Chanyeol gaped at Sehun.

Sehun gaped right back.

“Wait, how did you find out, too?” Chanyeol asked, eyes wide. “And what the hell happened to Haneul?”

“How did you find out?” countered Sehun. “And what the hell happened to your face?”

His friend’s gaze dropped to the unconscious girl. “Never mind that! Is she… Is she dead? Oh my God, did Mr. Do find out that you found out and take revenge on Haneul? Is she gonna die? Is she -”

Sehun shut Chanyeol up by heaving Haneul’s limp body into his arms. “She’s not dead, hyung.” He rolled his eyes, turning and walking ahead. “She passed out from exhaustion in the middle of class. Come on, let’s talk on the way to the nurse. By the look of that bruise on your cheek, you ought to be heading there, too.”

Chanyeol, paralyzed by his proximity to Haneul’s face, didn’t follow. I’ve never been this close to her before, he thought dreamily, drinking in her soft features. She looks much more pleasant than Grouchy Smurf when she’s unconscious.

“Hey, Prince Phillip,” Sehun called impatiently, already halfway down the hallway. “Either kiss your Sleeping Beauty and wake her up, or let’s go! You still have some explaining to do!”

Startled, he shifted Haneul’s head to a more comfortable position on his shoulder and staggered after the soccer captain. “Sehun, wait up! She’s heavy!”

By the time the three of them arrived at the nurse’s office, Sehun was once again carrying Haneul after watching Chanyeol thump the girl’s lolling head against stray lockers a few too many times. Sehun explained Haneul’s complaints of migraines and exhaustion to the school nurse, and she concluded Haneul had fainted from a combination of dehydration, poor diet, stress, and sleep deprivation.

“Poor dear,” she said, patting the unconscious girl’s cheek. “She must have been overworking herself. I’ll administer some IV fluids, and she’ll be as good as new soon. But you -” She turned to Chanyeol, fixing him and his bruised cheek with a stern glare. “- are another story. Don’t get into fights you can’t win. Or just don’t get in fights at all.”

Sehun coughed to hide his delighted chortle.

“I need to go get a saline bag from the storeroom for her IV drip,” the nurse said to him, shooting a wary glance back at Chanyeol. “As for your troublemaker of a friend over there, he can have an ice pack from the freezer. I’ll be back soon.”

Nodding obediently, Sehun stayed silent until she left. The second her white uniform disappeared from sight, he Chanyeol. “Hurry up and tell me! How did you find out?” Sehun had explained on the way to the nurse’s how he had recognized Mr. Do’s shoes, and he was bursting with curiosity to learn how Chanyeol had found out.

Holding the ice pack to his face, Chanyeol filled his friend in on the conversation he’d overheard in the office. Sehun frowned.

“So Mr. Do did all of that to you just because he was mad you ruined his chances at tenure?” he asked. “I didn’t realize he hated you that much. I didn’t suspect him, not at all.”

Chanyeol shrugged helplessly. “I didn’t, either,” he admitted. But in hindsight, he was stunned how clear the signs were. Mr. Do, upon hearing Sehun and Haneul talking during his class about investigating the chemistry classroom for clues, must have stolen Jieqiong’s ring and left it in the sink as a red herring. As a teacher, he’d also had access to the storage closet where Joonmyun’s camera was, making it exceptionally easy for him to steal the photo after watching Joonmyun take it in his class earlier that day. Furthermore, Chanyeol had discovered his song lyrics were missing after the appointment with Mr. Do and his academic advisor, and the lyrics had been posted by the Finstagrammer mere minutes later. It all fit.

“But something still feels like it’s missing,” Sehun said, rubbing at his chin. “I can’t believe a teacher would do something this drastic just out of hatred.”

“We can ask Mr. Do about that when we go beat his ,” Haneul croaked, scrubbing at her slowly opening eyes. “God, my head hurts. How hard did I slam it when I fell off my stool?” Chanyeol jumped to pour her a cup of water, countenance guilty.

“You can thank Chanyeol for that,” Sehun said, ignoring his friend’s betrayed whine. “I lost count after the fifteenth time he slammed your head into a wall.”

The girl grumbled faintly. “I hate -”

“Yeah, yeah, Grouchy Smurf, you hate everything. I know. Now shut up before you overexert yourself and pass out on me again.”

“Hey, only I get to call her Grouchy Smurf!” Chanyeol sulked. “But Sehun’s right, Haneul. You shouldn’t talk too much until the nurse gets back with your IV bag; we don’t want you tiring yourself out.” She pouted but didn’t protest.

“Hmm.” A rare smile made its way to Sehun’s lips. “I just thought of something.”

“Congrats,” Haneul muttered bitterly. Both boys sent her identical warning glares, and she shut promptly.

“As I was saying,” Sehun continued, pretending she hadn’t spoken at all. “I just realized that our resident model student Choi Haneul was the last one to solve this mystery, and her two lab minions were the ones who figured it out, not only first, but simultaneously.”

“So what?” Haneul couldn’t resist responding.

“So,” Sehun said with a quirk of his lips, “it’s just funny. Everybody thought you were too smart for us, but now it turns out that we were smarter than you in this instance.”

Haneul snorted, and for a moment, Sehun thought she would say something nasty and derisive, but then her face softened.

“Well,” she said, dark eyes dancing. “I suppose it’s time for you two minions to be promoted, then. Bippity-boppity-boo! You are no longer pumpkins!” She smacked both boys on their foreheads.

“Say, Chanyeol.” Sehun rubbed at his skin, expression both pained and amused. “Just how hard did you smash her head into the lockers?”

The next morning, Haneul was back in class, having done nothing but sleep, eat, and sleep again the previous day. She still didn’t feel quite right, and her neck was aching dully when she woke up, but was determined to make it through the school day and confront Mr. Do with Chanyeol and Sehun.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Haneul?” Mr. Kim asked. “If you start feeling strange or like something’s wrong, don’t be afraid to put your head down for a minute or go to the nurse.”

She smiled politely, thanking him for his concern. The one good thing about having a concussion, she thought, is having something to blame my pathetic music composition skills on. So I guess I can thank Chanyeol for slamming my head repeatedly into lockers. Maybe it'll even improve my skills; there’s really nowhere but up to go at this point.

“Hey, don’t be so harsh on yourself. You’re getting better at composition,” her teacher said, smiling gently. “Not everyone’s a musical genius; it’s okay.”

Oops. Did I say that out loud?

“Yes. Yes, you did.” Patting her on the shoulder, Mr. Kim chuckled. “Take it easy today, Haneul.” She nodded, but inside, she knew she wouldn’t be taking it easy.

Not today, oh no. I’ve got a little weasel of a teacher’s to kick today.

“Excuse me?” Her teacher arched an eyebrow.

Oops.

“Concussion. Brain. Weird things coming out of my mouth today.” She offered a sheepish grin, hoping her half-baked excuse would suffice. Thankfully, Mr. Kim seemed to accept that her brain wasn’t quite working correctly, and he left her with a sympathetic smile and a quick “hwaiting!”.

Slipping past the teacher with an absent-minded bow, Chanyeol slid into his usual seat behind her. “G’morning,” he mumbled, eyebrows furrowed and fingers fidgety. Haneul frowned, missing the sunshine that usually radiated off his every word and action.

“What happened? Did the Finstagra - did Mr. Do post something again? I’m going to kick his even harder if he did!”

Chanyeol smiled a little, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “No, nothing like that. I just talked to the principal about the fight I got into yesterday in Physics. Apparently he wants to put a disciplinary letter in my permanent file about it.”

“Wait, what?” Haneul’s jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious. You mean the file that gets sent out when you apply for colleges?”

“Yeah.” He forced a grin. “But it’s okay. The top colleges will probably reject me the second they see I instigated a fight in school, but maybe one of the smaller universities will still accept me.”

“They can’t do this to you!” Her fists clenched. “Those boys were in the wrong, not you! They called you derogatory names and basically threatened to spread false rumors about you and your best friend. I would have fought them, too!”

“You probably would have won.” Chanyeol chuckled half-heartedly. “Not like me. I got thrashed. I think I need more pilates sessions to build up strength.”

“Stop acting like this is a joke, Park Chanyeol,” she said, glaring up at him fiercely. “It’s not. It’s not funny at all, and we’re going to fix this.”

Haneul’s usual belligerence seemed to intensify exponentially in her concussed state, especially as the afternoon wore on and her pain medication wore off, and Chanyeol was finding it way too adorable for his own good.

“I’m going to punch that snake Do Kyungsoo so hard, he’s going to go flying back into his momma’s tummy.” She scowled, jabbing at the air with a fist. “I hate him. I hate him so much! Chanyeol, I really, really hate him!”

Wrestling with the tips of his lips that were curling up against his will, Chanyeol coughed. “I know, Haneul. That’s why we’re waiting for Sehun outside his classroom right now. You and me and Sehun are going to go confront Mr. Do -”

“Just confront him? No, Chanyeol, I told you, I wanna punch him! Really, really hard!”

Sehun, who had just emerged from his class, quirked an eyebrow. “She’s like Grouchy Smurf on steroids now,” he remarked drily. “Or maybe bath salts.”

“I won’t lie, I’m almost feeling sorry for Mr. Do at this point,” Chanyeol agreed. “Almost.”

Inpatient, Haneul grabbed his hand and yanked. “Hurry up! Let’s go!” The boy blushed at the feeling of her hand in his, letting her manhandle him in the direction of the science wing.

“Is this normal behavior for someone with a concussion?” Sehun asked, jogging lightly behind them to keep up with Haneul’s brisk pace. “She’s so… I don't even know how to describe it. At what point should we start worrying there’s been permanent damage to her brain?”

“I looked it up, and apparently mood and anger problems are common amongst concussion patients.” Chanyeol flailed, struggling not to trip over his own feet. “Her pain medication is wearing off now too, so that might be a contributor to her anger.”

His friend scoffed. “You think?”

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” Haneul said, turning to glare at Sehun as she walked. “I’m right here -- oof!” She collided with a firm chest, sending herself and the two boys sprawling, landing in a tangle of arms and legs. Grimacing, she cradled her head. That concussion was not going away anytime soon at this rate.

“Park Chanyeol, why are you always involved whenever something like this happens?” Mr. Do sighed, dusting off his pants. “Do watch where you are going, please.”

Haneul gasped and pointed a dramatic finger at him from the ground. “You! I have a bone to pick with you, Do Kyungsoo!” A student, running late and lingering in the locker banks, gawped at her, shocked to see Choi Haneul speaking so rudely to a teacher.

“She’s a little concussed,” Sehun explained to the student with a forced grin. “Sorry. But Mr. Do, we really do need to talk to you, preferably in private.”

The chemistry teacher stared at him for a moment, gaze unreadable. Then he turned, silently walking toward his classroom. The on the floor exchanged glances, and, disentangling themselves, followed him inside.

“I assume you’re here about the Finstagram,” Mr. Do said, posture serene. “I can tell from your expressions. You probably have a lot of questions.”

“Yeah, like what the hell is wrong with you?” Haneul snapped. “How dare you! Subjecting Chanyeol to misery and humiliation just because you failed to get tenure! That's probably your own fault anyway, you incompetent bastard!”

The chemistry teacher directed an amused glance at the two boys behind her. “She really is concussed. I’ve never seen her like this before.”