I don’t know why the attack on Normandy in World War 2 was referred to as D-Day, or better yet, why it became somewhat of a slang term for an attack day in general, but my own personal D-Day had arrived, and I was nervous.

            Today was the day I would return Voldemort to its original owners.

            Well, it wouldn’t just be me.  Dara was the other person who would be joining me on this mission.

            The door slammed open and shut, and my partner walked into the house in a bra, high heels in hand.  She walked into the room with her usual day-after grimace, long brown hair swinging over her shoulder.

            “Hey, Tampon Girl.  There are more gifts for you on the front steps,” she informed with a laugh, heading upstairs.

            Hyoyeon giggled from her position in front of the kitchen counter, working on a culinary assignment as I let out a huff from the table.

            Over the past week, the news of “Tampon Girl” had spread through the entirety of Seoul University, and I had received more tampons than I would ever have to use in my life.  After every class I had, there was a small pile awaiting me behind my seat.  Every day at lunch – when I was there or not – an assortment of boxes and sole tampons had found home on our lunch table.

            I slowly walked to the front door, anticipating the sight I had seen for the past five days: nearly fifty boxes of tampons sitting on the front stoop.  It took a couple of trips, but I had lugged in all of the “goods” within ten minutes.

            The largest problem, next to teasing, that came with the tampons, was finding enough space to store them.  My housemates had all, already taken their shares of the bounty, each with their own supply large enough to last a small female army for a few months.  The tampons had filled three of the cabinets in our upstairs bathroom, and the entire closet space of the downstairs bathroom.  There was no room left under my bed, so with this new reaping of feminine products, I was a bit at a loss of what to do with them.

            “Are you ready to succumb, Hana?” Hyoyeon asked, a hint of a laugh coming through her voice.

            “No,” I mumbled, leaving my gifts in the front room.

            “Just use your closet.” Hyoyeon giggled as she continued to add chocolate to the bowl she was working over.

            “There isn’t enough space.”

            “Then get rid of some of your books.”

            “Hey, Satan, that’s like asking me to stop eating or breathing.”

            Hyoyeon looked up, her eyes no longer joking, but a bit convicting.  It made my skin crawl and I knew exactly what state of mind she had entered: Mother Mode.

            “Well, there is no more storage space anywhere else.  And this is your problem, so figure out what you will do with those tampons.”

            “Technically, it’s your fault.  Ha-hem,” I muttered under my breath.

            Hyoyeon and I held each other’s stares before she started laughing and I awkwardly looked away.

            “Fine, we’ll figure out what to do with them together, but can you come try the first batch?” Hyoyeon gestured to the plate of brownies sitting next to her.  I scrunched my nose.

            No way in hell.

            Hyoyeon was a culinary major (she also minored in dance), and to say she was a master in the kitchen would be an understatement.  She could make hundreds of dishes given a random set of ingredients, a recipe, or a vague description of a taste.  Whenever Alice or I was homesick, she would be away in the kitchen, cooking dishes that tasted identical to our parents’.  Everyone in the house had grown a large craving and weekly need for Italian food because Hyoyeon made it so well and so often.

            Despite Hyoyeon’s near-perfection in the kitchen, there was one thing she could not make to save her life: Brownies.  It was an unfortunate day my sophomore year, that I had tasted her brownies.  I was on my period, and it was an assignment for Hyoyeon to make six different chocolate desserts.  She had thought it would be a special treat if she made a batch just for me.  The brownie tasted like literal garbage and I spent a good hour retching my insides out into our toilet.

            “Now, that is asking my taste buds to jump off of a cliff,” I declined with a shake of my head.

            “Oooh brownies!” Dara exclaimed as she sprinted down the stairs.

            Have fun…

            Not ten seconds after Dara had begun chewing Hyoyeon’s creation, her face contorted into an open-mouthed frown of horror.

            “How did you make in block-form?” she asked, gagging on the end of her words before spitting everything in into the garbage can.

            “I don’t know what goes wrong!  I follow the recipe every time, and they always end up tasting like this,” Hyoyeon grumbled.  “It is my Achilles’ heel.  Unfortunately, I have to keep going until I get some form of the brownies right.”

            “How long is that gonna take?” I inquired.

            “I don’t know, but I’ll be keeping my better samples in the fridge, until I make a decent one,” she groaned before taking a seat next to me at the table.  “Are you two ready to get rid of Voldemort?”

            “Unfortunately,” Dara grumbled, also pulling out a chair.

            “Yes,” I sighed with relief.

            Luhan and Kris had attended Exo’s dancing rehearsal last week.  That Friday Luhan had given us a minute-by-minute commentary of everything that had happened (in which there was a lot of squealing over how fluid of a dancer Minseok was).  From this, we were able to deduce a perfect time to strike.  Dara’s and my classes ended right before their rehearsal began, so we had been selected to carry out the mission.  A half an hour into their rehearsal, we would sneak into their locker room, and leave the shirt in one of their backpacks (hopefully, Chanyeol’s), and then we would get out as fast as we had gotten in.

            It would be simple and easy with no complications.

            I hoped.

            “So, who can give me one of the reasons other than Indulgences that the Catholic Church was convicted by reformers during the Protestant Reformation?” Professor Choi asked.

            Professor Choi used to be a very enthusiastic teacher.  Unfortunately for him, Western Civ was a standard class, and the majority of the students that took it did not know or care what was going on.  He had lost his spark the first month into this school year.

            Nobody raised their hands to answer him, so he began to call on random students.

            “Jung Soojung?”

            Soojung, or Krystal, as the entire student body referred to her lazily looked up from her nails that she was filing.

            “The Great Schism.”

            “Very good Miss Jung.  Care to elaborate?”

            “Will you boost my grade?”

            “No-”

            “Then not really.”

            Professor Choi rubbed his brow before looking at his class roster.

            “Yoo Hana, give me another reason.”

            I jolted a little bit at Professor Choi’s order, my cheeks and ears pinking before I opened my mouth to speak.

            “Well, infidelity in the church was a large reason,” I mumbled.

            “Good.  Give us an example, and please speak louder Miss Yoo.”

            I’m trying my best…

            “Well, on the highest tier of the church, Pope Alexander the Sixth and his family, the Borgias, were constantly breaking abstinence, had affairs with married women, and even held, um, ual parties in the Vatican.”

            “Very good, and what did this lead to Miss Yoo?”

            Stop calling on me!

            “Priests and those of lower levels of power within the Catholic Church ually harassing and copying the Pope’s example.”

            “Excellent!  Now-”

            Though everyone in our grade, and the majority of the school knew that Naeun was a genius, and many assumed the same about myself, I did not like walking around, flaunting my knowledge or how many books I could read in a year.  Answering questions, specifically in history and literature classes, made me feel like I was showing off, and that made me feel especially uncomfortable.

            I took a deep sigh before nearly choking on my air.  Park Chanyeol turned around with a big smile and massive outstretched hand on top of my desk.

            Oh.  My.  God.

            “Nice job!” he cheered at a whisper volume.  Sticking out his hand closer to my face.

            I slowly high-fived.

            He winked before turning around.

            My ovaries exploded.

            Don’t think of him like this.  He is currently the enemy – ENEMY.

            But let’s face it, withstanding an Adonis – even if you’ve slept with him and stolen his shirt – is basically impossible.  Even though I knew fraternizing with Chanyeol was a big ‘no,’ mentally admiring him was perfectly okay.

            Besides, it’s not like anything was going to happen between us anyways.

            About 45 minutes later, Professor Choi excused us from class.  I was reluctant to get up and turn around, but I did.  I found next to my backpack exactly what I had expected, a small pile of tampons and a couple of boxes.  I hurriedly shoved the boxes in my backpack, so that Voldemort would be effectively hidden should anybody pass by.  Then, I began packing the tampons.

            I really hope this joke ends soon.  It’s not like I’m going to be on my period the whole month.

            “Do you need any help there, Hana?”

            I shot up from my hunched position like a circus clown from a cannon.  Park Chanyeol was giving me a warm smile and brushing his grey-blue hair out of his eyes.  He adjusted his leather jacket quickly, eyes never leaving my face.

            “I-um-no,” I squeaked, mentally punching myself as I packed the tampons faster.

            Stop acting like Hyoyeon.

            “Well, then could you help me with something?”

            I raised my eyes, he was still there, looking at me.

            “Depends with what,” I said, zipping my backpack, giving him my full attention.  He shifted his feet, his smile brightening a little bit more, causing my uterus to cry a little bit more.

            “Well, I’ve noticed that you’re really smart, and you know what’s going on in this class,” he began, using his large hands for emphasis, “The thing is, I’m not.  I need to raise my grade to get the credits I need, and I was hoping you would tutor me.  Will you help me?”  He gave me hopeful eyes, and in that moment I wanted to launch myself into the Han River.

            I couldn’t help Chanyeol when I needed him to never know that we slept together, and more importantly, that I stole his Frat’s stupid shirt.

            “I don’t-”

            “Of course she will!” Dara’s excited cheer cut me off as she skipped up to my desk, her eyes excitedly dancing between Chanyeol and I.  “Hana loves tutoring people!  She’d be honored!”

            “Really? Awesome!” Chanyeol cheered, starting to leave the room.  “I’ll get your phone number from Jongdae, Hana-ssi.  I’ll text you!”  He left the room with an excited jump.

            “What the , unnie?” I growled.  Dara smiled and interlocked our arms.

            “I ship it, and I want some shirt from that boy in my shrine.”

            “But, what if him or Exo finds out what I did?”

            “Hana, that will all be irrelevant in about two hours.  They will have their shirt back, and therefore, will no longer have anything to hold against you.  Trust me.”

            Dara and I had waited in the bathroom for a half an hour (the majority of this time, she made me rate the boys she had slept with in the past month) before we made our way to the dance studio locker rooms.

            I took a small peek into the room before giving Dara a thumbs up, that yes, the room was void of any Exo members or Luhan and Kris.

            “I’m really sad to give up this shirt.  This would have been the glittering tiara of my shrine.”

            “You’re not even the one that got it,” I deadpanned back in a whisper.

            We walked through the maze of the locker room, looking for Exo’s bags.  I would glare at Dara every few seconds as she continued to hum the Mission Impossible theme song (“it makes us look even more badass”).

            We halted our trek when we found an area, right next to the dance studio, who’s door was unfortunately cracked a hair open, that was filled with backpacks and gym bags.

            “I’ll find Chanyeol’s bag.  You get Voldemort out of my backpack,” I whispered before I went searching.  I recognized Chanyeol’s immediately, and turned back to Dara, who was apparently struggling.

            “Voldemort won’t come out,” she groaned, “I think it’s stuck under a tampon box.”

            “Pull harder.”

            There was a ripping sound, and then Dara turned to me with big eyes.

            She slowly reached into my bag and picked up the shirt, which was now conveniently cut in half.

Hey guys!

I hope you liked this update!

I have just returned from three trips, super duper exciting.

I hope you all are having a wonderful break from school - if you're not on break: YOU CAN DO IT!

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Winnie