Sua's endless suffering
There is not a single day of peace for Sua since Ivan and Till broke up. She had been helping Mizi bake when Ivan had stormed into the house, nearly tearing the front door off its hinges, and slammed his bedroom door so hard that one of the hallway picture frames crashed to the floor. The dramatic bitch.
Concerned (but mostly curious), she had texted Till to ask what the hell happened. She got a single reply:
"We broke up."
And that was it.
Sua had stared at the screen for a full five minutes, blinking in disbelief. Those two? Breaking up? Unthinkable. The disgustingly clingy duo had been inseparable for what felt like forever. Till, ever-patient, had tolerated Ivan's insufferable teasing, dramatics, and general freaky behavior for years. Sua had assumed he had some sort of divine endurance for it.
Apparently not.
"Babe, stop glaring at your phone like it insulted your ancestors," Mizi had said at the time, pressing a fresh cookie to Sua’s lips. "Eat. Violence later."
Wise words, as always.
A few days later, Sua finds herself standing over Ivan, who is sprawled on the living room couch like a corpse, dramatically rolling and groaning as if in the throes of death.
Sua, arms crossed, is contemplating how much jail time she’d get for homicide.
"C’mon, fuck off so I can watch the new episode of Love is War," she huffs, nudging him with her foot.
Bad decision. Ivan is built like a goddamn rock and doesn’t budge an inch.
"Ivan, you stupid ass, just because your love story is trash doesn’t mean you can ruin my Saturday movie night."
"Suuuaaa, you don’t understanddddddd," Ivan whines, curling up tighter, like a particularly annoying cat hogging the furniture. "Till hates me now, doesn’t he? He completely ignored me in class todayyy..."
Sua stares at him blankly. "Did I ask? Do I care?" She leans down and lowers her voice to a whisper. "No. Now get to your room and cry a river there before I call the cops."
Ivan gasps, "You wouldn’t."
She tilts her head. "Wouldn’t I?"
Ivan groans louder, rolling over dramatically. "I want my bae Till backkkkkkkk."
Sua briefly entertained the thought of grabbing the nearest lamp and smashing it over his head. It was such an alluring idea. Bonk. Instant peace. But then she remembered how hard it would be to scrub blood out of the couch. Not worth it.
She lets out an exhausted sigh. "Then maybe stop moping and actually do something about it? I dunno, maybe talk to him like a normal person instead of throwing yourself around like a pathetic little rat?"
Ivan lets out a dramatic wail and flops off the couch.
Sua immediately takes his vacated spot, curls up with the remote, and sighs contentedly. "Perfect. Now stay there and be my footrest."
"Yeouch—SUUUAAA!"
She kicked him lightly in the ribs. "Shut up. The episode’s starting."
Finally. Peace.
(For now.)
The next day in class, Mizi is desperately trying to get Ivan and Till to talk. It’s not working.
Sua watches from the sidelines, regretting every single choice that led her to this moment. Her class doesn’t even have afternoon lessons today. The only reason she’s here is because Mizi had asked really cutely, batting her eyelashes and pulling out the softest "Pleaaase, Sua?" known to mankind.
And Sua, being the hopeless girlfriend that she is, had agreed.
Big mistake.
If you think Ivan would talk to Till easily—
No.
Instead of even looking in Till’s direction, Ivan is hyper-focused on his literature assignment, his hand moving at an ungodly speed, practically a blur. He looks like he’s possessed, writing as if he’s the main character of a shonen anime in a desperate exam arc. The speed at which he flips pages is unnatural.
His eyes completely zoned out. He ignored everything Mizi said. Everything.
Not even Mizi’s angelic, mesmerizing voice—a voice that should be gospel to everyone’s ears—could break through his concentration.
Till, on the other hand, is listening. Or, well, was listening. That is, until Mizi dares to mention Ivan’s name. Then, suddenly, he becomes deaf. Selective hearing to the max. The moment the name "Ivan" drops, Till looks off into the distance, contemplative, like a brooding protagonist in a coming-of-age drama.
When Ivan finishes his twenty-first literature assignment and Till ignores Ivan’s name for the fifty-eighth time, Mizi finally gives up.
Sua sighs.
It would be so refreshing if she could just grab her little brother’s head and slam it into the table, watch the ink of his speedrun assignments smudge under his blood—
Wait. No. Mizi would be traumatized. Probably.
She sighs again and pulls out her phone, scrolling mindlessly through TikTok. Stupid people posting stupid things. Nothing even half as entertaining as having Mizi in her life.
Then, salvation arrives.
One of Mizi’s clubmates approaches, asking for help with something. And, being the kind, wonderful person that she is, Mizi nods and leaves the table.
Perfect opportunity.
"Hey, Ivan."
Ivan lifts his head at the sound of Sua’s voice—because, unlike Mizi, Sua would never try to force him to talk to Till. Or so he thinks.
The second their eyes meet, Sua raises her hand and swings.
Ivan dodges, barely, jerking backward as Sua’s palm nearly slams his head into the desk.
"SUA????"
Sua clicks her tongue. "Tch. Unlucky day. The color I wanna see is red."
Ivan scrambles back, clutching his head protectively. "ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?!"
"Trying, yes. Succeeding? Unfortunately, no."
Till, despite himself, snorts.
Sua smirks. Progress.
Sua barely reopens Tiktok before Mizi walks back into the class, her eyes darting from Sua—who is scrolling lazily on her phone—to Ivan, who is still clutching his head like someone just threw a brick on him.
"What happened?" Mizi smiles, tilting her head as she walks over.
No. Mizi's innocent soul shouldn’t know about Sua’s murder attempt earlier.
"Oh, Ivan hit his head with his pen because apparently, he wrote too fast. Silly him!" Sua replies smoothly, all fake concern.
Mizi gasps softly. "Aw, did that hurt, Ivan?" She looks genuinely worried—why she’d waste such concern on a menace like him is beyond Sua’s comprehension.
Ivan, still reeling, glares at Sua.
Sua glares back, smirking smugly.
Heh. Kid. You will NOT tell Mizi what happened earlier.
Across the room, Till flicks his gaze toward them, takes in the scene of Ivan’s simmering frustration and Sua’s victorious expression, and promptly returns to his math homework like none of this is his problem.
Mizi, ever the sweet angel she is, goes to help Till with his math. Which is cute, because for all that Sua knows, Mizi isn’t even that good at math, but she tries anyway.
See? Her romance is at its peak. Unlike some loser who is definitely not her little brother.