A/N: To my previous subscribers (yes I remember some of you, especially those who always leave comments), thank you so much. It's really encouraging to see you.

(Nayeon dreams of the sun and moon again, this time, with no blood. But she sees herself in it. Unknowingly, she clutches the silver sword necklace her father gave her when she sees a girl. Said girl is wearing a glowing ring on her right index finger. Then there was brightness.

She wakes up in a sweat, with her digital clock reading 2:29 am, really clutching her necklace.)

“You look like , Nayeon.” Jennie, her classmate in music class with the sophomores, whistled, looking over Nayeon slumped over in her seat.

“Not much sleep. Kept waking up every hour.” She slurs, not bothering to reply with sass while fighting her urge to just close her eyes and drift away. She hears Jennie walk away and sighs. Jennie’s uncharacteristically silent, but it might be because her seatmate isn't there to entertain her.

Jeongyeon’s still not here.

Nayeon bumps her head on the table, groaning when her eyes suddenly stung.

Stupid dreams. Stupid nightmares. Ugh.

“Nayeon-sunbaenim…?” A squeak on her left wakes her a little bit. She leans a bit and sees Kim Dahyun, her favorite sophomore, looking at her. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll live.” She can only croak. “And really? Sunbaenim?” Despite being so tired, she manages to throw a playful look at the shy sophomore.

“Sorry, unnie, habits die hard.” Dahyun chuckles before frowning. “But seriously, unnie, you look like you’re gonna kiss the floor anytime soon.” She looks around. They still have 15 minutes to spare, and their music teacher is always late. “You can lie down at the desk behind me, and I’ll cover you up, Jennie-sunbae too. You really need some shut-eye.” Dahyun stands up to let Nayeon pass, which the older girl appreciates. 

“Thanks, Dubu. Wake me up when Teacher Lee comes.” She falls asleep even before she lays her head on her arms.

Dahyun didn’t bother waking her up, nor did Jennie, who sat beside the sophomore. Their teacher didn’t mind anyway.

Chaeyoung reaches their neighbourhood after hours of walking and “riding” public transport (if she considers passing through the doors of the buses and trains she rode as riding). After many attempts of getting the attention of anybody that comes her way, she gave up. She tried to navigate her way towards their district, hoping that somehow somebody could see her there.

She trudges towards the district park and sighs. The possibility of her death lingering in her mind, she tries to shake it off. She goes to a nearby bench to sit, only for her to plop on the grass.

Right. She thinks. I’m a ghost. Seeing herself through the bench makes her teary, but she holds her tears.

Now is not the time to cry. She stands up and looks at the sky, sighing. But what am I gonna do?

A ragged Nayeon slams the classroom door, and all the students shift their attention to her with blinking eyes. Realizing the attention she's getting, she enters the room with her head down while breathing hard. Luckily, their Japanese teacher isn’t there yet. She sits beside Momo at the back of the room.

“Well, you look like .” Momo comments. She and Momo took Japanese together despite Momo’s proficiency in the language given her nationality. 

(“Well, I’m in Nihongo. I get it if you choose another language instead.” Nayeon says, observing Momo while she looks up the language catalogue. The juniors get to pick a language to study until their senior year. “Jihyo and Sana already picked French, and Jeongyeon, dear goodness, chose German. I don’t get why she did that.”

“If you want Nabongs, I’ll join you in Nihongo class.” Momo smiles at her. “I might’ve forgotten my first language anyway, with how long I’ve been here in Seoul.”)

“Well, thanks, Moguri. You’re not the only one who thinks that.” She mumbles, clutching her head. “Can’t believe Dubu didn’t wake me up. I slept through the whole music period.”

“Well, you can sleep through Nihongo too. It looks like you need it.” Momo pats her hair, and she shakes her head, refusing to do so. She sits up straight and gets her notebook when their teacher enters.

Without further ado, their teacher started their lesson. Nayeon’s mind, however, was elsewhere.

It’s now the second day that Chaeyoung has been missing, and the student body hasn’t heard anything from the case. Nayeon and the others haven’t heard from both Seungwan and Jeongyeon either. The faculty are being silent too. Nayeon doesn’t want to think of any possibility that the small freshman wouldn’t be found anymore. It’s making her antsy every minute.

She looks at Momo beside her, who was absentmindedly fiddling with her pen, clearly not paying attention to anything.

You’re like that to me, too, Nabongs. And I can’t afford to lose you.

A spark in her inner self, and she blushes, remembering how sincere and loving Momo looked when she uttered her words yesterday. She looks away and focuses on the landscape outside instead, fearing that Momo would notice.

The sun is blaring at 10 in the morning, and Nayeon squints hard, the sunlight reflecting on her glasses. Looking down, she watches Dahyun and the one she calls Eunbi Jr. (“It’s SinB, sunbaenim!”) race on the track with hurdles, with Dahyun obviously leading. She smiles along with the sophomore class when Dahyun slows down and reaches the finish line the boys are holding. She chuckles internally when Eunbi Jr. follows and jumps on Dahyun’s back, seemingly shouting “Nice one, Dubu!” while at it.

(It was her junior year, and it was that time of the year where club officers are trying to convince young freshmen to join them. Nayeon, being a part of the drama club, wandered around the campus to place posters and sign-up lists on every bulletin board she saw. She passes by the gym bulletin board when she hears a loud crash and several jeering voices. Figuring that the noises came from the locker areas, she decides to peek at the window of the locker doors to spot some seniors crowding on a student.

A freshman girl, obviously with a green necktie and an id card lying near where the commotion is.

“You think high school’s fun, pale face? Here’s a slap of reality!” One of the guys says, throwing a dodgeball on the poor girl lying on the floor. Her head was down, so Nayeon couldn’t see her face.

Aggravated, Nayeon snaps a few photos, silently runs to the ball lockers, and grabs some tennis balls. She places the balls carefully on the floor near the lockers’ entrance. She sends a quick message to then-senior peacekeeper Jung Soojung and freshman representative Lalisa Manoban. The moment she receives Soojung’s “I’ll be there.”, she slams her hand on the doors, alarming the people inside.

She silently sits by the corner and watches how the panicky bullies push the door open and tumble on the tennis balls. Nayeon sees the crying freshman dash out of the lockers and the gym room with the boys down. Fast.

Before Nayeon snaps out of her daze, the gym doors open to see a fuming Soojung followed by a teacher, Lalisa, and then-council president Bae Suji.

Avoiding the seniors, she enters the room to pick the necktie and id up and quietly sneaks out of the gym room. Her phone vibrates, probably a thank you message from Soojung. Walking past the bulletin boards, she sees a paper for the track and field tryouts with no written name. Her mind wanders back to the speedy freshman and checks her id.

Kim Dahyun. 1-C.

Later, she spots Shiah and Yook Sungjae in front of the track field. Giving Sungjae a bow of respect, she excuses her classmate from him, with Sungjae nodding before heading off somewhere.

“YooA, my girl,” Nayeon casually slings her arm on Shiah’s shoulders. “I heard a certain Kim Dahyun from 1-C is a fast runner.”

(Nayeon discovers sooner that the seniors bullying Dahyun get suspended, and Dahyun is a very awkward cutie who just wanted to have friends. Shiah treats Nayeon and Dahyun ice cream after the tryouts, with Shiah being extra sweet to her (a gesture of thanks, Nayeon thinks). Dahyun remains as her favourite dongsaeng from her class.))

“Miss Im.” A gruff voice from the front of the classroom snaps her out of her memory lane. She glances, cursing inwardly when she feels a bone crack.  “Good to know you’re still with us.” The class laughs, an