Sejeong and I walk toward class, and even though I've been up for some hours, I still feel groggy from lack of sleep. Also, I've been getting more looks than usual all day, making me wonder if my conflict with Taemin and Kai is now public knowledge. And as though they knew I was thinking about them, I hear Taemin's and Kai's voices behind us.

Sejeong pushes through a classroom and I exhale in relief. But it's short-lived, because not five seconds later Taemin and Kai enter, too. And to make matters worse, Jennie is with them.

The five of us are the first ones in the classroom, where the desks, if you can call the large wooden tables that, have all been pushed to the edges of the room. There are two ropes tied securely around a thick dark wood ceiling beam, and hanging between them is a flag bearing the school crest.

"I can't say I'm not disappointed, Sejeong," Jennie says, and her eyes are direct and probing. "I thought you were the smart twin. But every time I turn around I think you're less neutral than the day before." There is no showmanship in Jennie's approach the way there is when Taemin is toying with someone. And she doesn't look back at her friends for approval and solidarity the way Kai usually does. She's direct. You can tell she says what she means and a threat is a threat.

I look from Jennie to Sejeong, and it's obvious by Sejeong's expression and rigid posture that whatever Jennie is talking about it important. Then it clicks. Neutral. Sehun used that word when he asked me about my Strategia Family politics - he said "for, against, or neutral."

Kai is standing next to Jennie, and he's a good six to seven inches taller than she is. He's also right between us and the door. "I think maybe Sejeong always fell on the wrong side of politics, and that it just took her sloppy friend here to shine a light on it." The contradiction between his silky voice and the words he chose makes me do a double take. He's like a toddler, cursing with a smile.

One look at Sejeong and it's clear she wishes she could disappear.

"Sloppy?" I say, boisterously enough that the whole ominous mood breaks. "Pfft. If you're trying to insult me, you're going to have to be more creative than that." They all look at me with dagger eyes, but I don't care. I'm just happy to take the heat off Sejeong for a second. I owe her that much at least. "I met an eight-year-old a couple of weeks ago who called me a Skittle fart. Now that's creativity."

"Every time you open your mouth," Taemin says, spreading his hands out like he has an audience of hundreds instead of four, "it only confirms the fact that you don't belong here."

"Just because you -" I start, but the door opens and middle-aged woman I'm assuming is the professor walks in with a few more students walking behind her. I shut my mouth and the five of us break apart, like we were never talking in the first place.

I knew these three would be a problem for me, but I never thought they'd target Sejeong because of me. I watch Sejeong, who seems to be just as uncomfortable as I am, and wish I could apologize. But I know that at this point the situation has escalated beyond what an "I'm sorry" can fix.

"So you're all here but you're still wearing your cloaks," the professor says. "I shouldn't have to remind you to always be prepared."

The room goes silent and we move quickly to hang our cloaks on the far wall. Everyone returns to form a line in front of the professor, who looks directly at me. "I'm Professor Zerstören, Suzy. Welcome to your first day of psychological warfare - or, as we affectionately call it, mind games."

I nod my consent, careful not to speak out of turn like I did in Flechier's class. Zerstören - the name of German origin . . . it means "destroy."

Professor Zerstören begins to roll up the sleeves of her black linen blouse in nice, even folds. "Last class we were speaking about perception - how reality can be immaterial because what matters is what you're opponent thinks is real. For example, if you can convince someone that you are more powerful than you really are, you can potentially scare them out of battle. Anyone?

Taemin answers before the others, which seems to be a pattern of his. "At night, Gwang Khan would order his soldiers to light three torches each to give the illusion of an enormous army and intimidate his enemies. He also tied objects to horses' tails so that when they rode through dry fields they'd kick up clouds of dust and further enhance the impression of their numbers." He delivers his answer with a clear voice and a smile. Upon first encounter, I thought Taemin, Kai, and Jennie were the equivalents of the popular crowd at Jeongseon, but I'm thinking Taemin's confidence comes from being well trained and prepared.

"Right," Zerstören says. "Influence perception and you have the ability to change an outcome without fighting." She clasps her hands behind her back and looks up at the ceiling. "Today, we're going to do something unusual and start class with a physical activity. As you can see, I've hung a flag from the ceiling beam. There are two ropes and eight of you." She opens a container of what looks like hand chalk for climbing and walks down the line of us; I watch as the students dip their hands in and pat them together. "You'll have to be fast and you'll have to be smart. There are no rules about the types of tactics you might use against one another. The only rule is that the first person to reach the desk directly behind you is the winner."

I want to think I misheard her, but I didn't. What I can't wrap my mind around is the factor that Zerstören is encouraging us to fight our way up two ropes to a beam that's at least fourteen feet off the ground. There's no safety net, no rules. In fact, she gave us permission to fight it out any way we need to, which, knowing this bunch, probably means a lot of martial art moves I'm not prepared for. Stealing a cloth in the dark was one thing, but this is something else entirely. And after last night and the conversation we just had with Taemin, Kai, and Jennie, this is basically the worst-case scenario.

"Boxing," I say, and take a jab in the air on our front porch. "Or wushu." I throw a kick.

Uncle Jin sips his lemonade with his feet up on the porch railing.

"You know defensive moves, Su," Appa says as he whittles away at a walking stick with his favorite knife. It's got a silver handle int he shape of a Tiger's head. "And you know how to get out of someone's grip if they grab you."

I groan. "Are you kidding? Those aren't remotely the same as what I'm talking about. You've taught me about knives, swords, y traps, and survival skills" - I count the items off on my fingers as I go - "but you won't teach me boxing? Do you hear yourself?"

"Taekwoon is probably scared you'll kick his all over town," Uncle Jin says, and I giggle. "Embarrass him in front of all his buddies."

Appa tries to contain his smile, but it sneaks into the corners of his eyes. "I'll teach you when you're older."

"How old?" I say.

"Eighteen," he says, and I nearly fall off the step I'm balancing on.

"Seven years? Seven?" I look pleadingly at my uncle. "Uncle Jin?"

"Don't use that cute face on me," he says. "I see what you're doing."

"Su," Appa says. "I'm intentionally not teaching you how to fight."

"Because you think I'm going to get hurt?" I say.

He pauses his whittling. "Because you already have the skills to be an excellent fighter. You're fast and strong. You have good reflexes. You'll pick up boxing easily. But I don't want you to think like a fighter. I want you to think differently."

"Differently how?" I ask.

"I want you to think of unusual and creative solutions. And I want you to see the world in your own unique way. If you learn to hit a certain way in boxing or to jump a certain way in wushu, your brain will immediately default to them as an answer. I don't want you to rely on the same answers every other person does. I want you to make up your own. If you learn how to approach a fight from an unexpected angle, you will become the weapon your opponent can't predict.

Zerstören has stopped in front of me and offers me the hand chalk. 

"I . . . ," I start, but I have idea how to tell her that I don't know how to fight properly.

"Afraid to join in?" she says, and everyone looks at me.

"No, I just . . ." I look at Sejeong for help, but her expression is unreadable. Reluctantly, I dip my hands in the chalk.

"Everyone stay where you are," Zerstören says. "Suzy, take three steps toward the ropes."

Jennie shoots me a disgusted look.

Oh, this is just getting worse by the second. "I really don't need an advantage," I say.

"Take three steps forward, like I said." The professor's voice has a commanding edge and I move forward.

If I lose now, it's going to be ten times more embarrassing. My whole body tenses as Zerstören drags out the next couple of seconds in silence.

"And go!" she says loudly, and everyone makes a dash for the ropes.

I don't get two strides in when a boot strikes the back of my knee, sending me flailing onto the floor. Jennie snickers and all seven students pass me full-speed.

Near the ropes, Kai takes a fast swing at Sejong. She dodge gracefully, though I'm not sure how she could have anticipated his punch. But just as Sejeong eludes Kai, Taemin lands a kick to her stomach. She doubles over, and from the way she's gasping, I know he knocked the wind out of her.

I jump up from the floor and start to move toward her, but as I do Taemin turns to face me. I somehow see everything at once: Kai has reach the rope, and when he grabs for the guy who's clinging to it, he gets a swift kick in the face. Sejeong is upright and her breathing seems easier, but then my view of her is temporarily blocked by Taemin, who is now running toward me. From the little I've witnessed of his fighting skills, there is every likelihood I'll end up with broken bones if he attacks me. His eyes narrow as he closes in, and I don't think anymore, I run, too - all the way back to the tables near the wall. I arrive a split second before he does.

"Stop!" Zerstören says, and Taemin stops just before he collides with me. As the sparring at the ropes subsides, a few frustrated groans escapes the fighters' lips. Did Zerstören stop the challenge because I ran? I look from Taemin to the professor. I doubt Zerstören is going to let it pass without broadcasting my fear in detail to the whole class. And after the confrontations I've already had with Taemin, this might be one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. I can almost feel myself shrinking.

"Suzy is the winner."

Hold on, what? My head whips toward Professor Zerstören so fast, I'm lucky I don't wrench my neck. I open my mouth but quickly shut it again before an admission of complete confusion comes tumbling out.

Taemin looks at me like I just solidified my role as competition, and I get the sense that the last place I ever want to be is between Taemin and his glory. I would back up another step, but the table and the wall make that impossible.

"Make a sound in the east, then strike in the west - from the Thirty-Six Stratagems,"Zerstören says. "We will be studying them closely over the next few months. These psychological tactics aren't new. In fact, they were compiled somewhere around 500 BCE. What is interesting here is that you all are still falling for the same tricks people used twenty-five hundred years ago. People don't change, the props around them do." She smiles an amused smile. "I spoke so much about the flag that the only thing you focused on was how to beat each other, not on what I was actually saying. Think about it: I never said you needed to capture the flag to win. I said you needed to touch the table. However, I must admit that I'm shocked that only two of you were truly listening."

I want to laugh at my pure dumb luck, except it's not funny. Had I actually participated the way I intended to, and the way most of the students had, I would be knocked unconscious right now.

"And I'll hand it to you, Suzy," continues the professor. "You acted naive, and the way you protested about getting an advantage was brilliant. You demonstrated tactics in keeping with this class's lessons. I look forward to seeing what else you'll contribute."

The other students' frustrated expressions intensify, and I'm now getting openly nasty looks. I wish I could crawl under the table and pretend this never happened.

I try to catch Sejeong's eye to see if she's okay. But she won't look in my direction. Taemin does, though, and he winks at me. But it's not a friendly, flirty wink. He's throwing down a gauntlet - he's powerful, he's smart, and he's after me.