn it down.”
“It certainly is.”
“There's five varieties of fruit.”
“Mm, I see that.”
“Yeah…”
Harin was conversational yet short. It left a lot of room for the other person to take the lead, and if they didn't, they risked the conversation lulling.
It becomes obvious that Jaeun falls victim to this when a thick silence descends upon the room. Harin's smile becomes more genuine. She seems to revel in the silence, or rather the result it has. Jaeun is awkwardly fiddling with the long sleeves of her hoodie, looking smaller and smaller.
Suji wanted to call her out on her fakeness, but then something stops her and it isn't just because she knows Jaeun wouldn't have wanted that.
Harin's smile began to take on a pained quality, a straining at the edges, an emptiness just beneath, as if Jaeun's smallness had both amused and hurt her somehow. Then it's gone in the blink of an eye as the two begin to exchange casual conversation again.
Suji knows what she saw and it bewilders her. Did Harin feel regret? She must have read it wrong. It would be inconsistent with her character. However, characters can change. Is that not what she was hoping for when she came here today?
Suji fully expected Harin to scream at them for ruining her life at best and to get physical at worst. Instead, she seems to be playing the nice girl image she had when they first met. And that's part of the problem with that theory, Harin isn't acting like a person who regrets what they've done, and why would she? Psychopaths don't feel remorse.
“We were worried about you.”
That statement draws Suji's attention back. ‘We’ didn't worry about Harin, only Jaeun.
Harin's focus falls onto Suji for the first time since their introduction, eyes narrowing imperceptibly before flicking back. She must not believe Suji wants to be there. Good.
“Your concern for me is touching.”
“How is it here?” Jaeun asks, sitting down on the edge of the bed near Harin.
“It's okay. It's easy to get bored though.”
“Maybe I can bring board games the next time I visit?”
“That won't be necessary. I don't like those types of games. I prefer games that are more gratifying.” The lilt in her voice contrasts with the malevolent glimmer in her eyes. “How is school?”
Suji clenches her fist. Whatever that reaction was earlier, the emotion behind it wasn't regret. It didn't take long for Harin to disprove that. Suji feels stupid for considering it because after everything, Harin still doesn't feel an ounce of guilt. She should be apologizing, not acting like nothing happened.
It pisses her off.
“It's been good.” Jaeun nods to herself. “We're all studying for an upcoming test. It's been hectic.”
How can Jaeun ignore how Harin hasn't learned a damn thing?
“Everyone is thriving now that we don't have to deal with any unwanted people,” Suji says, making eye contact with Harin. As if coming to a realization, Suji makes her eyes blow comically wide, forming her mouth into an ‘o’. “I didn't mean you. I meant the teachers! They've been rotated out with new staffing. And Jaeun has made friends with half the school." At that, a shadow passes over Harin's features. It’s satisfying. “You look surprised. Did no one tell you? I thought at least someone from our class would have visited you.”
Jaeun gives a light smack to Suji's arm, accompanied by a look of betrayal.
‘What?’ Suji mouths. As a bonus, she brazenly plops down on the far corner of Harin's bed, close enough to be kicked. She can't see Harin doing it—not currently—but the thought would be a recurring temptation that would surely annoy her.
Suji smiles innocently at Harin.
The muscles in Harin's neck tenses and her smile twitches. “I'm happy for Jaeun. She's always been somewhat of a wallflower. You're actually the first ones to visit me. You're so generous, Suji. You used to be selfish, but you've grown so much. I was concerned that your personality wouldn't allow you to make any deep friendships. I'm proud of you.”
The attack on Suji's character along with the mock concern is irritating, but the hypocrisy is the cherry on top that has her biting back a blithe remark. She isn't proud of how she acted in the early days of the Pyramid Game or how she was compared to Harin.
Suji fakes a look of concern. “I hope you're not going through the same troubles. I don't think I told you this but people had compared my personality to yours. I wouldn't want you to end up alone and forgotten.”
There’s that absence of light in Harin’s eyes again. The one that could drown the sky.
A coldness emanates outward from Suji's chest, but she ignores it.
Jaeun cuts in. “Suji, you were able to grow, so could she.”
“I never said she couldn't grow or that she hadn't. Harin, you've learned your lesson, right?”
“Of course.” Harin is completely transfixed on Suji, still and unblinking. It’s like staring into an abyss. It wants to lure her to the edge and smother her. “I've learned many things that day. I won't be making the same mistakes. I can assure you, Suji.”
A threat.
Suji's mind conjures up the image of a burning building. Her heart begins to race, pumping ice into her bloodstream. A threat from Harin holds weight. If Suji isn't careful, she could find her house on fire while she slept, and Harin would make sure someone died this time. Adrenaline elicits a fight or flight response, and yet Suji is unmoving.
She's staring back into the inky darkness. It seems to pervade the room, enveloping anything it touches like smoke. Suji’s afraid of Harin's eyes but for some ridiculous reason, she also finds them arresting. It confuses Suji because she has experienced this before but never like this. They're deeper and darker, and it tugs at her. She can't look away. She thinks it's from the terror she feels, not because they're captivating in a way that's so Harin.
Suji doesn't miss the smug twitch of Harin's lips. It brings about a burning sensation that clashes with the chill in her veins.
Ever the optimist who believes in the best in people, Jaeun doesn't notice the threat or the silent exchange that followed. She takes out her phone. “Do you want to see the new clothes I got? Jaehyeong took me shopping. She said I should wear something other than hoodies.”
The next half hour was spent like this, more casual conversation. Jaeun seems to believe they are getting somewhere. She’s smiling more than Suji has ever seen. It’s painful to watch because Harin isn't the least endeared. The smiles that seemingly reach her eyes are off.
Suji is still shaken. The whole situation is putting her on edge. She takes pride in her ability to read people, but Harin is virtually indecipherable. She doesn't know why Harin is putting on this show. She suspects something sinister is at play. It would be an understatement to say that she was prone to revenge. She orchestrated a whole game and threw away her own life in the name of it.
If revenge is her angle, is Harin trying to get Jaeun's spirits up before she crushes it? It's the only explanation for her behavior. And it's been a recurring one at that. Still, this explanation doesn't seem right either.
She can never seem to understand Harin. Suji finds it laughable that she used to be compared to her. They're right but also unequivocally wrong.
Their most defining similarity is their selfishness. They both know who to target and how to get what they want. It’s by any means necessary, saying what others want to hear or through blackmail. They're both planners and pretenders. Natural actresses at heart, writing their scripts and the scripts of others.
Now, there’s a stark contrast between them. Suji has friends she wants to protect rather than mindless pawns for her to manipulate and discard. Life isn't a game, neither a chess board or a pyramid. Harin, on the other hand, is still bitter but there’s something more dangerous than before. It makes knowing her motives all the more pressing.
To be a good actress, they need to know their character and the characters of those around them to act accordingly. Misreading can be detrimental. It’s why Harin regrets allowing her into the class, and Suji fears making the same mistake.
She doesn't know how to act around Harin. Whereas Suji surrounds herself in the brightness of others, Harin can swallow the light around her like a black hole. It terrifies Suji because unlike before, it draws her in—and a tiny, twisted part of her is curious at its depths.
Suji decides to torture herself by tagging along with Jaeun on their second visit two days later. The last one didn't set her mind at ease and only added to the notion that Jaeun shouldn't go alone. Suji doesn't understand Harin. She needed to figure her out and sitting on the sidelines gives her ample opportunity to do so. She'll be able to gather the small details to create a bigger picture, like assembling a puzzle.
From their previous interactions, Suji is able to definitively deduce one of Harin's ticks.
Baek Harin is expressive with her hands. Not outwardly. She doesn't gesture. It's how her fingers twitch when she's annoyed, fidget when particularly so, or ball up when she's angry.
It's what happens when Jaeun brings up her friends or when Suji sits on the bed without asking. She'd take her jacket off and make herself at home. Harin dawned a polite mask but her hands would fidget with minuscule movements. They can be overlooked if not observed carefully.
Suji feels like she's also being analyzed by Harin. While Suji studied her, they'd occasionally lock eyes. It was fine at first, until Harin made it into a game. She'd stare directly at Suji while replying to Jaeun, as if talking to her. Suji doesn't look away. She hates losing.
“Do you have a favorite fruit?” Jaeun asked.
“Apples. They have a protective outer shell but are sweet and vulnerable on the inside.” Harin's smile picked up a sadistic quality that sent shivers down Suji's spine. “I just want to tear it open and bite into it.”
Suji's jaw tightened. It infuriated her that Harin knows how to piss her off and unsettle her at the same time. Where did she get off?
It happened many times. While the first few instances served to provoke her, the last was more disconcerting.
“Jaehyeong has been getting me into more K-pop groups. What kind of music are you into?”
“Classical. I especially love the piano.” Harin's piercing eyes clawed at Suji, burrowing into her. “It's sturdy and reliable. The keys can take a lot of playing. I wonder… How long would it take until it breaks? I find that so funny and entertaining.”
A pervasive dread flooded Suji's mind, urging her to remember why those words were familiar.
“I find that so funny and entertaining.”
She knew they left Harin's lips at one point. Vaguely, it was when Suji had realized how creepy Harin was, that she wasn't who she presented herself as. Then the memory dislodged itself and broke the surface. Those words were spoken when Suji confronted Harin with hypotheticals: What if you were the one who created the game? With what reason would you have made it?
Harin had looked at her with absolute certainty: because it was fun. It was then that Suji feared Harin. She was powerful and a psycho.
“The look in their eyes when they see a grade F. I bet they're clueless about it. I want to dig them out and show their eyes to them.” A gasp and a look of confoundment. “They won't be able to see without their eyes, will they? Then they will never know.” Harin smiled that angelic smile but it didn't seem so angelic anymore. “I find that so funny and entertaining.”
Threats and more threats, hidden behind pretty words for only Suji to interpret. Harin wants to let Suji know what she thinks of her and what she wants to do. How else is Suji supposed to read this? Suji is already planning on contingencies, like installing security cameras and securing all the escape routes in her house. None can be too careful.
Anyone who doesn't know Baek Harin will think Suji is paranoid. Harin is a psycho but no longer powerful. She has no one to help her, no fake friends or teachers to boss around. Who will point her to where Suji lives? Give her a lighter or any other weapon? She’s confined to a psychiatric hospital. But Suji knows none of that matters. Logic doesn't apply to Harin. No matter the price, she will find a way.
While Jaeun is the most kind and Suji the most adaptable, Harin exceeds in being the most determined. Whether Suji acknowledged it or not, it's something she always admired about Harin, but it's also something to fear.
“I tried wearing pink and other bright colors but it didn't look right. Most of the clothes I ended up buying are black, white, or gray.” Jaeun picks at the hem of her black hoodie, a look of insecurity shining through.
Harin reaches out a hand and catches Jaeun's nervous hand movements. That’s the first intimate gesture Suji has seen between them. It’s wrong—Harin’s incapable of feeling affection. “You're not used to seeing yourself outside of those colors. It will take time to get used to.”
Jaeun sat there slack-jawed as if Harin had dragged a gift from the heavens. It makes Suji want to scoff. “Harin…” She smiles with unadulterated joy. “I'll buy colorful clothing next time and show you.”
Harin doesn't say anything and only continues to smile. It's like a painting, pretty and entrancing, but one-dimensional and static. There's an uneven brush stroke across the canvas—that hollowness again—at the mention of a next time.
Suji is still no closer to parsing the meaning behind it, but her theory about Harin seeking revenge seems farther away.
“There was another reason I came here,” Jaeun says hesitantly. Her other hand comes up, sandwiching Harin's dainty hand between hers.
Harin hums. “Go ahead.”
“It's abrupt but I don't know how else to bring it up. I… I wanted to apologize. I'm sorry things ended this way.”
Harin becomes rigidly still. For a long moment, the only movement that came from Harin is the twitching of her eye, then the hand that's in her lap clenches. “It doesn't matter.”
Suji can't tell if she's referring to the past or Jaeun's apology, but one thing is clear.
She's angry.
Baek Harin's most distinguishing feature is her eyes.
Everything about her is flawless. She's a work of art, chiseled from marble. A sharp jawline, a sculpted nose, polished lips, and an artistic contradiction. She has the face of an angel but there's an unmistakable coldness to her.
It's her eyes.
They're completely devoid of any warmth. She can pretend with soft smiles and kind tones but she could never hide it.
That coldness is a reflection of… Suji didn't know what. It's what happened when she looked into Harin's dark eyes and she could feel this inexplicable pull. There weren't any words in the dictionary to define what it was but there were words that could vaguely describe it. “Bottomless” could work, so could “horrific” and “mesmerizing.”
On the third visit, Harin's eyes take on a new level of coldness. Suji thinks this might be their last visit. Harin is clearly still mad and what Jaeun is about to do next will make it worse.
She told Jaeun it's a bad idea. Suji wishes she'd use her head instead of her heart, but she supposed that's Jaeun's charm. All she can do is be there for her.
“I got something for you.” Jaeun stands up from the bed. She fishes out a small, elegant box from her jacket pocket and attempts to hand it to Harin, but she only stares at it, making no move to take it. Jaeun's arm hangs in the air for an inordinate amount of time.
“What is that?” Harin finally asks.
“Oh, it's a—it's better if I show you.” Jaeun opens the box and takes out a necklace. Dangling on a silver chain is a beautiful diamond. Despite not having any jewelry herself, Jaeun decided to use her years worth of savings for Harin. “I wasn't able to give you something when we were younger. I always regretted not getting you a gift.”
Something in the atmosphere seemed to shift at that statement. Suji can see the walls around Harin growing impossibly taller.
Harin opens her palm, and Jaeun eagerly hands her the necklace. Harin inspects it, prodding it with her finger.
“It's expensive. This must make you feel better.”
“What do you mean?” Jaeun asks.
Harin tilts her palm and the necklace clatters to the floor. “You think this is enough?”
“I—I didn't mean anything by it. I wasn't doing it so you would forgive me.”
“You shamelessly apologize and you're telling me this isn't related?” Harin's lips draw back, baring her teeth. “You don't deserve my forgiveness.”
“You don't have to forgive me.” Jaeun cranes her head mournfully. “But I thought you deserved an apology.”
“I lost my name, my home, my family. I lost everything. Let me guess, you forgave yourself for that, too?”
“Soeun, I just wanted the Pyramid Game to stop. A lot of people were getting hurt. I never wanted you to get abandoned again.”
“You didn't?” Harin echoes, eyes unfocused. “If you hadn't forgotten me like I'm—like I'm some—" Her voice cuts off abruptly. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have made the Pyramid Game, then I wouldn't have ended up here.”
Jaeun’s shoulders curl into herself, and Suji fears that Jaeun will give in again.
It's becoming a repeat of their last argument. Harin still blames Jaeun for her behavior and continues to ignore the fact that she bullied people before meeting Jaeun again.
Why won't she own up to it?
Harin hasn't learned a single thing and Jaeun shouldn't have to put up with this.
Suji is about to cut in when Jaeun speaks up.
“That's not true.”
“What? What did you say?” The ends of Harin's hair are shaking with barely concealed rage.
“You didn't have to make the Pyramid Game.” Jaeun squares her shoulders. “I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry I didn't apologize. And I'm sorry I forgot about you. I made a lot of mistakes, but you can't blame me for the things that you did. Not anymore.”
“Get out.”
“Soeun—”
“I SAID GET OUT,” Harin shrieks. The room is deathly quiet except for her erratic breathing. She takes a deep breath, reigning herself in with alarming speed. “Why did you come, Jaeun?”
Jaeun grabs at her skirt, desperation evident in the whitening of her knuckles. “Because I'm worried about you. I want to fix this.”
“I don't.”
“Soeun, please. I thought we were getting along.”
“You think I enjoyed hearing you talk about your dumb clothes and your stupid friends?” Harin sneers. “This empty room is more interesting. It's no wonder no one cared to stick their neck out for you.”
Hurt crosses Jaeun's features. Whatever friendly rapport they built in the past few days were decimated. Harin can't let go of the past. She’s still hurting from it and lashing out. She doesn't need to forgive Jaeun, but she shouldn't disrespect her. Being a victim does not justify treating others poorly.
Suji can't stay on the sidelines any longer.
“I risked my position in the pyramid to help her.” Suji glares. “She has genuine friends now who would do the same.”
“Shut up. You were only trying to save yourself. Quit acting like you weren’t selfish.”
Suji grits her teeth. “I'm not so selfish that I dug my own grave and blamed it on others like a pathetic low-life.”
Harin's eyes are dilated and gleaming feverishly. They have the same maddening intensity as the day she set Haneul House on fire. She isn't afraid to forfeit her own life or theirs. Only this time, there’s a deadness to it. “Don't test me, you already have an idea of how far I'm willing to go. I have less to lose than I did then.”
The primal darkness in Harin's eyes is all-consuming. It takes up residence in the room, thickening with each passing second, getting heavier and heavier. The walls seem to close in and Suji stops breathing. She can't tear her eyes away.
“What do you want me to do?” Jaeun pleads. “We could talk about whatever you want next time. I won't mention my clothes or friends if it makes you uncomfortable.”
Harin can't look away from Suji either. Dangerous and incalculable. It freezes Suji with the force of it, chilling her with the promises of misery and suffering. Then Harin’s depthless eyes shift to Jaeun.
Suji takes in a shaky inhale, hating the effect Harin has on her. It isn't just her gaze that overwhelms her—it’s everything about Harin. It’s the weight of Harin's words that held deadly threats. It’s her overbearing presence that expands and presses down on them, uncaring if they suffocate. It’s her angelic smile that assured friendship and goodwill, all the while hiding the ever-present cruelty and malice. But, most of all, it’s what Suji can't comprehend. It both unnerves her and sucks her in.
“I don't want to see you again. Nothing good has come from you,” Harin says, flat and unfeeling.
Jaeun slumps over, the fight deflating out of her. “If that's what you want.” She stands up. With dragging steps, Jaeun reaches the door. She holds the handle but doesn't open it, as if hoping Harin would stop her.
“Wait.”
She immediately lets go of the door handle and turns, eyes watery. “Yeah?”
“Take the necklace with you.”
“Oh…”
Jaeun does as told and opens the door to leave, looking back one last time, pleadingly. “Goodbye, Soeun.”
Harin says nothing.
Jaeun leaves without another word.
It isn't until they're alone that Suji realizes she should follow Jaeun. She rushes to the door, disconcerted by the loudness of her own steps.
Once the door is open, something in her wills her to look back.
Harin is staring at the floor with that pained, vacant expression again, and it seems to be in full now, unhidden by a strained smile. Since they started visiting, it's always been at the back of Suji's mind, springing forth unanswered questions.
Suji leaves with quickness in her strides. She wanted to catch up to Jaeun and distance herself from the room.
She couldn't find Jaeun on her way out but she does receive a text that she’s okay and an apology for leaving without her.
Suji takes the bus home and it's oddly colder than usual.
Harin perplexes her. Refusing to ever see Jaeun again is completely out of character. Suji should be happy that Harin is out of their lives for good but she still feels troubled.
Was her goal really revenge against Jaeun? Suji didn't sense that intent when Harin let Jaeun go, or anytime during these visits as a whole. So, why did she put on that show only to destroy it?
She can't tell if Harin did or didn't want Jaeun to go.
As Suji reaches her doorstep, shivering uncontrollably, she finally takes stock of the fact that she doesn't have her jacket.
Suji had forgotten her jacket on Harin's bed. She remembers seeing it when she looked back but it hadn't registered.
Now she is shivering for completely different reasons.
Today was horrendous.
Suji couldn't sleep last night and she was freezing the whole day. Everyone wore their jackets and coats inside the school except her. It didn't help that her friends were bombarding her with questions about Jaeun, especially Jaehyeong and Jiae. They were obsessed.
Jaeun didn't show up to school. It was an unspoken rule not to talk about Harin to anyone but now that it's done with, was Suji still supposed to hide how they've been visiting Harin? Or could she disclose it?
She settled for half truths. Suji told them that Jaeun had been feeling under the weather yesterday and had texted her this morning saying she would be back tomorrow. Then the endless speculation began because Jaeun doesn't miss school even when she's sick.
It was a whole shit show.
Suji isn't looking forward to going back to the psychiatric hospital but she does it anyway.
Honestly, she doesn't care about the jacket, she can buy a new one, but she does care about not letting Harin deter her from any kind of premises. She can retrieve it, no problem.
She first checks the lost and found but finds nothing. Suji groans inwardly. Harin still has it.
After checking in, Suji finds room 502 and enters with the mindset of get-in-and get-out.
Harin is sitting comfortably in her bed reading a book, a relaxed ease in her posture that wasn't there yesterday or the days before it.
It utterly unfair how great of a day she's having in comparison to Jaeun and herself. For some reason, Suji thought Harin might share in having a bad day.
Harin's shortened hair brushes her shoulders as she turns her head, lips quirking at the edges in an almost-smile. “You look cold.”
She definitely has it.
Suji surveys the room. When she sees that her jacket is nowhere in sight, her attention eventually settles back on Harin whose returned to reading the book in her lap.
“I want my jacket back.”
Flipping to the next page, Harin continues to read, while Suji stands there like an idiot, letting an entire minute of silence pass.
Again with the ignoring.
Suji walks further into the room and sits on the edge of the bed but it was more of a calculated fall. The impact causes her to bounce in place and so does Harin, but it didn't have its desired effect. She lets out an amused hum at Suji's poor attempt at irritating her.
“I'm not in the mood for this. Yesterday was enough.”
Harin flips a page.
Frustrated, Suji waits because what else is she supposed to do? She impatiently sits there and watches Harin's eyes scan the pages, moving down the lines in quick succession.
Harin reads fast, she notes.
She notes a lot of things because she's bored and irritated. Like, how inhumanly still Harin is when she's focused. And, how that same focus doesn't waver as her eyes move at an unrelenting pace. Or, how she's left-handed when flipping pages.
None of these observations matter but strangely, Suji feels less bored and a little less angry.
Then, Harin closes her book, presumably getting to a good stopping point, and sets it on the nightstand. She then plucks an apple from the fruit basket, inspecting it. “You're not happy? I thought this was what you wanted.”
Confused, Suji thinks for a moment and realizes Harin is responding to Suji's previous statement about her bad mood from yesterday's events.
Suji's anger flares.
“This is between the two of you. Don't bring me into this.”
“Then why are you mad? You act like you haven't severed connections before. I didn't take you for a hypocrite, Suji.”
It struck a nerve, being called a hypocrite by the biggest one of them all, but her mind is clear enough to know she should take this opportunity to get Harin's motive out of her.
“It's your reasoning that disgusts me. You did it because it would hurt her, you psychopath,” Suji says, baiting Harin to correct her.
An authentic smile curls at Harin's lips. It's more unsettling than the fake ones. She leans back more comfortably against her pillows, still fixated on the apple in her hand. “Is that all?”
Suji draws in a long inhale. What does she mean, is that all?
“You're a pathetic asshole for giving Jaeun false hope.” Suji presses further. “Your whole existence seems to revolve around bringing her misery. Get a life.”
Unbothered, Harin begins rotating the apple, examining it from all sides. “Is that the best you can do?”
Suji squints her eyes. She knows what Harin is doing. Her life must be boring as hell.
“What is wrong with you, is this your idea of fun?”
“I enjoy seeing you get all worked up.” She finally looks at Suji, gesturing with her chin. “Go on.”
The nerve of this bitch. Suji sticks up her middle finger, a deeper insult on her tongue. The truth of reality always hurts most, especially when it's as far a fall as Harin took, from everything to nothing. “Look at where you are, Harin. You're completely powerless and alone. You could have focused on yourself, but instead, you threw it all away for something as meaningless as revenge. You did this to yourself. But, you already know that deep down, right?”
Turning the apple, Harin bites into it with a sickeningly loud crunch. When she pulls it away from her face, juice cascades past her left lip and down her chin. It momentarily distracts Suji. Harin takes her time, slowly chewing, her penetrating gaze never leaving Suji. It's sharp and heavy, not dissimilar to being held down by a knife to the throat.
“Powerless? You haven't learned.” Harin's voice drops to a deeper quality, erring on the edge of danger.
Suji tries to ignore the building clamminess of her palms, the urge to look away, and how Harin licks her lips, leaving a glossy sheen behind.
Knowing she was able to provoke Harin, it gives her an idea, a terrible one.
Suji wants to know the reasons behind Harin's behavior. She really wants to know. She needs to. It's what kept her up last night.
Originally, she planned to retrieve her jacket and leave, but now she has a plan—to use Harin's hubris against her.
Harin wipes away the juice dripping down her chin with an upward drag of her thumb, slow and deliberate. When her thumb meets her lips, her tongue licks it clean and it almost draws Suji's mind to a blank. She doesn't realize she’s tracking the motion until she's looking back into Harin's burning eyes.
“I don't believe you can manipulate your way out of this,” Suji says, her words coming out with less conviction than intended.
Harin's perfect teeth began to peek out between her rose colored lips.
Suji tells herself that her choice of words were stupid, and that's why it was badly delivered. She doesn't want to acknowledge that it isn't the statement itself that bothers her.
“I'm good at manipulation. People are simple.” Harin takes another obnoxiously noisy bite of her apple, somehow louder than the last. It’s like the crunch of bones.
It was then that Suji remembers the apple analogy.
“Apples. They have a protective outer shell but are sweet and vulnerable on the inside. I just want to tear it open and bite into it.”
She is the apple. The realization must have shown on her face because the delighted glint in Harin's eyes is evident.
Suji straightens her posture. “You were only able to manipulate others because of your family.”
“I could prove it.”
There it was. Harin took the bait. Suji can't simply ask about Harin’s motives. If she knows that's what Suji is going for, she will hold it over her head. Harin isn't the type to share her feelings, not unless she has a sense of power and nothing to lose. It's those two things that drove her to reveal herself at Haneul House. With one requirement already fulfilled, next she'll give Harin the reins, and Suji will prod it out of her while she's high on her power trip. It doesn't bother Suji to allow Harin this because Suji is the one who's really in control.
Harin is voluntarily taking the first step into her plan. How could she say no? But she shouldn't seem too eager.
Suji creases her brows in a show of silent skepticism, a challenge.
“Stand up,” Harin commands.
When Suji doesn't do anything, Harin sets her apple on the nightstand and brushes aside her blankets, getting up. With the fluidity of a cat, she starts walking slowly around the bed. Suji turns her head, following her movements. The tips of Harin's fingers glide across the bed covers, creating ripples. Then the footboard, from one end to the other with agonizingly snail-like slowness. It builds anxiety bit by bit, and Suji has no doubt that's her intention. All at once, Harin towers over her, stopping a foot between their knees. Suji has to crane her neck upward. She tenses.
Harin's features are smooth and impassive. A strand of hair comes loose from behind her ear, curtaining part of her eye. She doesn't push it back, only stands there asserting herself in Suji's space. It's domineering, oppressive, and holds the pleasant scent of something sweet.
The only way to relieve the distressing situation is by shrinking further into the bed or standing. Both options are unfavorable, one would have her thrust into the role of a frightened little girl and the other would bring them closer.
Suji stands, neither breaking eye contact. From this close—stiflingly so—Suji can see her reflection in Harin's dark brown eyes and the miniscule movements they made, looking between Suji's eyes, left-right, left-right. They slowly travel down her nose, stopping at her lips, lingering there for what felt like forever, then meeting her gaze again.
Suji's heart stutters, and she blinks a few times, unsure if she imagined it or not. Without thinking, she takes a step to the side, putting distance between them but also cornering herself between Harin and the wall.
Harin takes a confident step forward and Suji wills herself to stand still, or she risks hitting the wall behind her. Then she'd really be cornered.
"I’m going to need you to close your eyes.”
“What?” Suji doesn't bother hiding her disbelief. “No.”
“Afraid?”
“I'm not stupid.”
“Hmm, what do you think I would do?”
Suji doesn't know. She ignores the alarms going off in her head that tell her how bad of an idea this is. Harin is unpredictable. But so far, the plan can still run smoothly. She doesn't need her sight to prod.
“I'll do it.”
Harin tilts her head, an expression between apathy and something inexplicable, ominous. The hairs at the nape of Suji's neck stand on end.
“Keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them. Don’t move, no matter what you feel.”
That means Harin is going to touch Suji. The stakes have raised into unsafe territories. Allowing Harin to touch her is stretching the boundaries of her plan.
The reward outweighs the risk. She needs to focus on that.
“Okay.” Reluctance halts her for a moment before she shuts her eyelids.
There's a small huff, a silent laugh.
It's quiet for a long moment.
Harin doesn't move and nor does she. The apprehension of waiting and not knowing is overwhelming.
For the sake of her own sanity, Suji redirects her focus to her other senses. She can hear the din in the halls, the chirping of birds through the open window, and the beating of her own heart, all in high definition. She smells the sterilization of the hospital as well as that sweet scent.
Harin smells like peaches, Suji belatedly realizes. It's nice. She vaguely recalls seeing a bottle of lotion of the same fragrance on Harin's nightstand.
Suddenly, Suji feels a puff of air on her cheek, the prickle of hair, then a whisper in her ear. It tickles her senses. “I didn't expect you to agree so readily.”
Without warning, Harin jabs a finger between Suji's collarbones, at the base of her neck, causing her to flinch. A brief choking sensation arises from where Harin had jabbed her. Suji tries to keep herself from reacting by tensing her muscles.
Harin drags a featherlight finger along Suji's left clavicle, excruciatingly slow. It sends tingles throughout that makes her want to squirm.
Suji bites her lip, already regretting this. She knows she's letting Harin lead. Harin wants to prove that she can manipulate others without the need of money or influence, but how does this prove any of that?
Whatever, Suji will get the answers to her questions.
“You're going to let Jaeun go, just like that?” Suji asks nonchalantly, an easy yet necessary question.
“Would you believe me if I said yes?” Harin's finger draws calming circles on Suji’s shoulder. With her sight gone, the sensation feels so much more intense. It's all she can focus on, as if the world has been reduced to only Harin and herself. Harin's touch trails along her shoulder, then her back, the movement stopping at the ridge of her spine. Suji shivers when Harin brushes her hair to the side with an airiness that leaves her feeling it even after the fact. “Why aren't you answering?”
The breath on the back of Suji's neck has her pulse rising. She's very aware that Harin is close behind her. There isn't much room between Suji and the wall. She can feel blood rushing into her ears.
“No. I don't believe you.” She doesn't know what to believe.
Harin's finger digs into Suji's shoulder blade, and she forces herself not to wince. It burns a painful line into her skin as Harin circles Suji to the front, withdrawing her hand again.
“Why did you cut off Jaeun? Aren't you lonely?”
“I'm not going to be Jaeun's friends to make her feel better.”
“Jaeun was doing it because she cares about you. Would you still have—”
Fingers graze the sides of Suji's throat, ending in a grip. It tightens, the pressure strengthening—a warning—then it's gone.
Breathless and alarmed, Suji can hear her own breathing, and she's sure Harin can, too. She feels that same hand gently tucking a stray hair behind Suji's ear. The contrast between the affectionate gesture and the warning has her inwardly reeling.
What the fuck was that?
Suji is becoming light-headed from the outcry of a dozen different emotions. It's difficult to make out from all the noise, but there is one that stands above the rest, warning her to cut her losses and put an end to the situation; dread.
“You're trembling again, Suji.” There's a hint of a smile in her voice.
“I'm not.”
A hand lands on Suji's shoulder. This time she does flinch, earning a low chuckle from Harin. Her hand slides down Suji's arm soothingly, leaving a trail of goosebumps on her skin past her short sleeve. Harin's thumb rests at her pressure point for a moment before sliding downward to embrace Suji's hand. It's hot against her skin, and soft with a gentleness that's so Harin yet not. Suji can't comprehend the loss she feels when Harin pulls away.
“You are.” When Suji doesn't respond, Harin continues, “Your heart is racing, your breathing is fast, and your hand is shaking.”
Harin's voice rubs Suji the wrong way. Her tone is low and bursting with ecstatic satisfaction.
“Do you know why you lost?” Suji doesn't bother waiting for a response, not when she's being made to stand there and yield to whatever happens next like a dog. “You can't read people. Did you seriously believe the Pyramid Game would last forever? That no one would challenge you? You thought everyone would continue to lick your shoes because you think you're someone. They only did that because of your family and what they can provide. You're nothing special. You're just—”
Suji's head snaps to the side with a resounding clap, a low pitched whine escapes her throat as her legs sway. Suji almost opens her eyes but she refuses to give Harin the satisfaction. She wants to watch Suji break. She won't, so she rights herself. She's the one in control here.
“Is that the best you can do?” Suji mimics Harin's earlier words with condescension.
Fingers claw at her neck, encircling. Suji is thrust into the wall. The back of her head explodes with pain, but it doesn't compare to the searing grip around her neck, how she struggles to breathe.
“The sight of you makes me want to tear your throat out.” Harin's vice-like grip tightens painfully, and Suji gives. A haze of pain permeates, inebriating.
She can feel the heat between them, the restlessness, the precarious nature of Harin's restraint—move and it grows tighter. Suji stays still, and she feels absolutely everything because that's all she's being allowed. Suji's overwhelmed. Harin overwhelms her. She always did.
She thinks if she opens her eyes, she'll be able to see Harin's expression. She wonders what it looks like. She's always hiding behind a mask, but it's times like these that color comes to her in some manner. She imagines Harin's features being flat with indifference but her dark eyes revealing what's truly beneath it, a brutalizing exhilaration. They're looking down at Suji, watching her every response. Always observing, always planning, always in control.
Suji's face burns. She thinks it's from the slap or the lack of oxygen, but something at the back of her mind tells her it's something else completely. Something she buries immediately.
Harin and her sadistic bullshit can fuck off.
“Fuck you.” Suji growls, heart hammering, chest heaving.
Harin yanks her by the neck and slams her back into the wall, thoroughly disorienting Suji.
“God, you're a fucking brat.” At Suji's words, Harin's grip grows impossibly tighter and black spots begin to form behind her eyes.
Her knees pathetically shake beneath her as the panic sets in. She barely keeps upright. She needs to push Harin away from her—it's gone too far—but her arms won't budge.
Then Harin loosens her hold, air flooding Suji's lungs with relief, a rush of thoughts bursting and reverberating off the walls of her mind.
The situation is supposed to be under Suji's control. She's allowing Harin to take the lead, to play into her plan, but now she's not so sure. She can barely think with her thoughts clashing into one another, and any coherency isn't being channeled into strategic questions.
She needs to stop this. However, all notion of that fly out the window when she feels puffs of hot air against her lips.
Breaths becoming shallower, all Suji's thoughts seem to fall into a linear line about how unbearably close Harin is, how the sweltering heat between them grows hotter. She hadn't imagined it—when Harin looked at her lips. It's distressing because she feels anticipation for reasons beyond any given logic.
Suji's lips part. There wasn't much thought given to the action.
“Careful,” Harin whispers darkly, their breaths intermingling. The hand around Suji's throat tenderly slides up her neck and onto her cheek, right where she had been slapped. It ignites a fire beneath Suji's skin. Scorching heat spreads down her neck, into her chest, her abdomen—everywhere. Her whole body is on fire.
Still, Suji can't admit to herself what exactly it is she's anticipating. An anticipation so vehement, she's filled with this infuriating eagerness that blinds her rationality.
“You know what the best part of this little game is?” Harin asks, voice deep with a fanatic triumph shamelessly bleeding through. Her thumb gently brushes Suji’s lower lip, and she shudders as something stirs within her. “Knowing how much power I have over you. For you to still be here, letting me do this to you…” Then, Harin’s hand retracts from Suji's face. There's a coldness that replaces the air between them and she knows Harin backed away from her completely. She ignores the sinking feeling in her stomach because in what world would she be disappointed about this? “You get it, don't you, Suji?”
She does. She's not a naive participant. She's aware—and that's the problem.
Suji let this happen.
She first allowed this for information, and when it became clear she'll gain nothing more, Suji still let it continue.
She still doesn't know Harin’s motives.
Suji took a risk and received little to no reward, only confusion and many other trying emotions.
Harin, however, was able to prove what she wanted.
She can manipulate people without a family backing.
The humiliation Suji feels is immeasurable, at the absolute failure and the begrudging respect that stroke the flames in her chest.
Whatever she feels inside should've been doused cold but it isn't, and it makes her feel sick on top of it.
It's all wrong.
Suji opens her eyes, immediately stepping forward and clutching Harin's collar in a steel grip. She jerks Harin back and shoves her into the wall, switching their previous positions.
Harin just stands there, locked in place, examining her with a cool-headedness Suji envies at this moment.
Suji is a mess.
She's overheating and panting with harsh, uneven breaths, dizzy from guilt and shame and Harin.
Harin is composed as if she hadn't completely destroyed Suji mere moments ago, and there's an unmistakable elation to her because she knows that she did. It's in the slight raise of her brows, the quiver of her lips, and the conceited way she looks over Suji like she has accomplished something—like she's won.
There's color in Harin's cheeks, and she looks more alive than Suji's seen her these past visits.
It makes Suji's stomach twist in a way that's never happened before, not like this, not to someone like Harin. She can't explain it—any of it. Not without acknowledging what it meant, and she can't do that, not here, not now.
“This was a mistake.” Suji lets go of Harin's collar and shakily leaves the room.
It's too much. This isn't her. The visit did something to her head.
The whole way home, she was shivering. She attributed it to the horrific ramifications of her recent visit. It's once she's inside and it significantly lessened that she realizes she had forgotten her jacket, twice now. It thoroughly slipped her mind.
She has to visit Harin again.
Suji tries not to think about how it elicits more dread than before, and how she's betrayed by a small hint of excitement this time.