Chapter 5: Haerin Yoon

Chapter 5: Haerin Yoon

Dante closed the door to his apartment, leaving behind the weight of his thoughts and the intrusive memories that had tormented him that morning. With a determined glance and a neutral expression, he made his way to the bus stop—the daily transport to get him to school. He did not own a car and had yet to obtain his license, and his independent life forced him to rely on public transportation.

The morning air was fresh, but the tension within him made each step feel heavier. When he arrived at the stop, the bus appeared shortly after, and without hesitation, Dante boarded, taking a seat beside the window. As he traveled, the city passed by like a monotonous backdrop, while his mind wandered elsewhere. He wasn't dwelling on the events of the previous night, the system that now aided him at every moment, or the radical change in his body. No, his thoughts were focused on another figure who, though different, held a certain control over him.

Upon reaching his destination, the bus stopped in front of the school. Dante exited, adjusting his school uniform. As he approached the gate, his gaze landed on a familiar figure waiting for him, as she did every morning: Haerin Yoon, a third-year student and the student council president.

Haerin stood there, arms crossed, her icy and irritated gaze piercing him like a blade of ice. Her long black hair was tied up in an elegant ponytail, and her rigid posture radiated authority and a strictness that few dared to challenge. Dante paused for a moment, observing her as memories of their first meeting began to resurface like a film playing in his mind.

***

It all began on his very first day as a new student at the school...

It was a heavy rainy day, the kind that seemed to mirror the dreariness of the sky in the moods of people. After classes ended, Dante was in the schoolyard, dodging the puddles that formed with every step; he was in a hurry, as usual, with his umbrella already closed in one hand, ready to dart toward the main entrance.

It was then that he saw her for the first time. Haerin was running in the rain, her head bowed to shield herself from the downpour, clutching her books tightly to her chest. Perhaps due to her haste or the slippery ground, she suddenly lost her footing and fell. Without thinking, Dante moved to try to catch her, but fate had other plans.

Haerin stumbled forward, and in the unexpected collision, her head struck violently against Dante's. The impact was strong enough to send them both reeling, and in that brief moment of confusion, their lips accidentally brushed in an unintentional kiss. It was an awkward, rain-soaked kiss, but that contact triggered something far more complex.

Dante immediately recoiled, his eyes wide in surprise and embarrassment, as Haerin looked at him with a mix of disbelief and anger. The entire scene unfolded in front of several students who, instead of offering help, began murmuring among themselves in astonishment at what had just transpired.

"Y... Y-you idiot!" Haerin yelled, her face flushing visibly as she pulled herself up from the ground. The injured pride and humiliation seemed to unleash an unstoppable fury within her. "How dare you?!"

Dante, still dazed and reeling from the blow, stammered an apology, but Haerin wouldn't hear it. From that day forward, he became the primary target of her wrath. That incident—the accidental kiss—had deeply marked her, and she decided that Dante would have to pay for his mistake.

"Take responsibility for that unexpected kiss, got it, you idiot?!"

Every day, Haerin would wait for him at the school gate, demanding he "would take responsibility," even though Dante could never fully understand what she meant. Perhaps it was a form of punishment, or maybe it was simply an excuse to keep control over someone she felt had disrespected her. That fortuitous encounter had sparked a complicated relationship, rife with tension and resentment.

***

Dante returned to reality with effort, trying to shake off the weight of those memories. Haerin's eyes were still fixed on him, and despite his recent physical transformation, he knew that nothing had changed for her. That girl would never look at him differently; she would never see him as anything but the source of her greatest embarrassment.

He approached her calmly, noting every detail of her tense face, her lips pinched in a grimace of disapproval. Dante knew that this morning would be no different from the others. He would face a barrage of unjust accusations, veiled criticisms, and perhaps some subtle attempts to further corner him.

"Good morning, Haerin," he said, attempting to sound cordial, although he knew it would likely be futile.

Haerin stared at him for a long moment before responding, her gaze piercing as if she were trying to decipher what he was really thinking.

"Dante," she began, her tone as cold as ice, "you're late again. How many times do I have to remind you that, as a member of the student council, you should set an example for others?"

Dante sighed internally. This was their routine: she scolded him, he tried to defend himself, and in the end, nothing ever truly changed. But this time, something about him felt different. Perhaps it was the newfound power he sensed coursing through his veins, or maybe he was just tired of suffering in silence. Whatever the reason, Dante decided that this morning he would play by his own rules.

"My apologies, Prez," he replied, using her formal title with a hint of respect that he knew would irritate her. "I'll try to do better next time."

Haerin raised an eyebrow, surprised by his lack of protest or further attempts at an apology. "I certainly hope so," she retorted, a note of suspicion creeping into her voice.

As she turned to leave, Dante afforded himself one last look at her proud figure, always on the verge of exploding. There was something about her that intrigued him, a deeper reason behind her hostility, but this wasn't the moment to dwell on that. Not yet.

That morning, under the clear sky, Dante felt the winds of change stirring. He stood now in front of his high school: a towering structure commanding the street with its austere yet elegant architecture.

Moonsky Academy.

It was a prestigious school, recognized not only for their academic excellence but also for the rigor with which it selected its students. The building, with its red brick walls and tall, narrow windows framed in elegant white trim, emanated a sense of tradition and authority. Above the main entrance, a large tower clock ticked away the moments, reminding everyone of the importance of punctuality.

The entrance featured a broad portico supported by white marble columns that gave the building an almost solemn air. Dark stone slabs covered the floor, reflecting the morning sun and creating dancing shadows that stretched along the interior halls. Dante paused for a moment, observing the flow of students crossing the entrance as they did every morning—some chatting with one another, others eyes fixed on their books.

As he walked inside, the first thing that struck anyone entering was the majesty of the main foyer, a spacious hall adorned with alternating black and white marbles in a geometric pattern. In the center of the room, a grand staircase of dark wood led to the upper floors, where the more advanced classrooms and laboratories were situated. Along the sides, long glass display cases exhibited trophies, medals, and photographs of students who had brought honor to the school in various fields, from academics to sports.

The walls were decorated with portraits of former principals and illustrious teachers, all depicted with stern expressions, as if to signify the effort and dedication required of anyone entering that institution. The ceiling was adorned with large crystal chandeliers that hung elegantly, illuminating the space with a warm and inviting light.

Dante moved with confidence, having traversed those corridors countless times. His footsteps echoed slightly against the marble floor as he approached his classroom. The main corridor branched off in several directions, leading to the wings dedicated to various subjects: science, maths, literature, foreign languages, and so on. Each section had its character, with walls painted in soft colors and heavy wooden doors marked with golden plaques indicating the classrooms.

He turned around the corner and found himself in front of his classroom, located in one of the wings reserved for second-year students. The main door was made of dark, solid wood, with a small square window through which he could glimpse the interior of the class. Dante paused for a moment before that door, feeling a slight tension building within him.

It wasn't just the apprehension about what might unfold inside that made him uneasy; it was the awareness that, despite his newly acquired appearance and impressive abilities, everyday school life still seemed like a minefield of expectations and pressures. He could hear his classmates chatting and laughing on the other side of the door, oblivious to what he had experienced in the past hours, unaware of the change that had transformed him.

He took a deep breath and then placed his hand on the doorknob, ready to enter. Dante was determined not to let himself be overwhelmed, but his mind was already elsewhere, focused on an uncertain future that only the system could unveil.

As he turned the knob and the door began to slide open, a shadow of resolve crossed his expression. Whatever would happen from that moment on, Dante knew he could not turn back. His fate was already sealed.