we strive for the forbidden

Wheein hates the crunching noise of the pebbly soil underneath her, yet she forcefully stomps her feet as she heads to the back of the male students dorm. She squints, counting the windows with lights on. There are 4, and fortunately one of them is the window on the left corner of the second floor, strategically right next to a tree.

Wheein throws her blazer to the ground and rolls up her sleeve, shaking a bit from her skin’s contact with the cold night air. After making sure there’s no prying eyes around, she starts climbing the tree skilfully, each bark welcoming her with a steady perch.

It doesn’t take long until Wheein sits comfortably on one of the higher, larger branches. She breaks a skinny twig and leans forward to scratch the window with it. Getting no response, she starts tapping the window in frantic rhythm.

Wheein hears a groan, and a silhouette appears in the middle of the blind, which means the inhabitant of the room must’ve noticed her presence. Sure enough, the blind is set aside, and Jeonghan comes into view, his long hair strayed here and there, eyes lidded.

“What do you want?” he growls after he slides his window open.

“Good evening,” Wheein replies with the sweetest smile she can muster, just to annoy Jeonghan.

Sure enough, the guy’s face drops even more. “Jung Wheein, it’s 2 AM. Any sane person wouldn’t--”

“It’s freezing outside. May I come in?” Wheein cuts him.

Jeonghan sighs in defeat. He steps back to give Wheein a bit of landing space as she jumps into his bedroom like she always does every time she sneaks in. 

“Stay away from my bed,” Jeonghan warns, “You’re disgusting.”

Wheein glances down at her messy attire. Her white shirt’s covered with visible dirt and one of her knee-length socks was torn. She doesn’t even want to think about the condition of her blazer outside on the cold hard ground.

“Busy day at training,” she shrugs, “I forgot to bring my battle uniform and they told us to patrol the ghost town for battle strategy class. Something about inventorying. I didn’t pay attention. And fell.”

Jeonghan grabs a towel from the clean laundry piled on his desk. “Then why are you here instead of resting like a normal human being?” he asks.

Wheein snatches the towel off his hand and uses it to dry her frizzing hair, “I need your help.”

“Of course,” Jeonghan sits down on his bed, letting out a dramatic huff, “You never seek me otherwise.”

“Don’t be like that,” Wheein whips the towel to Jeonghan’s direction and he dodges it.

Jeonghan is far too sleepy for this, and his head is pounding from all the stress he gets from the festival. He is, however, weak to temptation. And Wheein’s invitation to mischief is always tempting. 

“Okay, so what’s the situation?” he asks, leaning back on his many pillows as he watch Wheein making herself comfortable on his swivel chair.

“I need your help to—“ Wheein pauses, “Hold on. You can’t tell anyone about this, though.”

“Anyone?” Jeonghan raises an eyebrow, “At all?”

“Yes,” Wheein picks on a thread from her torn sock, “That includes Hyojung.”

Jeonghan shoots her a look, “What are you up to? Does Sowon know about this? Is it some criminal stuff you’re planning? Because frankly, I don’t want to live as an outcast after the Academy kick us out. So count me out and do it yourself and let me sleep—“

“Sssssh,” Wheein puts both her hands on her ears and winces, “Can’t you be quiet a bit? I have a legit explanation.”

“Then start explaining.”

“I guess I’ll have to start from the start,” Wheein takes a deep breath before continuing, “Jeonghan, I’m not an S-class. I’m a recruit. Although I still have to attend school.”

Moonbyul knows it’s past midnight, although she doesn’t bother to give the clock on the wall a glance. She sleepily waits for the last few pages of her report to print, imagining her bed and blankets at home. As the printer coughs until it stops, she grabs the pile of paper and turns on her heels to the photocopy machine, only to crash against something— someone— and sending pages to fly everywhere.

“Oh god,” Moonbyul cries in despair, “Eric, you surprised me.”

Eric grins, unfazed by the mess he more or less caused just seconds ago. “Hiya, Byul! What are you doing, still up here in this hour?”

“Last-minute reports and stuff,” Moonbyul answers, not looking at the guy because she’s picking up the papers, “How about you?”

“I have some explaining to do to the principal.”

Moonbyul hums knowingly. Of course, teachers that went MIA for more than a couple of days have to do more than just some explaining. “How long have you been gone, anyway?”

“I’m not quite sure, to be honest. You know how this time jumping goes. I think I got lost a bit somewhere circa Renaissance.”

Moonbyul straightens her back, taking in the full view of Eric for the first time in weeks. He’s wearing some sort of extravagant suit, which Moonbyul recognises from some history documentaries she probably saw in her school days. She figures a nobleman probably had favored Eric in old time Europe, hence the fancy, but terribly ugly suit. Eric always has his ways in the past. And in the future, as a matter of fact. Being sociable is definitely a plus point for time travelers like him.

“Yongsun misses you, you know,” Moonbyul blurts out before she could stop herself.

Eric’s smile falters, replaced by a look of guilt. “I know,” he says softly, “I know. I’ll have to make it up for her, huh?”

“Yeah, you should,” Moonbyul looks away, pretending to adjust her papers, “Don’t mess it up, Eric. She’s going to be your wife in a few months.”

Eric smiles again, less silly and more gentle this time. “Aye, aye, Byul, don’t worry about that.”

“Yongsun is also..” Moonbyul hesitates, “Uh.. a bit upset, I think. I might have made her mad the last time I saw her.”

“You? Making her mad?” Eric’s eyes widen in surprise, “Psssh, that’s nonsense. Yongsun would never be mad at you. She treats you like a little sister more than Wheein.”

Oh, if only you knew, Moonbyul bitterly corrects. “Probably. But, you know, just to make sure.”

“I’ll put in some good words about you,” Eric’s silly grin is back, “I should go before the Principal’s anger escalates even more.”

“Good luck, captain,” Moonbyul gives Eric a salute, which he replies back before he twirls around a corner and disappears, leaving Moonbyul with disorganised papers and a heavy heart.

Jeonghan craves adventure. That’s his only ticket to excitement, since average B-class students like don’t have a lot going on in their academy lives until they graduate to use their powers as regular people to help other regular people do regular things. Jeonghan’s going to milk his opportunity as much as he can. After all, not everyone can be friends with both a pyrokineticist and a daughter of the Academy’s principal at the same time, and get away with all their white crimes for it.

But right now, he’s not sure if there’s any way to get away with this.

“Are you sure there’s no other way to check?” he whispers, as he follows Wheein’s agile steps criss-crossing the intricate corridors of the academy’s main office, which are, fortunately, almost completely deserted in this time of day, when most staff are gone to have lunch.

Wheein sighs, for she already repeated this fact countless times to her distressed friend. “I told you, Sowon already checked everything. She even asked her father but he wouldn’t let her touch anything on the subject, and you know we wouldn’t have a chance if the principal’s daughter herself isn’t allowed to investigate.”

“I s