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sourkiki · 7 days ago

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THE DEVIL WEARS UNIFORM.

SYNOPSIS: With the annual Winter Gala just around the corner, it's a must for students to bring a plus one for the event. It's also the chance for heirs, influencers and future CEOS to make headlines and names for themselves. When a scandaulous rumor erupts, involving Riki's involvement (possibly him being involved with a rival school’s heiress), his image and the Dance Club's sponsorship, is at risk. The Student Council threatens to pull funding unless he clears his name. To save himself, Riki approached you with an outrageous deal: "Pretend to be my girlfriend. We hate one another, right? So this'll be easy." You agreed nonetheless, due to personal reasons. However, things didn't go as planned and you're starting to realise this might be a bad idea. Or was it?

CONTENT: rich kids x fake dating au, college au, dancer! 西村力 x fem! reader, enemies to lovers, reader has family and personal issues, angst, hurt with comfort, tooth-rotting fluff, misconceptions of one another, lots of plot, happy ending, lmk if i miss anything else. wc: 30.6k.

NOTE: i finally finished this... would like to give a special shoutout to @zerocoded and @jun2ki and to everyone in discord server for giving me endless support and some feedback during the progress of writing this fic. i have to say; this is my favorite fic to write and i really like how this turned out. comments and reblogs are appreciated and i hope you enjoy >< tip: i would suggest listening to take my half - beomgyu as this song help me to set the mood for their angst parts (not sorry)

Thud, thud.

The sound of your Mary Jane heels echoed down the polished, marbled corridor of the east wing, your clipboard tucked under your arm. Decelis Academy’s emblem shines proudly on your blazer. Being the president of the student council means a huge responsibility is thrown onto your shoulders, whether you liked it or not.

It also means you’re the face of the academy and you are not allowed to fail or make a mistake, no matter what. Both the principal and teachers put their faith in you. They knew you’re the only one who is capable of running the position and you didn’t want to let them down.

You rounded the corner toward the performance arts hallway, fully prepared to handle whatever minor dress code infractions you might find—untucked shirts, missing pins and loose tins. Nothing unusual. You could get this done even with your eyes closed. Even when you’re prepared like you’re about to head to war, you didn’t expect to see him.

Leaning casually against the opened studio doors with music coming from the studio, Nishimura Riki stood surrounded by a group of dancers. Laughter spilled from their mouths as if the world belonged to them. He stood out the most, due to his height and thanks to that, you were granted a clear view of his lips curled upward, eyes twinkling with amusement at something his friends had said.

“Are you seriously not wearing your uniform again?” You asked sharply, coming to a halt in front of him.

The conversation died instantly. The dancers glanced between the two of you with amused expressions. Riki, in his oversized, graphic black shirt, his tie nowhere to be seen and complete disregard for the rules. He simply looked down at you with that annoyingly lazy smirk. The very smirk that sends girls giggling and into a blushing mess.

Thankfully, you’re not like them.

“Why good morning to you too, President. Fancy weather we’re having today, right? Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

His words earned muffled giggles from the dancers. They zipped their lips when you shot them a cold glare. If looks could kill, some might have dropped dead on the spot. You scowled, taking a step closer. You hated how you had to tilt your head up, mentally cursing him for being so tall when you just reached his shoulders.

“Decelis’ dress code clearly states that full uniforms are required during school hours,” you continued, ignoring the way your fingers itched to slap that smirk off his face. “I’ll change into my uniform if I were you.”

He shrugged. “You can’t expect me to practice in my uniform, can you?”

“I know for sure that your practice starts after school hours and not before.”

Riki arched an eyebrow. “Woah, are you stalking me now? I feel honored, President.”

You exhaled sharply, feeling the familiar twinge of frustration. “You think rules don’t apply to you just because you can spin in the air and land on beat?”

Riki pushed off the wall, leaning down from his waist. “No,” he said, voice low enough for only you to hear, “I think rules are for people who aren’t interesting.”

Behind him, one of his friends let out a low whistle. Another laughed. You forced yourself not to roll your eyes.

“Oh please. You’re not interesting. You’re infuriating. There’s a difference.”

“And yet, you keep showing up to check on me,” he replied easily, reaching out to flick the edge of your clipboard with a finger. “Should I be flattered, or concerned?”

“I’m doing my job, Riki.”

“Sure,” he said, with mock innocence. “Must be exhausting, following me around like this.”

You clenched your jaw. “If you were actually capable of following simple instructions, I wouldn’t have to.”

The tension thickened. A few more students who were walking pass, slowed down just to watch the two of you go at one another’s throats like ferocious dogs. After all, everyone knew that you and Riki hated one another. And it’s not the mild kind of hate. Oh no, this is far more serious. Something that has grown out of control that no one dares to interfere. It’s the kind of hate that consists of eye rolls across the classroom, council-meetings getting interrupted and of course, the infamous “get-him-out-of-my-face” type of hate.

It had been like that since the first year.

You’re the daughter of a perfect, elite family. Riki’s the rich troublemaker who doesn’t seem to give a fuck about the world. He’s simply living his mind carelessly, doing reckless things that often made him gamble with the Grim Reaper, with his life on the line. You, on the other hand, preferred to stick to your schedule and plan. You prefer for things to go your way, for that means you’ll have the highest chance of success.

But, with Riki in your life, that’s easier said than done.

Riki let out a mock sigh, stepping back just a little. “Fine, President. I’ll change into my precious uniform. Wouldn’t want to ruin your little checklist.”

“Good,” you said. “For once, try being decent.”

He grinned. “Decent isn’t fun. You should try breaking a rule sometime.”

And with that, he walked past you, his shoulder brushing yours just enough to be intentional—leaving you fuming, flustered, and five minutes behind schedule.

Again.

Bam!

The door slamming against the wall of the council room echoed, startling the living lights of the members inside. All they needed is one look at you to know you had encountered your enemy before they returned to their respective tasks. Scowling, you stormed to your seat and slammed your clipboard and pen down on the desk, causing the things to jump slightly. You closed your eyes, taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself as you try to think of anything. Anything that isn’t Nishimura Riki. When you’re calm enough, you plop down on your seat and begin looking through the paperwork that requires your attention.

“So what happened today? Did Mister troublemaker get under your skin again?” An amused voice disrupted your temporary peace.

You didn’t raise your head, focused on reading a report that contains an appeal for a sponsorship. “He wasn’t wearing his school uniform. He told me that he had to come in early for his dance practice. Honestly, does he take me for a fool?” You deadpanned, rubbing the space between your eyes.

The pair of girls standing on your left shared a glance before replying. “You know, maybe Riki’s right. You need to let loose a little.”

Hearing this, your head snapped up to your friends: Ningning and Minju. Ningning comes from an insanely wealthy family. Her father runs a business company while her mother is a fashion designer. Getting into Decelis Academy was smooth sailing for her, thanks to her parents’ background. Minju, on the other hand, is the daughter of a talented neurosurgeon and doctor. She had already planned the rest of her life—following her parents’ footsteps and to top it off, she’s extremely smart too.

“What? Are you even hearing yourselves now?” You let out a humorless chuckle, hands resting on the table, “you’re telling me you’re siding with him?”

Ningning pursed her lips. “No, this isn’t about taking sides. This is about us being worried for you, (Name). You’ve been pushing yourself really hard and everytime we ask you to hang out with us, you always decline it.”

Minju nodded in agreement, chiming in. “Yeah, we get that you have to work on the Winter Gala but that doesn’t mean you have to do it alone,” she paused, stepping closer to place a comforting hand above yours and gave you a warm smile, “we’re here for you. Let us help you, please?”

You sighed, intertwined your fingers with Minju’s and gave it a squeeze. “I’m really sorry, girls but there’s still so many things I need to do.”

Their faces fell. Your heart stung at their reactions but you composed yourself, not wanting to give in. Weakness. That’s what you were taught since young. It’s been ingrained into your mind the moment you were born. You were taught the importance of being a leader. To lead a group of people who will listen to your command, like you’re a sergeant, directing loyal soldiers to the battlefield, ready to risk their lives.

You flashed your friends with what you hoped was a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about me. When the whole thing’s over, we can hang out, yeah?”

Ningning parted her glossy lips, about to protest but Minju silenced her by elbowing her side. “Alright, but this time, you better not turn us down anymore. Or we’ll resort to kidnapping you,” she threatened and dragged Ningning away without waiting for your response.

Now that you were alone, you returned to your pending task, knowing you’ll be spending the next two to three hours in the student council room.

By the time you were done, your shoulders and limbs were stiff. You groaned in pain as you cracked them, standing to stretch yourself. The sun was starting to set, dusting the sky in a beautiful, mesmerizing shade of reddish-orange. You packed your things, locked up the room and headed to the main entrance, where your driver was waiting for you. However, you had to walk past the dance studios on your way out—which means there’s a chance of you bumping into Riki again.

As you got closer and closer, the music got louder. You knew you shouldn’t stop to peek inside as your parents are waiting for you at home. But curiosity got the better of you. You ended up stopping by the doors, able to look inside through the small gap. From where you stood, you were given a glimpse of Riki in the middle, leading the dancers as they observed their movements in the mirror before them. The music was a mix of hip-hop and rock. Something that suits Riki well.

What the? Why am I thinking of that?

You blinked, shaking your head to get rid of the thought. You were captivated by how Riki moved his limbs like water, smooth and fluid without missing a single beat. You knew he’s a talented dancer but you didn’t expect him to be this talented. You weren’t sure how long you stood there, Riki being oblivious to your presence until your phone rang, blowing your cover.

Ring, ring! Ring, ring!

“Shit,” you're cursed, frantically whipping your phone out to silence it.

But it was too late.

“Well well well, what do we have here? Miss President watching us through the door after school hours,” Riki’s annoyingly smug voice pierced through the silence as he walked out of the studio, standing directly in front of you like he’s blessing you with his mere presence.

You managed to decline the call but the damage was already done. Not wanting to show your pride was hurt, you stood your ground and tilted your chin to look him right in the eyes. “What do you want, Riki?”

The infamous troublemaker arched an eyebrow. “What do I want? How about you tell me why you were standing here? Shouldn’t you be heading home to your mansion and playing princess with your precious friends?” He sneered and if you listened closely, you could hear disdain in his voice.

“I was about to head home and I had to walk past the studio to reach the main entrance. Don’t let it get to your head,” you retorted, tightening your grip around the strap of your bag.

Riki stepped closer, giving you a faint whiff of his cologne—something woody mixed with vanilla. “Is that so? Run along then, President.”

You scowled, resisting the tempting urge to punch him in the face and stormed off, ignoring how his laughter echoed through the silent hallway. A black limousine was waiting for you when you reached the main entrance, with a man wearing a suit and a pair of sunglasses. He didn’t say anything, opening the backdoor for you with a respectful bow as you got in and closed the door, heading to the driver’s seat and drove off.

The ride back home was silent—the calm before the storm. Even if the moment was short, you were able to get your desired peace and quiet before you reached home.

The air felt suffocating the moment you stepped foot into the mansion. Both maids and butlers bowed when you entered but you paid them no mind. The head butler of the family: Ong Daesung, greeted you as you stopped before him. He bowed, one arm in front and the other neatly folded behind his back.

“Welcome back, Miss. Sir and Ma’am are waiting for you in the dining room. Please, follow me,” he said, not straightening himself until he was granted permission to do so.

You sighed, having foreseen this. “..Fine, lead the way then.”

“As you order, Miss.”

Daesung straightened himself and led you to the dining room. Your bag was handed to one of the maids, who brought it to your room at your request. The duration it takes from the main sector of the mansion to the dining room takes you about ten minutes, due to your home being built on a private plot of land. You have everything and anything a person could dream of. When Ningning and Minju first came over, they nearly fainted at how insanely rich your family is, despite coming from the same lineage as yours.

Knock knock.

“Sir, I’ve brought her as you requested,” Daesung announced after knocking on a pair of closed, pristine white doors.

“Good, let her in and leave us alone,” your father’s muffled voice was heard from the other end. Daesung opened the door, moving aside so you could enter and closed once you were in, his footsteps gradually fading away until you couldn’t hear him anymore.

It’s summer now. The sun glowed behind the tall glass windows, casting gold streaks across the marble floor, but inside—it felt like winter. The air was cold. Not in temperature but in presence. You could feel it instantly: the drop in warmth, the slightest shift in the air, like walking into a room where all the joy had been sucked out. Your fingers instinctively tightened around the hem of your blazer, as if it could shield you from what waited ahead.

At the head of the table sits your father, his posture impeccable. His tailored-made suit is pristine and void of a speck of dust, even in his own home. He didn’t look up at first. He didn’t have to. His very existence commanded control. And beside him sat your mother, dressed in nothing but luxury from head to toe. She’s quiet as always, eyes flickering to you but quickly back to her untouched plate of steak.

You took your seat slowly, wary to avoid dragging the chair too loudly. You didn’t want to break the thin, invisible thread that’s holding the room together.

“So,” your father finally said, tone sharp enough to slice through a frozen slab of butter. “You were late.”

No greeting. No ‘how was your day’. Just judgment, cold and clean. Straight to the point.

“I had student council duties,” you replied evenly, trying to steady your voice. Trying not to show any form of weaknesses. “There was a delay with the new event approvals.”

He hummed. But to you, it sounded more like disapproval dressed in faux politeness.

“Then tell me; why did you decline my phone call?” He continued and your heart dropped.

The air grew colder and for a moment, you swore it’s winter. Still, you held your ground. You didn’t cower, no matter how much your brain was telling you to run.

Run. Run away and never look back.

“I was in the ladies when you called. That’s why I decline it,” you replied, easily lying through your teeth.

Your father chose that moment to look up, unblinking eyes locked onto your face—like you’re a target he’s aiming to shoot. To kill. You didn’t dare to move. Not even breathing. He blinked and looked back down at his half-eaten steak, knife and fork held separately in both hands.

“..I see. I hope you aren’t involving yourself in unnecessary distractions. Your recent grades are not up to standards, especially your Economics. You could’ve gotten a ninety-eight, instead of a ninety.”

You swallowed dryly, curling your hands into fists with your nails digging into the skin of your palms. Beneath the table was considered your safe space in the dining room. Underneath it, you could fidget with your fingers, play with the hem of your skirt and tighten them into fists. Anything to distract or ground yourself. To hold back from showing emotions.

“I’m sorry, I’ll work harder,” you apologized, bowing until your face was hidden from his view.

“Sorry doesn’t mean anything. You’re not like the other students. You don’t have the luxury of mediocrity.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. You have done everything you could—getting the highest marks in your class and cohort, being the head of your year and your latest achievement will be being the President of the Student Council. But it was never enough. Not for him.

Because your father didn’t want a daughter. No, he wanted a successor. A perfect heir. He wants someone to continue his legacy, molding you into a capable CEO and tossing you into a future and a life you want no part of. You didn’t want to spend your life sitting by your desk, attending meetings after meetings and talking to potential business partners.

No, you’ve already had your life planned out. You want to stand in a courtroom, wearing the robes as you passionately defend your client while laying out the evidence you had collected. Your dream is to become a lawyer. You weren’t sure when or how it started but you just knew it.

After what felt like forever, dinner was over and you immediately retreated to the comfort and privacy of your room. Your safe haven. A place where you don’t feel suffocated with every movement of yours being watched like a hawk. Changing out of your uniform, you stepped into the joint bathroom to take a much-needed bath, forgoing the idea of showering as you want to soak in the lukewarm water—a temporary sweet escape from reality.

You got in once the bath bomb had completely dissolved, your body disappearing until only your shoulders, neck and face were visible. Your hair is now soaked, sticking to your drenched skin. Leaning back until your head’s resting against the tiled wall behind you, you stared ahead of you, gradually getting lost in your thoughts. To the public, you’re seen as the ideal student, the role model your juniors should be following and of course, the President of the Student Council. Pulling your knees up to your chest, you rested your chin on your arms, ignoring the way goosebumps formed on your skin.

You did everything you could—pushing yourself over the limit, pulling countless all-nighters and sometimes, forging to take your meals, just so you could get the perfect grades. But no matter how hard you tried, it wasn’t enough for your father. No, it will never be enough for him. His insanely high expectations for you will make anyone faint out of pure horror and disbelief. Sighing and now no longer in the mood to continue bathing, you got out and wrapped yourself in a towel, stepping out of the bathroom.

It took you a span of five minutes to get dressed in comfortable clothes before you sat by your desk, pulling out your study materials and slipping on your glasses.

“Guess it’s time to burn the midnight oil,” you muttered and plunged in without hesitation.

Riki didn’t bother announcing his return, carelessly kicking off his shoes and leaving them by the side. He didn’t even bother arranging them neatly. His bag slung off his left shoulder, nearly slipping off but he managed to readjust it in the nick of time.

Ahem.

They paused, looking forward to seeing their mother glaring down at them from where she stood—the top of the stairs that led to the second floor. She was dressed in a black tight dress that perfectly hugged her body, showing off the curves in the right places. Her hair was pinned in a tight bun, face still covered in make-up—a sign that she had just reached home from her photoshoot of the day.

“Ni-Ki, stop messing around. You’re an adult now,” she reprimanded.

Riki made a show of rolling his eyes, readjusting the strap of his bag and rocked back and forth on the spot.. “Sorry, mother. It won’t happen again.”

The older woman snorted at the evident sarcasm in his voice, climbing down the flight of stairs until she reached the first floor, now standing before him. “You’re the future for the Nishimura Family. When will you wake up and realise that?”

Riki scowled, face hardening. “I’ve told you plenty of times: I don’t want to be a model. I want to be a dancer. That’s my dream.”

“Well, your dream is ambitious! Just because you’re the leader of that silly little dance club doesn’t mean you’ll be a dancer,” she lets out an exasperated sigh, frustrated with her son’s stubbornness.

No matter how many times he had heard it, it still hurts. His heart ached. His jaw tightened and his fists clenched, shoulders borderline trembling as he silently seethed in rage. He was so close to snapping but he held himself back, not wanting to engage in a pointless argument. The woman pursed her lips in a thin line, eyes unable to hide the disappointment. After all, that’s what Nishimura Ni-Ki is to his family—a disappointment, a disgrace for not wanting to continue their legacy.

As always, Riki’s the first to withdraw from their countless arguments. He knew there’s no point in convincing her to change her mind. Once she has something set in stone, it’s futile trying to talk some sense to her.

He scoffed, walking around her to climb up the flight of stairs. “Forget it, you’ll never listen to me. Never.”

“Nishimura Ni-Ki, don’t walk away from me. We’re not done with this conversation,” she called out, furious.

“You’re not done but I am,” he retorted, not turning to face her and heading to his room, purposely slamming the door shut so it echoed throughout their home.

With a heavy sigh, he tossed his bag aside and face-planted into his bed. He pulled out his phone, rolling onto his back to scroll through the countless notifications he received. There were more than a hundred text messages from a group chat he and his friends were in along with some social media notifications as well. He ignores them all, closing his phone and staring at the ceiling.

Ring, ring! Ring, ring!

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he grumbled, annoyed with how he couldn’t get some peace and quiet to himself. One look glanced at the screen tells him it was one of his friends—Sim Jaeyun.

“Hello? If you’re gonna ask me to go to another party, I’ll block you,” he deadpanned.

��What? No, dude. I’m not calling you because of that. Check the gossip’s Twitter account now,” Jake replied.

“Why?” Riki asked, pushing himself up.

“Just check it. It’s better if you see it yourself.”

He frowned at the vague response but before he could say anything, Jake had hung up—much to his disbelief. Riki ended up checking Decelis’ Academy Twitter account, scrolling down and what he saw on the latest tweet made his heart drop.

“What the fuck!?”

It was another regular day in school, with you attending classes after classes and staying behind to work on the Winter Gala. Well, it was supposed to be a regular day but turns out life has some surprises in store for you. The biggest surprise comes in the form of a certain troublemaker barging into the Student Council room during lunchtime. You paused, looking up mid-chew and you’re unable to hold back the annoyed sigh that left your lips at the sight of him.

“Riki, what do you want now? Here to stir trouble?” You asked, leaning back in your seat with your arms crossed with your half-eaten bowl of noodles placed in front of you.

“...I need your help,” he said, looking everywhere else but you. And that’s when you know something’s wrong.

Unlike his usual flamboyant, smug and charismatic self, the Riki in front of you is nervous. He shuffled his shoes on the spot, gnawing on his bottom lip and fiddling with the hem of his leather jacket. Your curiosity and interest was piqued, for you’ve never seen him like this before. Not even once. Not wanting to plunge in without gathering more clues, you decide to lay out the first bait, waiting to see if he’ll bite or flee.

“You look nervous. Did something happen?” You politely asked, unable to hide your faint curiosity and if he heard it, he didn’t do anything to acknowledge it.

Riki ran a hand through his blonde hair, approaching you until he was standing on the other side of your desk. Now that he’s closer, you could tell he was filled with nothing but nervousness. “Have you opened Twitter today?”

You blinked. “Not yet. Why?”

He didn’t verbally explain, choosing to pull out his phone and show it to you instead. You had to lean forward to get a look at the screen:

It was a tweet from @DecelisInsider, the academy’s anonymous but widely followed gossip account. At the top was a blurry photo of Riki and a female student who you recognized—Hana, taken outside the dance studio late at night. To make matters worse, there was the caption:

BREAKING: Looks like Decelis’ Golden Boy isn’t so golden after all. Sources say Nishimura Riki and Hana Bae (yes, that Hana) were caught in a ‘compromising’ situation after hours… More at 6. #DecelisScandal #DanceClubDisaster

Beneath the tweet, there were thousands of likes and dozens of retweets. You didn’t bother clicking on the quote tweets, knowing there are all kinds of reactions—people gossiping, dragging his name, speculating on what happened behind those closed doors and the list goes on.

You looked up at him slowly. “Is this real?”

Riki scoffed, visibly pissed. “Of course not. Someone took that picture at the worst fucking moment. It’s not what it looks like. We bumped into one another and that’s it.”

“You do know she has a huge crush on you, right? And what, now everyone thinks you’re… hooking up with her in the dance room?” You pointed out.

His jaw tightened. “Yeah. And now people are saying I bribed a staff member to unlock the studio for me after hours. They’re also talking about how I’m using Hana to get sponsorship favors.”

You grimaced at that. “Yikes, this isn’t looking too good for you.”

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock. Thanks for pointing that out,” he snapped, only realizing what he said and forced his voice to soften, “I’ve already been told if this escalates further, the funders will pull out. Which means the dance club won’t be able to perform for the competition. And I can’t let that happen. Not because of this stupid, baseless rumor.”

You couldn’t help but flinch at the pure, raw anger in his voice that seemed to take over when he practically spat them out, like they’re venom to him. “Alright, then what do you plan to do? Surely you came here with a solution, right?”

Instead of looking smug, Riki looks way more nervous than he already was—a feat you weren’t sure that’s possible for someone like him. Someone who’s fearless and likes to put his life on the line.

“I need you to be my girlfriend. Fake girlfriend.”

Silence.

“What?” You gaped at him, dumbfounded. Your crossed arms loosened slightly.

Riki ran a hand through his platinum blonde hair, looking stressed and more importantly: uncertain. “Look, this is the only solution I can think of. And, you’re the perfect person for this. Please?”

At this point, he was getting desperate. You crossed your arms, eyes focused on him. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere. And what do you mean by me being the perfect person for this?”

Riki scratched the back of his neck. “It helps by getting her off my back and… you get to stop the rumors that you’re too cold to date anyone.

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

He winced. “People love to gossip about you and me. If we date, it’s a win-win situation. You get to prove that you're not some emotionless council robot, and I get to fix my image before the sponsors pull out.”

You stared at him, stunned. “So, let me get this straight. You’re asking me to be your fake girlfriend to clean up your mess and patch my reputation at the same time?”

Riki hesitated before nodding. “Basically… yes.”

The silence stretched.

Riki’s shoulders sagged in defeat. “You hate me, right? So, you’re not gonna fall for me. And I definitely won’t fall for you. That makes us perfect for this.”

You wanted to laugh at the sheer absurdity of it. You wanted to mock him, taunt him about how he had shoved his pride aside to beg you for help. But the longer you looked at him, the more you could see a boy, desperate for your help. He wasn’t the annoying, smug and loud Riki anymore.

You purse your lips. “...Fine, we’ll do this fake boyfriend girlfriend thing.”

Riki’s face lit up like a light bulb, flashing you a boyish grin. A grin that suits him shockingly well. Well enough to make your heart flutter. “Great! Looking forward to working with you, girlfriend.”

“You’re pissing me off.”

“Ouch, what a romantic person you are.”

News of your relationship spread like wildfire across the entire student body. As you expected, there were a mixture of reactions. Some were dumbfounded. Some were furious that their dream, ideal boyfriend was snatched away by you. Some, on the other hand, didn’t bat an eye and simply minded their business. You wished everyone could be like them but that was just a stupid, unrealistic dream.

Everywhere you went, there were whispers, unsubtle cameras aimed at your direction as they zoomed in on the most crucial part—you holding hands with Riki.

At first, you had slapped his hand away when he grabbed yours without warning, eliciting an amused snort from him. “Woah, relax. I’m not trying to hurt you or something. If we want to pull this off, we have to hold hands in front of everyone.”

“Over my dead body,” you retorted, quickening your pace as you walked through the main entrance, now entering the academy’s grounds. Much to your annoyance, Riki was able to catch up to you easily—one of the perks of being tall.

“C’mon, don’t be like that, babe,” he called out and the sudden usage of the petname made you halt.

“Babe?” You turned around, flashing him an incredulous look, acting as if he had spoken in a different language.

“Yes darling?” Riki beamed down at you, flashing you his signature charming, blinding smile. It’s the type of smile that could make any girl swoon and trip over their feet. Any girl except you.

“You’re so weird. Why did I even agree to this?” You sighed, rubbing the space between your eyes, reluctantly letting him hold your hand.

You ignore how his hand was larger and warmer than yours, the way his calloused fingertips felt against your knuckles. Now, the two of you entered the hallway that’s filled to the brim with students, who paused with whatever they were doing at the sight of you. Among the sea of faces, you were able to spot Ningning and Minju, who were as equally stunned as the others. Ningning’s eyes rapidly darted between you and Riki, mouthing the words to you from where she stood.

“Since when?” She asked.

You shrugged your shoulders, not giving her a solid answer and she scowled. “Tell us the details during lunch.”

You could only nod your head before you were dragged away by Riki. You ended up in the area where your classes are normally held but the same can’t be applied to him.

“Wait, Riki, why did you bring me here?” You asked, finally coming to a stop.

“Why? Is it wrong for me to walk my girlfriend to class now?” He replied with his own question, turning to face you with an eyebrow raised.

“You didn’t have to.”

He blinked. “But I want to.”

And fuck, the way your breath hitched and the way your heart flutter shouldn’t have happened. However, the sweet, little moment shattered at his next words.

“Besides, I’m doing this to keep the act up and—” He paused mid-sentence when he looked ahead of you.

You were about to turn around, wondering what had made him stop talking, only for him to do something that you didn’t expect. Grabbing your chin with his left hand, he wrapped his right arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. Your eyes widened, mindlessly letting him angle your chin to the right angle and then, he kissed you.

Your world turned upside down, the surroundings blurring out the moment you felt his soft lips pressed against yours. There weren't any actions involved but you weren’t sure if you could even survive that. The way his lips felt against yours was just right. Like he’s the final, missing piece to your puzzle. Riki’s eyes were closed while yours were wide open, hands awkwardly resting by your sides—unsure of what to do with them.

Eventually, he pulled away but he’s still close enough for your breaths to mingle. You couldn’t look away, captivated by the current moment. Riki glanced over your shoulder and straightened himself, playfully ruffling your hair—much to your annoyance.

“Wha—hey! What was that for?” You squawked, ducking your head to avoid his persistent hand.

“Sorry, Hana was there and I had to do something to make her go away,” he replied, unaware of how your heart sank at his words.

Right, of course. He only kissed me because of Hana.

You scolded yourself for being delusional to think there was another meaning for his action. “Right, well now that she’s gone. I’m heading in and you should head for your class, or you’ll be late.”

He nodded, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Mm, see you later.” He casually waved you off, acting as if everything was normal. As if he didn’t just kiss you out of nowhere.

You entered the lecture room, taking your rightful seat while pulling out the required materials. Your cheeks turned red as you touched your lips—fingers hovering against it. You couldn’t stop thinking about how his lips felt against yours.

That… That was my first kiss!

While you’re having your first class of the day, Riki too was in the same situation as yours. He sat with his small group of friends at the back of the lecture room. Contrary to what other people may think, Riki does take his studies seriously, even if his dream is to become a dancer. Being a major in business management is a huge contrast to his entire personality. He was in the middle of jotting down notes when Jake nudged his elbow, causing his pen to skid across his notebook, leaving an awkward line behind.

“The fuck?” Riki hissed, glancing at the front to ensure the lecturer wasn’t looking at them.

“Is it true? You’re dating (Name)?” He whispered.

Riki rolled his eyes, facing the front. “Yes, it’s true. Now can you move away? Your bigass head’s blocking my view.”

“Ok, first of all: that’s rude and I’m your hyung. So treat me with some respect,” Jake started nagging at him, the same way with how a mother will nag at her child. Riki simply ignored him.

“Yah, are you even listening to me?”

Sighing, Riki turned to the older and roughly flicked his forehead. His action elicited a dramatic, loud groan that echoed amongst the four walls of the lecture room. The lecturer went silent at the sudden interruption, turning to face them with her eyes narrowed. The students swore they felt the temperature in the room dropped at that moment.

“Sim Jaeyun and Nishimura Ni-Ki, is my lecture boring?” She interrogated the two petrified students.

“N-No, Miss!” They replied in unison, stuttering over their words, gaining some muffled amused snickers from their classmates.

However, their lecturer was not amused. Her eyes hardened and became more narrowed, which wasn’t supposed to be humanely possible. “If I catch the two of you fooling around one more time, you’re out of my class, understood?”

They frantically nodded their heads at lightning speed. “Understood!”

Safe to say, the two of them were on their best behavior for the rest of the lesson. However, that doesn’t mean Riki’s off the hook. When it was lunchtime, Riki planned on heading to the other end of the academy—where your classes are normally held, only to be stopped by someone who is blocking his path. He didn’t even manage to get out of his seat while his friends were waiting by the front door, obviously eavesdropping on his conversation.

Riki sighed, already feeling a headache coming his way. “Hana, what do you want?”

She crossed her arms, lips coated in a bright shade of pink pursed in a thin line. Her manicured nails tapped away on her forearms. “Is it true?”

“What are you talking about?” He sighed for the second time.

Hana scowled, eyes flashing in anger and something else. Something unreadable. Maybe it was disappointment. Maybe it was frustration. Whatever it was, Riki wants nothing to do with her. But he came to a realization early on that no matter how hard he tried to push her away, Hana kept sticking to him. Like an annoying pest.

“Don’t play dumb, Riki! Is it true that you’re dating (Name)?” She raised her voice, her words bouncing off the four walls of the now fairly vacant lecture room.

“So what if it is? What are you gonna do about it?” He deadpanned, feeling a twinge of satisfaction at the sight of her surprised face. Riki grabbed his bag, slung it over his left shoulder and walked around her, only to be stopped as she grabbed onto his wrist.

“Let go of me,” he snapped, roughly snatching his hand away from hers.

“I know it’s fake. The two you could barely tolerate breathing in the same air as one another. Do you really think you’re able to outplay me?” Hana smirked, the way he paused didn’t go unnoticed by her sharp eyes.

“I wonder what’ll happen if I tell the funding organization that the Golden Boy of the dance club tried laying his hands on an innocent, vulnerable girl. I can only imagine what’ll happen if they were to find out.”

Riki sees red. He spun around, stomping towards Hana and used his towering height to his full advantage as he loomed over her. “Listen here, you bitch. Just because you’re the daughter of the principal doesn’t mean you can go around causing trouble. I know you’re doing this because you want my attention. But guess what? You’ll never have it, no matter what.”

Hana cowered under his intense, piercing gaze. Her lips pathetically wobbled and she was about to speak but Riki had left the classroom, ignoring his friends who were waiting for him.

“Wha—hey! Where you going!?” Jake called out.

“To find my girlfriend!” Riki shouted, not turning around as he made a sharp turn on his left, teeth grinding down on one another.

The moment your class ended and you finished packing your things, Ningning and Minju were quick to jump on you as they bombard you with questions. They dragged you to the cafeteria, managing to find an empty table and forced you to sit.

“Alright, spill. Don’t leave anything out,” Minju demanded, with Ningning eagerly nodding along in agreement.

“What’s there to spill? Riki and I are dating now,” you answered, the words sounding foreign even to you.

“Yeah and pigs can fly,” Ningning retorted, leaning forward slightly like she’s interrogating you for a crime you have committed, “I know you, (Name). You literally hate that guy to the point you can’t stand being near him. And now, you expect me to clap for your relationship like there wasn’t centuries worth of beef between the two of you?”

You have to admit, hearing those words from someone else’s mouth does make your relationship sound even more fake and unbelievable. But, a deal’s a deal and you aren’t the type of person to back out from it, not when both parties have agreed on it. You certainly aren’t the type of person to throw Riki under the bus while pretending it wasn’t your problem either. Hence, you have no choice but to casually shrug your shoulders.

“We talked about it and it turns out it was all just a misunderstanding,” you replied, the words sounding more and more awkward coming from your mouth.

Ningning and Minju shared a confused glance before Minju spoke up. “Alright, blink twice if you’re held hostage by Riki.”

You didn’t blink.

They gasped. “Wait, so you’re not lying?”

“I didn’t say anything about lying,” you pointed out.

“Ugh, you’re right,” Ningning grumbled, lips curling down in a scowl, “well, congrats on your relationship then. He better treat you well or else—”

“Or else what? You gonna punch me in the face or something?” A familiar, amused voice interrupted your conversation.

Looking behind, you were greeted with the sight of your boyfriend—fake boyfriend blessing the three of you with his presence. Riki didn’t sit beside you. Instead, he grabbed your bag and gently tugged you out of your seat, careful to not make you tripped. At this point, everyone in the cafeteria had their eyes on you.

“Where are we going?” You asked, stunned.

Riki leaned in, having to lower himself so he could whisper into your ear. To the public, some might assume he’s whispering sweet nothings to you. But that wasn’t the case. You had to ground yourself, goosebumps forming on your skin at how his warm breath grazes against your skin with every word.

“I need to talk to you. It’s about Hana.”

You jerked your head back, eyes widening slightly at the mention of her. Riki nodded, as if he could understand the questions you have in mind. He didn’t give you time to reply, already dragging you out of the cafeteria, leaving your stunned friends behind, watching as your retreating figures get smaller and smaller.

Riki ended up bringing you to the open-aired garden where there weren’t lots of students but it’s safe enough for the two of you to talk, without anyone eavesdropping. He stopped at an empty table with some trees acting as shelter and you sat down, crossing your arms. He immediately dropped the act, releasing his hand from yours as he sat opposite of you.

“She knows.”

“Knows about what?”

“Knows about us, dumbass,” he retorted, ignoring the offended glare you threw at him.

“How? Did you tell her” You questioned him.

Riki shots you an incredulous look, throwing his hands up. “Really? Do you think that low of me? Just because I flirt around doesn’t mean I have a loose mouth.”

Your face burned in embarrassment. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Whatever,” he dismissed your response with a mere flick of his hand, “if you’re wondering, she approached me after class. She said about how she knew our relationship’s fake and how if this continues…” His voice trailed off, his eyes darkening in anger.

“And if this continues?” You repeat his words.

“...She’ll contact the funders and tell them to pull out,” he finished.

Silence.

Your arms dropped, surprise flickered across your face. “Does she even have the powers to do that?”

Riki scoffed, rolling his eyes as he leaned back in his seat. “She’s the precious, spoiled daughter of the principal here. Of course she can do that. She can do anything and her daddy won’t even bat an eye.”

You cringed at the word ‘daddy’ but didn’t say much. “Well, this is quite serious. We need to do something, to prove that we’re really dating.”

“Didn’t know you like me that much.”

“No, you moron. I’m doing this to save my reputation," you snapped but he merely chuckled.

“Alright, President. What do you have in mind?”

As expected, the posts you and Riki uploaded on social media took the Internet by storm. It blew up within the first thirty minutes after it was posted. Heck, even the gossip account had posted something as well:

Your posts blew up to the point that even your family had seen it. To say your father was furious would be an understatement. He didn’t bother announcing his arrival to campus, appearing without warning after school hours. The man headed to the one and only place where you spend most of your time at��the student council room.

BAM!

He barged into the room without knocking, slamming the doors open so hard it smacked against the wall, trembling as it swung forward from the harsh force. You visibly flinched, startled as you were in the middle of working on the Winter Gala. Raising your head, your face turned as white as a ghost at the sight of your father. His jaw tightened, shoulders trembling from poorly restrained anger and for a moment, you swore you saw steam coming out from his ears.

You couldn’t move, muscles going limp at the sight of him standing in the same room as you. You’ve never expected him to be here—in the student council room after school hours. As far as you remembered, this was the first time he had stepped into the academy’s grounds. But it wasn’t for the right reasons.

“Father, I—” You spoke up, rising from your seat but he cut you off.

“Silence. You’ve been fooling around with a boy behind my back?” He said in a slow, unusually steady tone and continued, “I sent you here to succeed, to lead, to represent our name with dignity. Not to fool around with some random, incompetent boy,” he snapped, voice dangerously low.

Your heart dropped. He knew. Or at least, he thought he did. Your father doesn’t know the truth and the lie. That your relationship was nothing but a mere facade. A performance with the two of you being the lead cast and the cohort being the performers. You didn’t want to tell him, which was why you had no choice but to remain silent. But your silence holds a meaning behind it. The meaning that it’s nothing but the solid truth.

“Is this how you repay me for everything I’ve done for you?” He seethed, stepping closer. And closer. Every step he takes means you’re closer to the awaiting arms of death. Of his anger.

“Sarcifies, opportunities—everything handed to you on a silver platter, and you threw it away for some lovey-dovey romance with a delinquent dancer?”

Your hands curled into fists, shoulders trembling like fallen leaves. Your nails dug into the soft flesh of your palms, hard enough to leave indents behind. You wanted to say something. Anything. That it wasn’t what it looked like. That this wasn’t real. Nothing about this is real. And most importantly, that you are still the perfect child he wanted you to be.

But something in your throat locked up. You couldn’t even breathe properly, let alone utter a single word. It’s times like these where you get reminded of the sheer power your father has, just from his presence alone. You have witnessed it firsthand, when you had paid him a visit at his office. The way he commanded the room filled with higher-ups, who had more power than him, was enough to send shivers down your spine. And it wasn’t in a good way.

And then, you saw it.

His hand lifted. It was just an inch or maybe two. You weren’t sure.

But it’s enough to make your instincts spike in fear. But he didn’t manage to take another step closer.

“Hey.”

Riki’s voice cut through the thick tension like a sharpened blade. He strode into the council room without hesitation, his usual smirk nowhere to be found. It was replaced with a serious look—a look you rarely see in him. He grabbed your father’s wrist—firmly, but without aggression—and boldly locked eyes with him. You could see your father struggling to free himself but it was futile. Riki’s strength easily overwhelms him and he merely tightens his grip around his wrist, tight enough to earn a pained hiss from your father.

“I don’t care who you think you are,” he said, voice laced with steel, “but you don’t get to touch her. Not on my watch.”

Your father froze, his gaze snapping to Riki in disbelief.

“She’s doing everything she can to make you proud. She’s working harder than anyone in this goddamn school, to earn your acknowledgement and attention. So, if you have a problem with her not being a machine, then the problem’s on you. Not her.”

You stared at Riki, taken aback with what he said. No one has talked back to your father before. Not like this. Not your mother and not even you. The room was filled with tense silence. It was so quiet that for a moment, you feared they might be able to hear your heartbeat.

“Tch.”

Your father yanked his arm out of Riki’s grip, his face red with fury with veins protruding from his forehead. But he said nothing. He merely turned, straightened his jacket and walked out, not sparing you a second glance. The moment he was gone, your knees wobbled. Your strength has left your body. You collapsed to the chair behind you, hands trembling violently as you gripped the edge of the desk like it was your final lifeline.

Riki didn’t say anything. His eyes remained fixated on you, observing you.

And just like that, the final dam broke.

Your chest heaved as a choked sob escaped your throat, and once it started, you couldn’t stop it. The tears came hard and fast, blurring everything in front of you as you buried your face in your hands.

“I-I hate him,” you gasped out between sobs. “I hate how he looks at me like I’m never enough… like I’m always one step away from being a disappointment.”

Riki knelt beside you slowly, careful, like approaching a wounded animal.

“He doesn’t see how hard I try,” you cried. “He never does. I’m breaking myself to fit into this mold he made for me and it’s still not enough. Nothing is ever enough.”

Your voice cracked at the end, bottom lip quivering with warm, fat and salty tears rolling down your cheeks. Your breathing grew shallow and uneven, as you struggled to breathe. And then, you felt it—Riki’s warm, large hand covering yours.

You looked up at him with your red, swollen and teary eyes. He didn’t flinch at the sight nor did he pull away from you. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

“But, this isn’t…me. I’m not supposed to be like this. I’m being we—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” he interrupted you, voice laced with firmness, “showing emotions doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you’re human and humans feel things. They laugh when they find something funny. They cry when they are upset. It’s these emotions that make humans… well, humans.”

He paused, looking at you with gentleness. The sight was enough to make your breath hitch. You’ve never seen him like this before. Relaxed and at peace. Something you’ve never thought the reckless and impulsive Riki will be.

“That’s why I told you that you need to break a rule here and there.”

His words managed to crack a weak smile and a watery choke from you. “I don’t think that applies here but sure,” you croaked out, wiping your tears away as you sniffled, the sound seemingly loud in the quiet council room.

Riki chuckled, withdrawing his hand from yours and stood up, straightening himself. You weren’t sure why but your hand twitched, tempted to grab his hand but you stopped, not wanting to make a fool of yourself. “Well, I guess that’s that then. And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about what happened.”

Your shoulders sagged with relief. “Thanks, Riki. You know, maybe I’ve misjudged you.”

“Oh?” He arched an eyebrow expectantly.

Your face flushed red when you realized what you had said. “I-I mean, you’re not a bad person! I’ve always assumed you’re someone who…”

“Go on.”

At this rate, it’s pointless trying to back out and you rush through the remaining words at breakneck speed, speaking without pausing or breathing. “I’ve always assumed you’re someone who doesn’t care about the rules, living your own life while being true to yourself. And I’m jealous of you.”

Riki stares at you, shocked to hear that. You swore you saw something flickered in his eyes but it was gone when he blinked. And he was back to himself, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. “You? Jealous of me? I doubt so, President. I mean, you’re…you and I’m just me. There’s nothing to be jealous of, really.”

If you strained your ears, you’ll be able to hear the faint self-loath in his words. You opened your mouth, wanting to say something but you paused. What could you possibly say in these kinds of situations, to make the other party feel better? You aren’t someone who’s great at comforting people with words in the first place. You’ve learnt the way of bottling up your feelings rather than talking to someone about it. Sure, it wasn’t a healthy coping mechanism but you’ve lived long enough with it.

Riki took your silence as a response, nodded slowly and turned to walk out of the council room. He paused by the doorframe, looking over his shoulder to your face, with his bangs shielding his eyes. “By the way, I think you look kinda cute after crying.”

Just like that, he disappeared from your sight, leaving a flustered and embarrassed you behind.

“And…time’s up! Alright everyone, that’s all for today!” The dance club’s instructor announced, clapping her hands.

The moment they heard that, everyone collapsed to the floor, all sweaty with their clothes sticking to their skin. Some were quick to pack their things, scrambling out of the studio, thrilled to head home. Riki groaned, plopping down onto the wooden floor, leaning against the wall behind him with his long legs stretched out before him. He downed the remaining content in his water bottle in one go, clicking his tongue in dissatisfaction when it did nothing to quench his thirst.

The dancer tilted his head back, gently resting it against the wall so he could stare at the ceiling, letting the lights blind his vision. It’s been three days since he saw you cry in front of him. No matter what he does, his mind keeps wandering back to you. It’s like you’ve been ingrained in his memory and there’s nothing he could do about it. Whenever he closes his eyes, he’s always greeted with the same scene.

You speaking through your tears as you break down. Your entire body trembling like a fallen leaf. But what struck him the most was the look in your eyes. It was fear. Pure fear and he knows that look very well, for he had gone through the same thing. It’s the type of fear that one will have whenever they are told they will never be good enough. It’s the type of fear that one will have in a suffocating household—a household that only cares about success, fame and nothing else. Nothing more and nothing less.

“Dude, what’s gotten into you?” One of the dancers asked, shaking him out of his train of thoughts.

Riki blinked. “Huh?”

“You’ve been acting weird lately. Like you’re always lost in your own thoughts,” one of the dancers pointed out, the others nodding in agreement, “wait, don’t tell me you got a crush on a girl?”

“Idiot, he’s dating (Name). He’s not like you,” another dancer retorted, playfully smacking the back of his head with his hand.

Riki rolled his eyes, raising his left leg so he could rest his arm on his left knee. His right leg remained laying on the floor. “He’s wrong about one thing: I’ll never be like you guys, who thinks cheating on your partner is fun. It’s not. It only makes you the worst of the worst.”

The two guys shared a look while the others who were still in the studio, did a poor job of concealing the fact that they are listening in. “Woah, dude, chill. We were just joking around—”

Riki rose to his full height, hovering over them who were seated on the floor. “Joking around? That’s not something you should be making fun of. It’s wrong and you’re not being considerate of your partner’s feelings!”

They’ve never seen him like this, too used to him being sarcastic, chill and sometimes, too laid-back. But this? This was different. It’s like Riki had become a whole different person.

“Do you even realize what that kind of behavior does to someone?” Riki’s voice rose, shaky now, like it was fighting against the storm inside him. “Do you know what it feels like to give someone everything, only to find out it was a joke to them? That they never cared about you at all?”

Silence.

At this rate, everyone left in the studio were watching them. Some had stopped packing. Some had stopped stretching. But most importantly, everyone had stopped talking. Their eyes were on him, watching him like he’s the lead performer of the stage.

He stepped forward, fists clenched at his sides, breathing hard as if he was trying to force the words out.

“You think it’s cool to cheat? To lie? To mess around like it doesn’t mean anything?” he spat. “It does mean something. And the person you’re with? They’re not just some placeholder for your ego.”

One of the dancers felt guilty for his words. “Riki, I—”

He shook his head, bending to snatch his bag and belongings off the floor. “Forget it, I’m not doing this today.”

Riki left the studio, both heart and soul filled with nothing but a mess of feelings he couldn’t understand. Not yet, anyways.

When he reached home, only to see a familiar pair of shoes resting by the door, anger flowed through his veins. Thankfully, Makoto wasn’t home as she will be staying over at her friend’s home for a sleepover, leaving him alone to deal with his mother’s boyfriend. Riki wordlessly made his way to the kitchen, scoffing under his breath when he walked past them. His mother and her boyfriend—Sip Woojin, were in the living room with their backs facing him. This saves him the revolting sight of having to witness them sucking one another’s faces.

As he was hungry, he decided to make a quick, simple but fulfilling dinner—Kimichi Soup with rice. There were enough ingredients left in the refrigerator and he got to work, wearing his Airpods to both cancel out their voices and so he could focus on cooking. He was in the middle of dumping a generous portion of kimchi into the pot when someone tapped his shoulder, disrupting his concentration.

Riki looked over his shoulder, only to see it’s none other than Woojin standing behind him with a friendly smile on his face. The sight of it made him scowled, not bothering to hide his displeasure towards the older man. “What do you want? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Woah, calm down. I’m not here to cause trouble or anything,” the man lets out a hearty laugh, even having the audacity to rest his hand on Riki’s shoulder, who flinched at the touch.

“Don’t touch me,” he snarled like a ferocious cat, stepping back from Woojin, not wanting to stand anywhere close to him.

Woojin sighed, remaining where he was while Riki continued adding a mixture of ingredients into the soup: some sliced-up tofu, prawns and the list goes on. Being a dancer requires him to keep an eye out on his diet. He goes to the gym during the weekends to work out as well, giving him a slight fit body build.

“Look kid, I’m trying my best here but this isn’t going to work if you keep acting like this.”

Riki paused, turning off the stove once the soup came to a boil and he left the lid on. He fully turned to face the man, nothing but evident annoyance written all over his face. “What the fuck do you even want with me? I’m not interested to have you in my life. Just because you managed to charm my mother doesn’t mean your stupid little antics can work on me.”

He spat, venom seeping into his voice. Riki took a step closer, the atmosphere in the kitchen turning darker when his eyes hardened. “I hope you know that I’ll never accept you as a father. Over my dead body.”

Riki didn’t give him a chance to reply, grabbing a bowl and filling it with rice that he had dumped into the rice cooker previously. He didn’t want to have his dinner in the same space as his mother and Woojin. Hence, he grabbed a tray so he could carry it that holds the pot, rice and his utensils. Woojin was still standing there, an unreadable expression on his face. Riki scoffed, purposely roughly bumping his shoulder against his while he’s on the way out of the kitchen.

“Nishimura Ni-Ki, stop right there.”

Great, fuck my life.

He rolled his eyes, not turning around so his back was facing his approaching mother. He already knew she had the standard expression on her face—frustration and disappointment.

“What?” He lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Have your dinner in the dining room. Your father and I—”

Riki whirled around at breakneck speed. It’s a miracle he didn’t spill any of the Kimchi soup he made. “He’s not my fucking father.”

“Silence! Just go to the dining room and sit down. We have something important to tell you,” she snapped, voice firm, leaving no room for arguments.

Her son had no choice but to oblige, heading to the dining room where Woojin was already seated, pouring himself a cup of freshly brewed tea. Riki sat at the other end of the table, not wanting to be anywhere close to them. His mother strolled in and Riki felt sick to the core, watching as her face softened in adoration as she took her seat opposite of Riki. Woojin silently slides a cup towards her, to which she gratefully nodded her head and rested her hand above his.

Ahem.

“Can we just get this done and over with? I don’t have all day,” he interrupted, cutting their sweet moment short.

The two adults shared a glance and his mother spoke up, hands cupped around her teacup. “Riki, Woojin and I will be getting married at the end of the year, after your Winter Gala.”

His eyes widened. The pair of chopsticks held in his dominant hand slipped from his grasp, dropping to the marbled floor with a series of loud clattering sounds but he didn’t hear it. He stared at her, searching for her expression for any sign of hesitation. But there was none. Only the warm, tender gaze of a woman who looked like she truly believed this was something to celebrate.

Riki’s jaw tightened, his free hand curled into a fist underneath the table while Woojin calmly sipped his tea, like he hadn’t just detonated a bomb in his life.

“You’re fucking what?” Riki finally choked out, voice sharp with disbelief.

His mother opened her mouth, probably to repeat herself but he already stood up, chair scraping loudly against the floor.

“You’re marrying him?” He gestured toward Woojin with a flick of his hand, eyes burning. “Seriously? You’re just going to throw everything away for someone like him?”

“Riki—” she began, but he cut her off with a bitter laugh.

“No, don’t ‘Riki’ me right now. Do you even know what you’re doing?” His voice cracked slightly, equal parts rage and hurt. “You’re just pretending like none of it matters. Like Dad never mattered. Like this whole fucking family doesn’t matter.”

“Your father’s been gone for years,” she said softly, but he recoiled like her words were poison.

“And? You can’t just toss Dad aside and replace him with someone like…that!” Riki shouted at the top of his lungs, furiously pointing at Woojin, who was still silent as he observed the scene from the sidelines.

“Riki, he makes me happy and I want to be happy. Why can’t you understand that?” His mother sighed, exhausted with the constant arguments between her and her son.

“This isn’t about you wanting to be happy. This is about you being selfish. It’s clear you don’t and never have gave a fuck about me,” he snapped, heaving to catch his breath and he rose from his seat, snatching his tray off the table.

“I don’t care what you want to do from now on. Just leave me the fuck alone.”

He said, sparing them one final glance before storming out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the hallway like thunder. He sat by his desk, devouring the meal he made in the span of fifteen minutes. The only evidence was a clean pot and bowl, with not a single grain of rice or a spoon worth of spoon left behind. Riki’s initial plan was to spend the rest of his night gaming away but he was no longer in the mood after his mother’s sudden wedding announcement. He didn’t want to stay at home.

Which was why he pulled out his phone and immediately called his friend.

“Hello?”

“Jake, let’s go to a club and get wasted.”

One moment Riki was in his room and the next moment, he’s in a club that’s filled to the brim with people. His small group of friends: Jake, Heeseung and Jay were delighted at the invite as it’s been a while since the four of them had hung out together. The four of them managed to snag a table so they could sit and drink to their heart’s content, without worrying about stumbling into random people. Among the four of them, Heeseung has the lowest alcohol tolerance. It only takes him two shot glasses for him to be drunk, giggling to himself here and there. Jay won’t be drinking, as he had to drive the other two home, opting for a can of soda instead.

“So, what happened?” Jay asked, unfazed even when Heeseung rested his head on his shoulders, his cheeks dusted in a light, adorable shade of pink.

“What?” Riki blinked but Jay shot him a knowing look, leaning back in his seat with his legs stretched out before him.

“The only time you join us for clubbing is when you’re feeling down. So what happened?”

“Not—”

“Don’t say it’s nothing. Because it surely isn’t nothing, not with how you’ve downed ten shot glasses back to back,” Jake chirped in, pointing at the empty shot glasses that were on the table.

Riki sighed, running a hand through his hair. “...My mom’s getting married to her stupid boyfriend.”

Jake and Jay shared a bewildered look. Being the more sensible and responsible person of the two, Jay spoke up, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed in a thin line. “Shit, man. We’re sorry about that. What was your reaction?”

“I was against it. I told her she’s doing this for herself and not for the family. Not for me and not for Makoto,” he barked out a humorless laugh, “it was only one year since Dad passed away and she’s already found someone. Now she expects me to welcome Woojin with open arms? Hell no. He can fuck off for all I care.”

He downed another shot glass after he finished. Right now, Riki feels like he’s tethering between the border of drunk and tipsy. His mind feels fuzzy and his body feels lightheaded, despite how he’s seated and not moving about.

“Riki, I think that’s enough. Anymore shots and you’ll be drunk,” Jake warned him but Riki waved off his words.

“It’s fine, I can keep going.”

It didn’t help with the fact that Jake sees Riki as a younger brother, always willing to agree with him. Jay could only watch helplessly, rubbing the space between his eyes as his two friends kept going for multiple rounds after that, like there was no tomorrow.

Ring, ring! Ring, ring! Ring, ring!

You were in the middle of making notes when your phone started ringing. Not bothering to check the screen, you accepted the call and put it on speaker mode.

“Hello?”

“Hey uh, are you busy?”

You heard a hiccup after the question, making you pause to bring your phone closer to you. You don’t recognize the string of numbers reflected on the screen, making you furrow your eyebrows. “Who’s this?”

“Whaaa, you don’t recognize me? It’s uh, what’s my name again? Oh, right! It’s Riki, starting with the letter R!” His words are borderline slurring but you were able to comprehend him, if you focused hard enough.

That’s when you were able to hear the faint loud booming music in the background on the other line. “Riki, are you drunk?” You asked, despite already knowing the answer.

“Nooooo… maybe a little. Maybe a lot but don’t be mad.”

You closed your eyes, breathing in and out to swallow the rising anger. “Why are you at the club? Don’t you have classes tomorrow?”

“Do I? I’m not sure… but I just wanted to call you.”

“Why? And more importantly, how did you even get my number?”

You could hear a muffled giggle from him, able to visualise him swaying on unsteady feet in the club while trying to maintain the current conversation with you. You put your pen down, no longer in the mood to continue your task as you leaned back in your comfortable chair, idly spinning it side to side.

“Doesn’t matter. What matters more is I wanna—hic—hear your voice.”

Your heart stopped for a solid second at his words. But you shook your head to get rid of the thought. After all, he’s drunk and you’re certain he won’t remember a thing when he wakes up tomorrow, with a horrible hangover.

“You don’t know what you’re saying. Riki, where’s your friends? Or did you go there alone?” You sighed, feeling stressed on his behalf. You don’t even know why you are feeling like this. Sure, you may be in a fake relationship with him but that doesn’t mean you have to care about him like this. Like you’re actually his girlfriend.

“I dunno.. think they’re probably somewhere else. What was I saying? Oh yea, my mom. She—hic—is getting married to some fucking douchebag at the end of the year.”

Your heart dropped, not expecting him to dump a huge bomb on you out of nowhere.

“She told me like it’s some happy thing. Like she wants me to be happy and proud of her,” he continued, words pouring out now, drunken and unfiltered, “like—hic—’oh, Riki. it’s after your Winter Gala’—like it’s not a big deal or something.”

You stayed silent, letting him pour his heart out while you listened attentively. This is the first time you’ve heard another side of Riki. Another side that no one, except you, knew and heard of.

“His name’s Woojin,” he bitterly laughed, no humor heard in it, “I fucking hate him. The way he—hic—treats me, like I’m some kind of auction item to be won over, makes me annoyed. Who the fuck does he think he is? He—hic—came waltzing into my life like nothing happened. Like Dad doesn’t still exist in the house—hic—and he thinks he can replace him.”

Your eyes widened slightly at the newly-gained piece of information. “Riki—”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just…” He lets out a long, heavy sigh and you can hear nothing but exhaustion in it, “I just wanna share it with someone. Someone who won’t judge me and accept me as who I am.”

Pursing your lips, you glanced at the clock resting on your table, to see it’s close to midnight. “...Riki, you should head home and get some rest. Trust me, all you need is a good night's sleep and you’ll be feeling better the next day.”

“Noooo, I wanna continue talking to you. Your voice’s soothing,” he whined, sounding like a child. For some reason, you can imagine him as a cute, little duck when he pouts.

Embarrassingly enough, your cheeks flushed red at his words. You were grateful that he wasn’t around to see it, or he would’ve teased you to the point of no return. Clearing your throat, you spoke to him in a calm, patient tone. Like how a mother speaks to her child.

“Riki, seriously, you need to rest.”

“Why does it sound like you’re pushing me away? Do you hate me?” He asks, his voice growing softer but it’s still audible enough for you to hear it. Audible enough for you to detect the sadness in his voice.

“No, Riki, I don’t hate you,” you replied, the word ‘hate’ sounding all foreign and awkward on your tongue.

“Hic—R-Really? You don’t?” He mumbled and your heart tightened in pain and pity. Pain because he doesn’t sound sure of your response. Pity because well, you pity him for what he had gone through during his childhood to develop some kind of distrust of the people around him.

“No, I really don’t,” you murmured, voice as light as a feather. Your ears registered some buzzing sounds followed by different voices before an unfamiliar voice spoke on the other end.

“Hello, (Name)? Sorry for interrupting your call but this is Jay. I’m a friend of Riki’s and just wanna let you know that I’m taking him home now—Stop pulling on my arm!” He briefly introduced himself, pulling the phone away from his ear to yell at someone.

You were unable to stifle the chuckle, nodding your head. “Alright, thanks for letting me know. Good luck trying to bring Riki home.”

“Ugh, don’t even remind me. And if you’re curious to know more about his background, you should ask him, face-to-face.”

You blinked, parting your lips but Jay had already hung up, leaving you to stare at the screen in curiosity as you pondered on the unspoken implications behind his words.

The following day, you arrived at Decelis Academy with one motive and only one. There were no classes for the rest of the week as the school holidays are coming. As expected, more than half of the student body had skipped school, choosing to fly to different countries instead. Your family didn’t have the time and luxury to spend the holidays together, due to your father being busy as always and you couldn’t rely on your mother either, who’s rarely at home. You didn’t want to know what she could be doing behind your back. It’s not like you care about her in the first place.

You head to the council room, dreading what you have to deal with, only for you to pause when you see Riki sitting at your desk, like he owns the place. He had his long legs resting on the table, with him leaning back to the point you actually hoped he fell. His eyes were fixated on his phone, giving you the chance to admire him while he’s distracted.

You start from the top, watching how some strands of his blonde hair hovered over his eyes. He has a variety of earrings displayed on his ears, ranging from the small-sized, metallic rings to a pair of pins on both helixes. Your eyes trailed down his face, noting how his features are unusually sharp, like both Gods and Goddess had taken their precious, sweet time into creating the most perfect human being in the world.

He wasn’t wearing the school uniform properly, as expected from him. His shirt was untucked, the hem haphazardly peeking out from the blazer. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, high enough to show off the veins on his forearms. The blazer was nowhere to be seen, which made you roll your eyes. His tie hangs loosely by his neck, the knot on the verge of slipping. Heck, there’s also a silver chain resting against his collarbones like it lives there.

Your eyes moved further down, lingering longer than usual on his long, slender fingers that were currently holding his phone in a gentle grip. His fingers were dressed in chunky rings, a mix of matte black and polished metal that glimmered underneath the sunlight that’s coming in from the windows on his right.

You’ve never stopped to think about his appearance, always too busy nagging at him, telling him to wear his blazer properly or bickering with him, like the typical married couple. But now, you’re alone in the room with him. Riki hasn’t shown any signs of being aware of your presence. It’s quiet, almost peaceful. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the sight before you. The sight of Riki being quiet, thumb moving up and down as he scrolled through whatever platform he was on.

And then it hits you—Nishimura Ni-Ki is insanely attractive.

“How long are you planning to keep staring at me?” His infuriating smug voice snapped you out of your state.

You blinked, cheeks warming up when you were caught red-handed. “Why are you here?”

“I was waiting for you, President,” he answered, removing his legs from the desk and plopping it onto the floor with a loud ‘thud’, “you’re coming to Japan with me for four days.”

Your eyes widened a notch, jaw dropping. You couldn’t believe what you had just heard, hoping your ears were playing tricks on you. But Riki wasn’t joking. He didn’t laugh or tease you. Instead, he waited for your reaction, having risen from his seat with hands shoved in the pockets of his pants.

“W-What?”

Riki shrugged his shoulders. “My dad wants to meet you. I’ve told him about you and he wants to see you.”

Your mouth opened and closed, rebalancing a fish out of water. “...When are we leaving?” That wasn’t the first question you had in mind but your lips moved like it has a mind of its own.

“In the next two days, I’ll start packing if I were you,” he said in a calm tone, as if he’s talking about the weather, blissfully unaware of your dilemma.

“Wait, how am I supposed to explain this to my father?” You asked, grabbing onto his forearm when Riki walked past you, ready to leave.

He stopped, looked down at you with an arched eyebrow. “That’s not my problem, princess. Use that smart brain of yours to figure something out.” He gently knocked your forehead, to which you slapped his hand away with a scowl.

Riki laughed, unfazed and bid you farewell as he stepped out of the council room, leaving you alone to come up with a solution.

The next few hours passed in a blink of an eye, with you diligently working away at your desk until it was time to go home. As always, your driver was already waiting for you by the main entrance. For the entire ride, you were quiet, staring out of the window, watching as everything passed you in a blur. You fidget with your fingers, biting down on your bottom lip while countless thoughts flew through your mind at breakneck speed. No matter what you think of, you end up reaching a dead end.

That was until you thought of something you’ve never done before. Something you didn’t even know it’s possible for someone like you to pull it off. When you reached home, you wasted no time in heading to his private office, entering without knocking. He paused in the midst of typing on his laptop, sparing a singular glance in direction and his eyes narrowed behind the pair of glasses he wore.

“(Name), didn’t I tell you to knock before coming in?” He asked, leaning back in his seat.

You swallowed, calming your nerves before speaking. “I’m sorry, father. But Ningning is inviting me and Minju to her house for a sleepover this Wednesday. Is it alright if I could go?”

Your father merely sighed, returning to his laptop and continued typing. “Go ahead. When will you be coming home?”

“In about four days or so,” you answered, praying he wasn’t able to hear how loud your heart was pounding against your chest.

“Alright, fine by me. But I expect you to work on your grades when you’re back. Is that understood? There should be no room for failure,” he raised his head, making direct contact with you.

You nodded, bowing and left his office. It was only when you returned to your room did your legs threaten to give way. After all, you’ve never expected to have the courage to lie to your father.

After spending the remaining two to three days packing and repacking until you’re satisfied and certain your luggage won’t exceed the limit, you were on the way to the airport, at one in the morning. Riki had already sent you the flight details and when you insisted on paying for your share, he threatened to leave you stranded in Japan, leaving you with no choice but to let him win this time. Your parents were already fast asleep when you set off, with your driver driving you to the airport. You didn’t bother informing them that you were leaving, not wanting to gain any unwanted attention and besides, you’re going to ‘Ninging’s house for a sleepover’.

Yeah, as if the sleepover consists of you flying out of the country.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you arrived at the airport. Your driver helped to unload your luggage, wishing you a safe flight before driving off. A strong, cold gust of wind kisses your cheeks when you enter the airport, the pair of glass automatic doors granting you entrance. You looked around, spotting Riki seated in one of the comfy couches with the hood of his hoodie drawn up, shielding his face from any curious eyes.

Riki looked up when you stopped before him, eyes darting between your face and luggage. “Why did you pack as if we’re going for two weeks?” He asked, rising to his full height. That’s when you realized he had packed extremely light—only bringing a black, Prada duffel bag that has everything he needs.

“I just like being prepared,” you retorted, about to follow him when Riki wordlessly reached out his hand towards you.

“What?” You frowned.

However, Riki didn’t say anything and extended his hand. You didn’t know why but you placed your hand on his. Riki owlishly blinked his eyes. “Uh, I’m asking you to give me your luggage so I can check it in for you. Why did you give me your hand?”

“O-Oh, right,” you stuttered, withdrawing your hand, acting as if he had some form of contagious virus while you handed him his luggage.

“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” he snickers, finding great amusement in your reaction.

“Shut up! It’s not my fault when you’re being vague,” you bit back.

“You could’ve asked but you didn’t. If you wanna hold hands, all you gotta do is ask,” he sends you his signature smug grin that makes your left eyebrow twitch. But you don’t feel as annoyed as before anymore. The reason remains unknown to you and you shoved it aside for now, not wanting to think about it.

“Piss off.”

“Ouch, didn’t know the President has such a crude mouth on her.”

Safe to say, the two of you started arguing, exchanging rapid blows of words between one another until you arrived at the check-in counter. The process was smooth sailing, as there was only one luggage and one duffel bag that the both of you had to check in. Once you were given your boarding passes, the both of you entered the Departature Transit Area, where you have about three hours left before your plane arrives.

At Riki’s suggestion, the two of you ate at a twenty-four hour ramen restaurant where he once again, offered to pay. You had already placed your order and were now waiting for your food to arrive. Apart from the two of you, there was only one other table occupied by a family of four. None of you said a word, that was until Riki broke the silence in the form of a question.

“So, what solution did your brain come up with?” He questioned, looking at you while absentmindedly fiddling with one of his many rings.

You squirmed in your seat, hands resting on your lap. “...I told my father I’ll be at Ningning’s house for a sleepover.”

He blinked, momentarily stunned as he stared at you. His fingers stilled against the cool metal of his ring, the soft clinking stopped altogether. For a beat, there was nothing.

Then, the corners of his lips twitched, and a low chuckle escaped from him, which evolved into a full blown laugh that made his shoulders shake. He leaned back, amusement dancing in his eyes with a grin stretching from ear to ear appeared on his handsome face.

“You?” He said between breaths, pointing at you with disbelief. “You lied to your father? Right in his face?” He laughed again, clearly entertained. “Damn, I didn’t think you had it in you. Not what I expected from Miss Goody-Two Shoes.”

“I’m not a Goody-Two Shoes,” you snapped, going silent when a waiter arrived with two big, steaming bowls of ramen. The fragrance from the clear broth is enough to make your stomach grumble and mouth water. You immediately dug into your food with Riki doing the same.

Both of you are engrossed in wolfing food down your throat until Riki continued the conversation after swallowing his mouthful of food. “You know, my friends and I talk about you a lot. They always say how you’re sucking up to the teachers and principal, about how you kept trying to show off your smartness and what not.”

You faltered. Sure, you knew there are some students who don’t like you but you didn’t take their hatred into heart. However, it’s a different story when it comes from hearing someone say it out loud and to make it worse, directly to your face too. You dryly swallowed, gradually losing the mood and appetite to continue eating. You cursed yourself when you felt the familiar, stinging sensation formed in your eyes, making your vision blurry.

But Riki wasn’t done.

“And then, the more I kept talking and hanging out with you, the more I realized you aren’t what people think you are,” his voice softened, a contrast to how he usually speaks which made you look at him, surprised.

“You may be viewed as the untouchable, fearless, smart and talented President of the Student Council but to me, you’re just a regular girl who wants to live her own life to the fullest. Who wants to seek approval from her father. Who wants to do her best in everything she does,” he paused for a moment, eyes never leaving your face and your breath hitched, not daring to say anything that could ruin the moment.

“And that’s something that made me realise; you’re just (Name). That’s all there is.”

You stared at him, unable to utter a single word. You didn’t expect Riki to speak with such…sincerity in his voice, like he was saying nothing but the truth itself. Maybe it was also the way he looked at you. His eyes, features and smile unconsciously softened, his half-eaten bowl of ramen long forgotten. The way he looks at you—like he’s reallylooking at you, does something to your heart, soul and mind. You feel lighter, like a heavy weight was lifted off your shoulders and you’re able to breathe again.

“You…Why are you acting like this?” You muttered, unable to look him in the eyes as you busied yourself in finishing the remains of your ramen, “and finish your food, will you? We have a plane to catch.”

Riki sniggered, picking up his chopsticks and lightly nudged your foot with his underneath the table. “If my girlfriend insists.”

“Please, just shut up.”

Once you’re done with your meals, you walk around the airport to digest your food and pass time. There were many luxurious brands in the airport, with people of all ages walking around while waiting to board their designated planes. You entered a store, deciding to check out the items and you paused when you saw a bag that caught your interest. Your eyes nearly popped out from its sockets at the sight of the ridiculous price reflected on the price tag. Yes, you’re rich and all but you didn’t want to spend an insane amount of money on a bag. You were about to walk out when Riki stopped you, grabbing you by your arm.

You shot him a puzzled look but he ignored it, waving to get a nearby staff’s attention. “Excuse me? Could you help to wrap this up, please?” He asked, pointing at the bag—the very same bag you were staring at.

Eyes widening, you immediately gripped onto the sleeve of his hoodie. “Riki, you don’t have to—”

“Shush, I want to. Besides, it’s the least I could do as your boyfriend,” he gave you a playful wink and you swore you heard someone squeal in the background.

The staff finished wrapping the bag and Riki paid without hesitation. Just like that, you have gotten a brand new bag that costs way more than what a regular human being could probably afford. Soon, it was time for you to board the plane and you weren’t surprised to see he had booked Business Class for the two of you. Passengers taking Business Class were the first to board. You groaned when you realized you had to sit beside Riki, as you made yourself comfortable in your chair, already covering yourself with the blanket provided.

You were about to pull the divider up when Riki stopped you. “Uh, what are you doing?”

“I don’t want to see your face for the rest of the flight, so I’m temporarily blocking you,” you deadpanned, slapping his offending hand away from the divider.

Riki’s jaw dropped. “What? You can’t be seri—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence as you had already pulled the divider up, effectively blocking and shutting him out.

Finally, some peace and quiet.

The flight from Seoul to Tokyo wasn’t long but it’s long enough for you to get some sleep. Riki had already slipped on his headphones and knocked out the moment the plane took off. Both of you didn’t bother using the inflight entertainment, choosing to catch up on your much-needed sleep instead. Eventually, you arrived at Narita International Airport. You drowsily followed Riki, letting him take the lead as he guided you through the entire process from getting your passport checked to passing security.

When the whole ordeal was done, he led you to the pick-up area where a man waiting outside a black car was. Riki and the man exchanged words at a rapid speed, speaking in Japanese while you’re completely clueless. The only words you were able to make out from their conversation is Riki saying his full name to the man, who seemed to recognize him and helped to carry your luggage to the boot of his car.

Riki ushered you to get into the backseat, with him sitting beside you while the man got into the driver’s seat and drove off, the airport getting smaller and smaller until it was out of your sight.

“What were you talking about?” You asked, looking at the boy beside you.

Riki hummed, eyes focused on his phone as he texts someone. “Ah, he was asking if I’m Ni-Ki and I said yes. He’s my dad’s driver and we’ll be staying at his place.”

“We’ll be what!?” You shrieked, slapping a hand over your mouth when you had spoken too loud but thankfully, the man paid you no mind, focused on speeding down the expressway.

He smirked, tucking his phone back into the pocket. “Yup, we’re staying at his place. But don’t worry, you’ll get your own room.”

He paused.

“Unless you wanna sleep together—”

“Nishimura Ni-Ki!”

You spent the rest of the ride talking to Riki and it didn’t take you long to arrive at your destination. You knew Riki comes from a wealthy family but you didn’t expect him to be this rich. Rich to the point where the car had to drive through two separate security gates just to reach the main entrance. Rich to the point where his father’s mansion wasn’t just a large house, but an estate—built on a private plot of land so secluded it felt like a different world altogether.

The gravel beneath the tires shifted slowly as the car came to a stop, and your eyes widened at the magnificent sight before you. Towering trees lined the perfectly manicured driveway, providing some form of shade against the harsh rays of the afternoon sun. The mansion stood at the end of it, regal and imposing with wide stone steps, tall glass windows, and ivy crawling up one side. The way it looks is straight out of a painting.

You turned to Riki, who seemed completely unfazed, one hand lazily resting on the window frame as he scrolled through his phone with the other. “Do you used to live here?” you muttered, still processing the sheer scale of it all.

He glanced at you with a smirk, raising an eyebrow. “No,” he replied casually. “My house’s back home in Korea. My father chose to move to Japan after he got a divorce with my mother.”

Right. The divorce. The mention of it made you remember the phone call he made when he was drunk. You had been meaning to ask him about it but could never find the perfect time or place to do so. You parted your lips, about to ask him a question but the car came to a stop and he had hopped out before you could even say a single word. You had no choice but to step out as well, thanking the driver in broken Japanese when he helped to unload your luggage while Riki tossed his duffle bag over his left shoulder.

“I feel underdressed,” you mumbled, eyes flicking to the marble lion statues flanking the front door.

Riki snorted softly. “You’ll be fine. He’s probably in his study, pretending to be busy so he doesn’t have to come out and say hi.”

You weren’t sure if that made you feel better or worse. You follow Riki as he enters the mansion, your footsteps echoing clearly against the four walls. Everything feels expensive to the point you forgot that you too, come from a wealthy family as well. You nearly bumped into him when he stopped without warning, causing you to ungracefully stumble over your feet.

“What the fuck is your problem?” You hissed under your breath, only for you to go silent when you saw an older man walking down the stairs like he owns the place. And he does. After all, that man is none other than Riki’s father.

If your father is an intimidating, fierce and strict man, then Riki’s father is the complete opposite of him. He is fully expressive, not afraid to show his emotions and greeted you with a warm, fatherly smile that made your heart clenched. He arrived at the foot of the stairs and talked to Riki, his son, in Japanese, the language sounding almost poetic coming from his lips. You stood there, looking away to give the father and son some privacy when they hugged. You swore you saw Riki’s eyes glistened with tears threatening to fall from them but you kept it to yourself.

His father then turned to you expectantly and Riki took the chance to introduce you to him. You didn’t know what Riki was saying and you could only hope he wasn’t talking shit about you, right in your face. You won’t be surprised though, if that’s the case. You bowed at a straight ninety-degrees with a polite smile on your face, accepting his offer for a handshake. What you didn’t expect however, was for him to speak in fluent Korean, as if he was born and raised there.

“Hello, you must be my son’s girlfriend, right? You’re really pretty and I’ve heard many things about you. Thank you for taking good care of my son. I’m sure he must be a handful to manage,” his father said.

You blinked, unable to hide your surprise and he let out a heartful, loud laugh that seemed to bounce off the maison you’re in. “I can tell you’re surprised that I can speak Korean. But not to worry, I get that a lot. I used to live in Korea with Ni-Ki before moving here.”

You could tell he’s being vague with his response, unaware that you knew he is now a single father but you didn’t point it out, not wanting to come off as rude. Instead, you smiled and nodded. “I see, I do hope Riki has told you good things about me.”

The culprit merely snorts. “Nah, I told him how you kept nagging at me to wear my blazer and obey the school rules.”

“You!” Your cheeks flushed red, mortified and embarrassed at how he easily exposed you but his father merely chuckled.

“I think you’re doing a great job, kiddo. But enough about that, I’m sure you’re tired from your flight. I’ll let Riki show you to your room and once you’ve settled down, you can join us for dinner tonight,” he said.

For the third time in a row, you nodded your head. “That’ll be great, thank you very much.”

His father’s features softened and he ruffled your hair. “You’re a good kid.” He didn’t give you time to ponder about the meaning behind his words and had walked off, heading somewhere else in the mansion, leaving the two of you alone.

Riki sighed, adjusting the strap of his duffel bag and jutted his head towards the direction of the stairs. “Come on, I’ll show you to the guestroom.”

Just like before, he snatched your luggage away from your grip, being kind enough to carry it up the stairs while you waddled after him, holding nothing but your carry-on bag.

You reached the second floor and were brought to the first door you see. Riki pushed it open, moving aside to let you in first. You entered, slowly taking in your surroundings where you’ll be staying for the next four days.

It was beautiful—lavish, yes—but unexpectedly warm.

Soft golden light spilled from the chandelier above, catching on the muted gold accents that trimmed the cream-colored walls. The king-sized bed was made with crisp ivory sheets and a cashmere throw folded neatly at the foot, inviting rather than intimidating. Plush, oversized pillows rested against a velvet-upholstered headboard, and across from the bed, a sleek fireplace was quietly flickering, giving the room a gentle glow.

A small seating area sat near the wide window, where thick curtains framed a view of a private garden bathed in soft moonlight. The armchairs were cushioned just right, a stack of books placed on the side table as if someone had thoughtfully considered your comfort. You noticed a faint scent of jasmine in the air—subtle, not overbearing.

You turned slowly, taking it all in. “This is... the guest room?” you asked.

Riki leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you with faint amusement. “Yeah. If it makes you feel better, the master bedroom’s ridiculous. This is the toned-down version.”

You gave him a look, but your lips tugged into a smile as you placed your bag down on the velvet bench at the foot of the bed. “This is anything but toned-down.”

“Stop acting as if you’re not rich either,” he retorted, entering your room so he could place your luggage against the wall, wary of not putting it anywhere that could hinder your path.

“Yeah, but I’m not as rich as you. Like all of this,” you paused, gesturing wildly with your hands at the room and everywhere else, “is crazy.”

“Even the fact that we’re fake dating?” He asks, arching an eyebrow.

You paused, surprised by the question. You didn’t expect Riki to ask such a…serious question, considering how you’ve agreed to do this for your personal reasons. Heck, the same could be applied for him. Riki was still looking at you, patiently and expectantly. Like he wants to know your answer.

You dryly swallowed. “Yes.. even that.”

You swore you saw something flickered in his eyes but it was gone when he blinked. Riki rested a hand on his check, faking a betrayed expression. “Wow, after everything I’ve done for you and this is what I get?”

“Shut up, you haven’t even taken me on a date yet,” you bit back, instantly regretting the words you said when Riki owlishly blinked.

“Then, let’s go.”

“W-What?” You spluttered, staring at him all wide-eyed.

“Let’s go on a date, right now.”

“Right now?” You repeated his words, sounding like a parrot.

Riki laughed. “Yes, right now. I can show you the beauty of Japan while we’re at it, as your personal and dedicated tour guide.”

“Sounds like my worst nightmare,” you deadpanned. “But, I don’t think I’m dressed well for it.”

Riki waved off your concern with a dismissive flick of his hand. “It doesn’t matter. Come on, let’s get going.”

You scowled, grabbed whatever your personal items along with whatever you needed, dumped them into a smaller and lighter bag that you had shoved into your carry-on and followed him out, ready to explore Tokyo.

When Riki mentioned he’s showing you the beauty of Tokyo, he was not joking. Your beloved boyfriend had taken it upon himself to bring you to all of the tourists' hot spots, forcing you to walk until you swore your kneecaps were about to be dislocated from your body. You’ve never walked this much in your life. In the span of five hours, Riki had shown you nearly six hot spots—something that should be impossible for someone like you, who was so used to having your driver driving you around that this was something new for you to experience. Strange enough, you weren’t complaining.

Maybe it’s because no adults are around to control you, to tell you what to do and not to do. Maybe it’s because you’re in a whole different country, spending time with someone you never expected. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because you’re with Riki.

Your eyes landed on him, taking in the mesmerizing sight before you. The sun was starting to set, dusting the sky in a beautiful shade of reddish-orange that made people want to stop what they were doing, admiring the scenery before them. Riki was recording something with a small, film camera he had brought for the trip. He wasn’t aware of how you’re simply staring at him in his own element.

A gentle gust of wind blew past, caressing your cheeks in a light, fleeting sensation that you would have missed, if you didn’t have to tuck a few stray strands of hair behind your left ear. Maybe it’s the way he kept checking the footage with a small smile of satisfaction, or how he looked at peace despite the chaos, standing in the middle of it all like he belonged in every frame he captured. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s the way your heart slowed every time he laughed, low and genuine as he made jokes with you or teasing you to no end.

Sighing, you hugged your pathetic excuse of a jacket—a light blue, thin denim jack tighter around your body. You involuntarily shivered when a stronger gust of wind flew past you out of nowhere, causing your hair to stand and goosebumps to form. Riki was finally done, satisfied after many retakes and snorted at how you’re shivering, on the verge of freezing to death. He removed his expensive-looking jacket and placed it on your shoulders wordlessly. Your head snapped up to him, startled.

“Riki, wha—”

He shook his head. “Just wear it. I won’t want you to shiver to death and have my dad cut my head off.”

“I’m sure he’ll love to see that,” you dryly retorted, fingers now grasping onto the hem of his jacket to tug it as close as possible. Your face turned red when his signature cologne invaded your senses, making you feel safe, like you’re wrapped in his arms.

Riki rolled his eyes, reaching out to flick your forehead. “As if you can even kill me in the first place.”

“Ow!” You exclaimed, rubbing the now sore spot. “Try me, bitch.”

“Woah, did I just hear the President cursing at me? Today must be my lucky day,” he faked a dramatic gasp, causing you to roll your eyes at his antics.

“Yeah yeah. I guess there’s lots of things you don’t know about.”

“That can be easily fixed.”

You shot him a curious look, crossing your arms. “Oh? And pray tell me what do you have in mind, Mister troublemaker?”

Riki threw his head back, barking out a loud laugh that startled the people nearby but he ignored them. “That’s a horrible nickname but we can use this chance to get to know more about one another! Maybe about your dreams, passions or hobbies.”

This time, it’s your turn to raise an eyebrow, mildly impressed. “...Huh, I don’t see why not. But that doesn’t mean I still don’t hate you.”

“Bah, tomato and potato.”

“It’s actually tomayto, tomahto and potayto, potahto,” you corrected him.

“Ok Smartypants, I didn’t ask and I don’t care. So, let’s go to a sushi restaurant and have our dinner because I don’t know about you, but I’m fucking hungry,” he replied, grabbing your hand and begin dragging you down the street, ignoring your futile attempts of freeing yourself from his grip.

The sushi restaurant was quite small, only able to contain not more than twenty tables. There were a few people seated inside. Some were office workers. Some were friends while some were families or couples. Just like the two of you. The chefs greeted you when the two of you entered and Riki returned the greeting with equal enthusiasm, making you sit at the nearest vacant seats, so you could watch the chefs prepare the sushi in front of you. Thanks to Riki’s help and suggestions, you were able to place your order and watch them get to work.

You watched, captivated by how fluent, smooth and quick they were in molding the sticky, Japanese rice into small, rectangular shapes. They sliced a fat chunk of salmon into thin slices, the meat glimmered underneath the light as they gingerly placed it on top of the rice. They did the same for the other sushi you had ordered and soon enough, you had a plate filled with different kinds of sushi placed in front of you. Riki has also ordered a bowl of fresh Sashami for the two of you to share.

You grabbed a pair of chopsticks, picking up the first sushi—the one with shrimp meat placed on top, dipped it onto the small plate of soy sauce and placed it in your mouth. You could feel the freshness of the shrimp, tender and juicy. The soy sauce acts as an additional flavor. You swore you saw the white, pearly gates of heaven for a moment.

“So? How is it?” Riki asked, having observed your reaction the entire time, his own plate of sushi still left untouched.

“It’s really good. I know Japan’s sushi is amazing but this is beyond my expectations,” you commented, snatching two pieces of tissue paper to dab at the corner of your mouth.

“You have a little something here,” Riki said, pointing at the left corner of his mouth and you dabbed at it but he shook his head.

“No uh—just stay still for a second,’ he murmured.

“What are you do—!?” You asked, only for you to go as still as a statue when Riki leaned in.

You had to force your muscles to not move an inch, even when he rested one arm on the back of your chair. Even when he’s so close your breaths mingled in the remaining space between the two of you. Even when you could see the faint eye bags residing underneath his eyes. You nearly reached out to push his face away when his thumb rested on the left corner of your mouth, dangerously close to your lips to wipe the rice grains away.

Riki was calm and cool-headed the entire time. You, on the other hand, felt like you’re on the verge of combusting into flames. After what felt like decades, he moved away and you were finally able to breathe properly. Your heart was still beating rapidly, close to leaping out of your chest. Riki started eating his sushi while you continued, pretending nothing happened. Pretending how there wasn’t some sort of tension that had settled in, only waiting for the right time to develop into something stronger. Something that you won’t be able to avoid forever.

When you’re done with dinner, Riki brings you to a nearby Family Mart to grab some light snacks and drinks before bringing you to an open-air park. You were quite surprised to see there were still people around, despite how it’s already close to nine in the evening. Riki led you to one of the few empty stone tables and chairs for you to sit and chat. You sat down, bringing his jacket closer to your body, shivering when a wind blew past you.

“You shouldn’t have worn such thin clothes,” he commented, sitting opposite of you while laying out the snacks and drinks, like he was getting ready to serve them in a buffet.

“Shut up,” you bit back despite knowing he’s right, “in my defence, I didn’t know it’ll be cold when it’s night.”

Riki scoffed, resting his arms on the cool surface on the stone table, his signature infuriating smirk on his face. “Alright, just say you wanna wear my clothes, princess.”

Your face instantly heats up at his words. “Careful, you’ll get brain damage if you think too highly of yourself.”

He merely shrugged his shoulders, reaching for the nearest bag of chips and easily ripped the packaging open, sliding it towards you, giving you the first bite. You reached your hand into it, grabbing a generous portion of chips for yourself and used your left hand as a temporary bowl to hold the chips. None of you said a word, basking in the silence as people minded their business around you. Until, you couldn’t take it anymore and blurted it out loud.

“Do you still remember that you called me when you were drunk?” You asked, looking at him dead in the eyes.

Your question made him paused—hand hovering in midair with his mouth open. He stared at you for a few seconds, acting as if you had spoken in another language or you had grown another head. He awkwardly and loudly cleared his throat, eyes looking everywhere but you. His shoulders shrink in, almost as if he’s trying to make himself look smaller.

“I was hoping you had forgotten about it but I guess not,” he muttered, lips curling down in a pout. You had to resist the urge to audibly coo, finding him adorable and endearing, “I was drunk and I didn’t know why I dumped my background on you. I’m sorry about that.”

You blinked. “Why are you apologising?”

This time, it’s his turn to blink owlishly at you, bemused. “Uh, because I called you out of nowhere when I was drunk and trauma dumped on you without your consent?”

Finishing the remains of your chips, you rummaged through your bag to search for your packet of wet tissues. “Yeah well, you weren’t committing a crime or something. And besides, I think you’re kinda cute when you are drunk.”

You went still the moment realisation of what you just said hits you. Riki, on the other hand, cocked an eyebrow, something akin to amusement and something else glimmered in his eyes. He flashed you a knowing grin, stretching from ear to ear. Adjusting his position, Riki rested his chin on his intertwined fingers.

“Oh? You think I’m cute?” He purrs, voice lowering an octave, sending shivers down your spine. You swore you short-circulated right there and then too.

“...No, I think you’re annoying and ugly,” you managed to regain your voice but deep down, you knew you’re lying. It seems like Riki knew too, with how that smug grin stretched wider but thankfully, he didn’t comment on it and changed the topic of the conversation, the grin fading from his face.

“I think you’ve seen enough to connect the dots. My parents are divorced. My dad moved to Japan while my mom chose to stay in Korea. My mother’s a model, which I’m sure you’ve seen her faces plastered everywhere in Seoul,” he paused, running a hand through his blonde hair. At this point, he wasn’t looking at you anymore. It’s like he’s purposely avoiding your eyes. Like he doesn’t want your pity. Like he doesn’t want you to view him as weak.

“My father runs a business of his own. The moment I was born, something just…changed,” he said, pausing again. almost as if he’s afraid of what he wants to say. Seeing this, you reached your hand across the table to rest it over his, giving it a light and assuring squeeze.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to continue if you don’t want to,” you murmured, letting him lace your fingers together, his thumb running along your knuckles. The contact sends your heart flying but you ignore it, due to the seriousness of the current moment.

Riki stubbornly shook his head. “No, I think it’s time I tell you this—all of me and how I became who I am now.”

You nodded, not moving your hand away from his, letting him use it to ground himself.

Riki took a deep breath, calming his nerves and resumed.

“Straighten your back. Walk with confidence, like you own the runway. Like you deserve to be walking on the runway.”

Those were the same few sentences that kept replaying and replaying, like a broken song in Riki’s mind the moment he mastered the ability to walk on his two feet. Unlike other children who get the luxury of running about in the playground while screaming at the top of their lungs, Riki was immediately sent for modelling lessons. His mother paid a hefty amount to hire a tutor, a strict, firm and ruthless woman who he doesn’t bother to remember her name.

Still, as much as he wished to disobey her instructions, he couldn’t. His tutor is hellbent on making him master the basics until he gets it right, so that they could finish the lesson in the wee hours in the morning, forcing him to skip dinner. Especially when he’s only ten years old—the age where he needs lots of nutrients, in order to have a healthy diet and body. She’s also known to constantly push him past his limits, forcing him to overexert himself. It’s a common sight for him to finish, on the verge of fainting due to the lack of food for many, many hours.

After what felt like decades, he had finally met her expectations and the lesson ended, much to his relief. Riki didn’t bother walking her to the door, heading to the kitchen immediately where the main chef had already made his dinner, setting it aside for him to eat when he was done. But in the Nishimura household, there’s no such thing as a peaceful dinner. His mother chose to make her appearance, just when Riki had taken his first bite.

“Why are you out here? Shouldn’t you be taking your lessons?” She questioned him, nothing but disapproval written all over her face.

Riki stared at her in disbelief. “I just finished the lesson and now I’m eating dinner. You know, the dinner I’m supposed to have five hours ago.”

“Nishimura Ni-Ki, you will not talk to me that way. I’m your mother and you need to treat me with respect.”

Riki audibly scoffed, making a show of rolling his eyes. “Why should I when it’s clear you don’t treat me with respect. The bare minimum of a human being.”

His mother sees red, stepping forward, ready to give him a slap when his father quickly interferes. “Now, the two of you. That’s enough. Dear, please let him eat in peace and rest for the night. You’ve been too harsh on him recently.”

The woman swirled around, betrayed that her own husband wasn't taking her side. “You’re siding with him? How do you know he’s telling the truth? For all I know, he could be lying!”

His father sighed, exhausted with her behavior. “Dear, you and I both know Riki isn’t interested in becoming a model in the first place. Why are you forcing him into this? Don’t you think you’re being—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” she hissed, rudely cutting him off.

While his parents were busy arguing, Riki took the chance to grab his tray of half-eaten food and made a mad dash to his room, where he could eat in peace. It’s normal for him and in the Nishimura household—for a young child like him, to eat in the comfort of his room while his parents’ voices only grew louder and louder. Harsh words were exchanged between them, showing no mercy to one another.

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. You didn’t know what you could possibly say to make him feel better. A part of you breaks when you catch a singular tear droplet rolling down his cheek. You acted without thinking—your free hand reaching out to wipe it away. You were about to pull your hand back, afraid you might have crossed the line when Riki stopped you. He grabbed your hand, pulling it back and pressed his cheek against the palm of your left hand, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned into it.

Normally, you would either be attempting to push him away or making fun of him. Heck, you would even be in a blushing mess but right now, you’re filled with nothing but worried for him. You even moved to sit closer, as if you couldn’t bear to be this far apart from him, despite how you’re only seated across from him.

“Riki, I..” You paused, biting your lip, uncertain if the words you planned to say will bring him comfort or instead, more hurt.

He shook his head, sniffling and using his free hand to wipe the tears away. “It’s fine, you don’t have to say anything. Just.. just listen to what I have to say, please.”

You nodded, “of course, anything, Riki. I’ll listen.”

The first sign something shifted in the mansion was when his parents no longer slept in the same bedroom. Sure, they constantly fought and argued but in the end, they still slept in the same room. Riki, who was already fourteen at that time, only discovered the change when he came home from school, only to pause in the doorway when he saw a group of men carrying a new bed frame into their home. Seeing his father descending from the stairs, he approached him.

“Father, what’s the new bed for?” He asked, curious.

Sighing, the man ruffled Riki’s hair, much to his son’s displeasure. “Your mother and I will be sleeping in separate bedrooms from now on.”

“Oh, but why? Did something happen between the two of you?”

His question made the man pause, uncertainty flickered in his eyes before they vanished when he blinked. Instead, his father merely smiled in sadness.

“You’ll understand when you’re older.”

And Riki left it at that, still too young, naive and clueless to understand the implications behind his words.

The second sign comes in the form of his parents refusing to speak to one another. At this point, arguments between Riki and his mother became a daily basis. To his mother’s utter disappointment and anger, Riki had fallen in love with dancing. It started when he stumbled upon a video of a famous celebrity—Michael Jackson, when he was in school. He and his classmates were captivated, watching as the man moonwalked across the stage with nothing but confidence and skills that screams plenty of experience.

Because of that, Riki has been spending whatever free time he has to practice his dance in secret. The last thing he wants is for his mother to find out what he had been doing behind her back. No doubt she’ll be seething with rage. It was tiring—juggling his academic life, attending the stupid and useless modelling lessons and dancing. The only times when he was able to feel free was when he’s dancing.

He wasn’t sure how to put it into words but somehow, he’s able to feel connected to the music. It’s like his limbs have a mind of its own—body able to move in ways he can’t imagine the moment the beat drops. Everything was fine. He’s able to learn what he’s interested in, without anyone knowing. It’s like one of his guilty pleasures, in a sense.

However, his peaceful moment didn’t last long.

His life flipped upside down when he returned home from school, only to hear his father yelling at the top of his lungs. Invisible alarm bells went off in his mind. After all, his father isn’t the kind of person to yell or shout. Riki could only assume something serious had happened. Something so serious that his normally cool and composed father had lost his mind. He headed to the living room, where the direction of the voices came from and he hid behind the wall, concealing his presence while he eavesdrops on the conversation.

“How long have you been seeing him?” His father questioned, his breathing the only thing everyone can hear in the quiet living room.

“Tell me! How long have this been going on behind my fucking back!?” His father roared, voice booming like thunder.

Riki’s ears registered the sound of a brown, paper envelope being slammed down on the coffee table in the living room. His father stood over it, jaw tense and fists tightly clenched at his sides. The contents in the envelope spilled out, spreading across the table—revealing a set of glossy photos that shows something that could make the Internet go wild.

The photos show nothing but the truth. The truth that no one wanted to speak about: his mother, unmistakably her, laughing over coffee with a man who wasn’t her husband. Another photo showed them walking arm-in-arm through a quiet street, far too intimate for strangers.

“I gave you everything. And this is how you repay me? By spreading your legs for someone else the moment they gave you their attention?” His father snarled, spitting the words out like they are venom.

Even when Riki is hidden, he could clearly visualise his mother’s expression—her furrowing her eyebrows, arms crossed and shoulders slightly raised in defence. “You no longer look at me the same way as you used to anymore. This would happen and it’s only a matter of when.”

Riki feels sick to the core, sensing zero regret in his mother’s words. Instead, there was arrogance. Arrogant that her affair had been exposed and how she didn’t have to hide them anymore.

The sound of glass shattering pierced through the silence, loud enough to make him flinched—startled. Riki lets out a shaky exhale, even going the mile of covering his mouth with his hands, not wanting to be caught by his parents.

“I’m getting a divorce and you’re signing it,” his father demanded, sending nothing but death glare towards his now ex-wife. “From now on, I don’t fucking care what you’re planning to do.”

“Fine by me. It’ll do me some good if you’re out of my way,” the woman retorted, turning to leave but his father’s voice stopped her.

“One more thing: I won’t be staying in Seoul. I’ll move back to Japan, to stay with my parents.”

Hearing this, the woman looked over her shoulder—expression unreadable. “And what about Riki?”

“He stays here. He doesn’t deserve you as his mother but it’s better for him to live here, rather than with me.”

And just like that, his parents are officially divorced and his father has moved out, returning to Japan while leaving a small part of him behind with Riki.

When Riki finished with unshed tears glistening in his eyes, you were oblivious to the fact that you too, had started tearing up. It was only when he cupped your face with one hand, gently wiping the tear away with his thumb did you realize you had started crying. Riki forced out a watery, weak laugh. The sound so foreign to you and even him.

“You silly, why are you crying?” He croaked out.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your fingers gripping onto his large hand and shook your head. “I—Gods, I’m so sorry for thinking you’re nothing but a cocky and annoying person. I shouldn’t have thought about you that way. I—I’m really sorry.”

You managed to choke out your words, voice barely more than a whisper. Like it’s meant for him and only him. “I didn’t know… I didn’t know you were carrying something that heavy. And I still mocked you. Treated you like a joke.”

His breath audibly hitched. He looked at you—really looked at you—and for a moment, he seemed like he might shatter completely. His usual bravado, the playful smirks and sharp remarks that built the wall around him, were gone, nowhere to be found. All that’s left was the boy who had stood behind that wall years ago, listening to his parents’ love and personal life shattering, right in front of his eyes. There was nothing he could do, except to accept it, no matter how much he wanted to refuse.

“I was never mad at you for nagging at me,” he said softly, his thumb still brushing your cheek and his other hand had now cupped your other cheek. “That stuff doesn’t really get to me. But... the thought of you looking at me like I’m nothing—just some arrogant guy with a dumb grin—that one hurt, a lot.”

A few tear droplets rolled down his cheeks and this time, he didn’t bother hiding it.

You moved closer, pressing your forehead against his, your hands tangled with his. “You’re wrong. You’re not nothing. You’re strong, Riki. The strongest person I’ve ever known.”

He let out a shaky breath. “Don’t say things when you don’t mean them.”

“I do,” you replied, more tears freely streaming down your face and he closed his eyes tightly, as if he’s afraid of seeing your face or hearing the pure sincerity in your voice, “I do mean it.”

He gently pulled back, looking at you with nothing but tenderness. Then, with the softest tremble seen in his lips, Riki leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead. It was light. One blink and you would have missed it. But, it carried everything—the unspoken feelings he had been carrying since young. The very same feelings he had locked up and tossed it aside, building walls around it to protect himself and the people around him.

“Thank you, (Name). For crying, and for staying with me.”

After that, the atmosphere between you and Riki had shifted. You weren’t sure if it’s for the better or for the worse. Worse meaning for your heart. Riki’s acting differently now—more bold and daring. Bold enough to hold your hand like it’s normal. Like you’re a normal couple, when you’re the furthest thing from that. He likes to be close to you, following you everywhere like a young ducking following its mother. The sight is adorable, in his father’s eyes, who merely sent you a knowing smile, enough to make you blush and look away.

Unlike before when your conversations are mostly the two of you bickering, it’s now less hostile. You learnt more about Riki—like how he’s the only child in the family, how his role model is Michael Jackson and the list goes on. In return, you had told him things about yourself.

“You know, my father wants me to take over his company when he retires,” you said, staring at the clear blue sky with your arms behind your head.

You and Riki are hanging out in the spacious, open-aired backyard in his father’s mansion. The weather is cooling enough, leaving the two of you not in the mood to head out and explore Tokyo. Riki hums beside you, absentmindedly drinking from his can of cold soda. He wore sunglasses, shielding his eyes with his left leg propped on the lounge chair. Today was also your last day in Japan, which means you have to fly back tomorrow. Which also means you have to face reality again, no longer able to move at a slow and lazy pace.

“What do you want to do then?” He inquired, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes.

“Me? I wanna be a lawyer,” you answered, turning to fully face him, resting your cheek on the palm of your left hand.

Riki scoffed, pushing his sunglasses up to reveal his eyes that gleamed in amusement. “You? Becoming a lawyer? Yeah, I can’t imagine that.”

“Hey!” You huffed, “would it kill you to be nice to me?”

“Yes, I’ll die on the spot the moment I’m nice to you,” he deadpanned, resting a hand on his chest for dramatic effect.

“You’re so annoying.”

“But you love me anyways.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense!”

On your last day, you decided to have dinner with Riki’s father, who was on cloud nine. He had asked the chef to prepare a whole feast, despite how there’s only three people he’s feeding. You and Riki were dumbfounded when you came down from the room, only to see the dinner table was filled with a wide variety of dishes—ranigng from main dishes like seafood, chicken, pork to appetizers like spring rolls, chicken wings and heck, there was even both rice and noodles.

“...Dad, I think this is too much,” Riki commented, taking his seat while you sat beside him, mouth watering at the fragrance of the food displayed before you.

“Nonsense, there’s no such thing as too much food,” his father waved off his son’s comments, happily gesturing for the both of you to eat. And who were you to say no?

Everyone dug in, the dining table filled with laughter and loud chattering. You felt at peace, blissfully unaware of the fact that Riki’s eyes either lingered on your face or he kept sneaking glances your way. Of course, this didn’t go unnoticed by his father, who hid his grin behind his glass of water.

“So, how did you two get together?” He innocently asked, causing you to choke on your food and Riki nearly spit out his drink.

You shared a quick, panicked glance and Riki spoke up, smoothly coming up with a story that sounds believable to anyone who hears it. “We’re classmates and were put together for a project. We spent more time together and thanks to that, I fell in love with her.”

His father whistled; impressed. You ducked your head, feeling shy at how you’re the centre of attention, cheeks dusted in a light shade of pink. “I see, and (Name), could you tell me what you like about my son?”

“M-Me?” You squeaked out, voice going an octave higher, head snapping up at the question directed to you.

The man nodded, looking at you with a warm smile. You could feel Riki’s eyes boring holes into the side of your face. You knew there’s no room for you to escape, leaving you no other choice but to reply to the question.

“For starters, he’s very annoying and rebellious. I always have to nag at him—telling him to wear his uniform properly, telling him to obey the school rules and the list goes on,” you started, earning an amused snort from his father. Riki playfully nudged your elbow, shooting you an offended look.

“But, if there’s one thing I admire about him, it’s about his strength. Mental strength, to be exact,” you continued, your voice now steadier as you glanced at Riki, who returned your gaze with amusement and probably something akin to affectionate in his eyes.

His father listened patiently, silently encouraging you to carry on with a nod of his head. You fiddled with your fingers. “He told me about his past, about how he was forced to do something that he disliked, about how he had no choice but to bow his head and about how he didn’t get to experience the childhood everyone else did. But through that, I see him in a different light now. I see him as someone strong, capable and independent.”

Riki stiffened just slightly beside you but you continued, oblivious.

“Sure, he acts like he’s untouchable but as you get closer to him and manage to slip through the walls he built around himself, you'll be able to see his true, genuine self. He takes care of the people he cherished in his life. He makes me feel lighter whenever I talk to him, be it our common bickering or simply just talking. But deep down, I know how he tends to hide when he’s hurting, just so he doesn’t be a burden to anyone. Just so no one else has to carry the weight with him.”

You paused, now looking at him, the truth gradually seeping into your words. It’s like you had tuned out your surroundings, now entirely focused on Riki and only Riki. You had forgotten about his father, who was listening to the whole thing silently.

“But deep down, I wish he won’t push me away and let me in instead. Let me be there for him. Let me be the one who’s able to shoulder the heavy weight he has been carrying, so he doesn’t have to be alone, not anymore. Because we come from the same boat and are going through the same things.”

Riki had his eyes on you the entire time you were speaking. Gone was the usual playful, smug way. His gaze was unreadable but intense. There’s a type of softness that made your breath catch, like your words had struck him deep, shaking him to the core. But, he didn’t say anything. He merely sat there, quiet but his eyes said everything he didn’t need to say.

Riki’s father loudly cleared his throat, startling the both of you—who visibly jumped from your respective seats. “I see,” he said, voice calm and warm, “that’s an excellent answer. As expected from the President.”

But you barely heard him. Because your heart was pounding painfully loud in your chest—and you were completely certain Riki had successfully deciphered the message behind your long answer.

The rest of dinner passed in a blink of an eye with you eating beyond your limits—something you thought was impossible for you. You kept glancing at Riki here and there but he has been pointedly avoiding eye contact, looking everywhere else but you. You weren’t sure why he’s acting like this—a huge contrast to how he normally was. But the change does nothing but adds worries and doubt to your heart. You had offered to help clear the table but was shooed away by his father, who assures you that he has personal staff who can do that instead, leaving you no choice but to oblige.

Riki was already making his way up to the second floor and you followed him, hoping you could stop him before he could return to his room.

“Riki,” you called out tentatively.

He ignores you, continuing walking down the long hallway of the second floor.

“Riki, what’s gotten into you? Why are you acting like this all of a sudden?” You asked, voice growing softer.

He ignores you again.

“Is it about earlier—”

“Don’t,” he cut in sharply and your heart dropped.

You’ve never heard his tone this cold before—icy, detached, like a switch had been flipped. Riki finally stopped, looking over his shoulder with his bangs shielding his eyes. But you were able to see them—emotionless and empty. Seeing it was enough to send shivers down your spine.

“Don’t make this into something it’s not.”

You blinked, voice caught in your throat. “What?”

“You’re getting too carried away,” he said flatly, “what you said earlier… It sounded real. Too real.”

You stepped closer—just a small step but the way Riki stepped back—wanting to maintain the distance was enough to make your blood run cold. “It was real, Riki. I meant every word.”

He shook his head, jaw clenched. “This isn’t part of the deal.”

“The deal?” You echoed, voice cracking at the end, “are you really bringing that up now?”

“Well, I have to,” he snapped, “you’ve already forgotten that this—” he gestured between the two of you “was never supposed to be real. This whole thing started because I need to get the funds and you get to fix your reputation. Don’t tell me you’ve cast them aside?”

You flinched. “No, I didn’t. I know the funds are important to you but what about me? What about my feelings?”

Riki ran a hand through his hair, exhaling in frustration. “Those aren’t important. Not in this—a fake relationship.”

Your eyes burned, fists clenched at your sides. “So, you’re saying all of this was never real in the first place?”

He nodded, and finally looked at you. “Yes, you’re right.”

You sniffled, not bothering to wipe the tears away, letting them freely roll down your cheeks. Through your blurred vision, you could see him falter for the slightest moment, regret hitting him. But it was too late. He had already made his choice known to you.

“I see. Very well then,” you nodded, turning to retreat to your room and slammed the door shut with a loud bang.

Your body slid down the door, until you’re on the floor. Your mind was blank, eyes staring at a random spot on the floor beneath you. Riki’s words kept replaying in your mind, over and over again. Your bottom lip wobbled, fresh tears stinging the corners of your eyes. Unable to hold back anymore, you buried your face in your hands—unsure if you want to muffle your cries or hide your face, even though there’s no one else in the room. No one else other than you, who’s drowning alone.

A strangled sob slipped out as the weight of everything crashed into you at once without warning. The way he looked at you earlier with a softness he tried so hard to hide. The way you dared to believe—just for a single moment, that what you had with him might be more than pretend. That it might be real. That maybe, just maybe, he cared for you too.

But then, he pushed you away.

Tears streamed down your face, hot and bitter with your sobs muffled by your palms. Your shoulders shook as you tried to stifle the cries, as if keeping quiet would make it hurt less.

It didn’t.

You cried until your chest ached, your breath hitched, your eyes turning red, swollen and puffy and the sleeves of your shirt were thoroughly soaked with your tears. Because Riki had reminded you that whatever existed between the two of you was built on nothing but a lie. The worse part was that you had started to believe it was real, letting yourself get attached and falling into a hole with no way out.

The day for you to return to Korea has arrived. Riki and you had packed your things and were by the main entrance, with his father’s driver waiting. He had dumped his duffel bag in the boot of the car, about to hop in but was stopped by his father, who gestured for him to follow him, heading somewhere near but not too far from the car. Riki spared you a glance before following his father, until they are far enough where you won’t be able to hear them.

“Riki, I know the two of you aren’t really dating,” his father spoke up, and his son visibly flinched, not expecting the truth.

“Father, I—”

The man shook his head. “You don’t have to explain the reasons behind it. I heard the two of you yesterday night and that wasn’t nice of you, Ni-Ki. You shouldn’t have said such things to (Name), not when she had been nothing but sweet and understanding to you.”

Riki pursed his lips, shoving his hands in his pockets as he kicked a small stone to the side. It’s times like these when he feels like he’s ten again, when he got reprimanded by his father for breaking a vase and tried to hide it, without telling him. Even when Riki had gone through a major growth spurt, he felt small under his father’s firm, unwavering gaze.

“I know, but I’m doing this to protect her. I don’t want to see her getting hurt because of me,” he protested but deep down, he knew he wasn’t telling the truth.

His father sighed, reaching out to rest his warm, large hand on his son’s left shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “Ni-Ki, it’s time you let someone in. You heard her yesterday. She’s willing to help you and be with you all the way. That’s love right there and trust me, you should act fast or someone else will snatch her away.”

Riki nodded, exchanging a hug with his father before returning to the car—where you had already gotten in and was passing time by scrolling through your phone. The two of you bid his father farewell as the driver pulls off. The mansion grew smaller and smaller until it was out of your sight. He fiddled with the hem of his hoodie, finding the silence in the car awkward and tense, like he wasn’t used to it.

“(Name), I—”

“Sorry, I’m quite tired so I’ll be taking a short nap. Wake me up when we reach the airport,” you answered, not looking at him as you fished out your headphones, slipping it on without waiting for his response and promptly closed your eyes.

Riki sighed, not wanting to argue with you as it was still early in the morning. He does the same—wearing his headphones and chooses to look out the window instead, watching as everything moves past him in a blur. It took you about an hour or so to arrive at the airport and your flight is scheduled in four hours time, meaning you have about three hours left to check-in and grab a bite.

Safe to say, the two of you were acting like a couple that had broken up, which couldn’t be far from the truth. But then again: you weren’t an actual couple and none of you had felt like you had broken up, right? You were constantly on your phone—either scrolling through social media or texting someone. Riki could only pray that someone wasn’t a dude.

When it’s time to board the plane, you had done the same as before—pulling the divider down the moment you sat down. Unlike before when you did it on purpose and mischief, this felt more personal with a clear message sent to him. The message of wanting him to leave you alone. And that stung the most. It stings more than hearing his parents getting a divorce.

Five to six hours later, you had returned home. It was close to midnight and thankfully, your parents were nowhere to be found. It turns out they were away for a business trip and will only return in one month's time. This prove to be good news for you—giving you the much-needed alone space for you, without having your father's watchful eyes everywhere. It allows you to breathe without having to constantly looked behind your back for once.

You didn't bother unpacking your luggage, leaving it aside and went to take a much-needed shower, promptly coming out twenty minutes later, feeling refreshed. You had changed into a set of more comfortable and breathable clothes, now seated by your desk with your legs tucked in. You were in the midst of drying your hair when you saw your phone lighting up, followed by Ningning's profile picture. Sighing, you accepted the call and put it on speaker mode.

"Hello?"

"Hey girl, wanna join me and Minju tonight for some drinks?" She greeted you.

Normally, you would decline, stating how you need to either study or focus on your student council-related works but today was different. Your mind kept drifting back to Riki, to how he was before he firmly drew a line between the two of you. You needed a distraction and it was just nice that Ningning haf offered one to you, on a golden plate.

"Sure, count me in," you answered, hopping off your seat to head to your closet.

"Oh really!? You're actually joining us? Who are you and what have you done to (Name)?" Ningning exclaimed, making you snort and roll your eyes.

"Haha, very funny. Come pick me up in thirty minutes," you said, ending the call without waiting for her response.

You ended up choosing a sleeveless black dress that reached your thighs, topping it off with a thin bold red jacket. You applied some light makeup, followed by spraying perfume on yourself until your room smells like it. You grabbed your personal belongings—phone, wallet, identity card and a few other things to dump it into the black, Prada bag—the very same bag that Riki had oh so generously bought for you. Satisfied with your appearance, you slipped on your heels and left your home. You were just in time as Ningning pulled up to the main entrance.

She whistled when you got into the backseat. "Damn, someone's dressed to impress tonight."

Minju clicked her tongue, whacking the other's shoulder. "You idiot, she's dating Riki. Don't put it like that."

Ningning's eyes widened in realisation as she drove off. "Oh, right. Sorry babe, but does your boyfriend know you're coming with us to the club?"

The mention of the word 'boyfriend' is enough to make your heart tighten. Until now, your friends were oblivious to the whole fisaco you and Riki are involved in. You decided there was no better time than to tell them the truth.

"Uh, Riki's actually not my boyfriend," you confessed.

"What!?" Your friends exclaimed and Ningning nearly slammed her foot down on the brakes.

"It's a long story and I'm not sure if you guys are interested—" You continued but Minju interrupted you.

"(Name), it's alright. Tell us what happen. Remember? We're here for you," she said and Ningning nodded her head in encouragement.

You nearly teared up—feeling touched with how kind your friends are. "Well, it started like this…"

Riki returned to a still, unoccupied and silent home, much to his relief. He wasn't sure where his mother was nor does he care about her whereabouts. He dumped his duffel bag on the floor in his bedroom, hopping into the shower, coming out in ten minutes with a towel wrapped around his neck and water dripping from his hair. Riki had changed out of his clothes, now dressed in a black tank top and a pair of grey Chrome Hearts sweatpants. He wasn't hungry as he had ate in the plane and decides to do his laundry.

He threw the worn, dirtied clothes into the washing machine, followed by adding some detergent and set the timer. Riki went to sprawl on the couch in the living room, while waiting for his clothes to be done washing. He scrolled through Instagram, clicking on his friends' stories, getting a glimpse into their current lives and what they were doing.

And then, his screen swapped to your profile picture with his ringtong playing.

Riki froze.

He stared at the screen in disbelief, like his eyes were playing tricks on him. He didn't expect you to call him, not after what he had done. For a moment, he assumed you had misclicked and wasn't supposed to call him. But the longer he stares at your name, the more tempted he was to answer it. But he shouldn't. Not like he has the rights to do so anymore.

Fuck it.

Making up his mind, he accepted the call. "Hello? (Name)?"

"Hello? R-Riki? Hic—is that you?" You answered, words already slurring and barely understandable.

"Wha-? Are you drunk?" He asks, stunned as he didn't expect you to be the drinking type.

You let out a giggle and Riki desperately wished he was there, protecting you and warding off any potential creeps who thinks they have a shot with you. He could imagine the way your lips curled up, your pretty smile lighting up your face and how your eyes glowed like happiness.

"N-No—hic—I don't get—hic—drunk! I'm not—hic—like you," you defended yourself.

Sighing, Riki pushed himself up and leans back into the couch. "(Name), you're stressing me out. Did you went there alone? Where's your friends, hm?"

"D-Dunno—hic, think they're somewhere.. elsewhere—hic. You know, I'm still—hic—sad," you admitted.

"..What are you sad about?" He asks, even though he already knew the answer.

A sniffle.

"It's 'cause —hic—you dummy. Why do you—hic—have to be so—hic—mean to me? You treated me like I'm invisible—hic—out of nowhere, after I—hic—confessed. Do you—hic—really hate me that much? To the point where—hic—you don't even wanna—hic—talk to me?" You asked through your series of sniffles and hiccups.

Riki felt like he got punched right in the guts, his breath leaving his lungs. His blood turned cold. He has never heard you like this before—broken and vulnerable. He tightened his grip around his phone. His heart was screaming, yelling at him to rush to your side and to embrace you with his arms. But he couldn't. Not when he's the one who caused the two of you to fall astray. Not when he's doing this to protect you.

It's like his lips moved before his mind could process it. "No, I don't hate you. In fact, I could never hate you, (Name)."

You went silent on the other line. The only thing he could hear was your sniffles and how he wish he could be there to wipe the tears away. "R-Really?" You muttered, sounding like a child seeking for their mother's approval.

Riki nodded, although you couldn't see him. "Yes, really. Do you trust me?"

"..Yea, I do. I trust you, Ni-Ki."

The sudden usage of his actual name made his heart skipped a beat but he shoves it aside. "Alright, could you find your friends?" Give them a call or something," he paused, looking at the clock before him, "it's getting late."

"Alright, will I be able to talk to you in school?" You asked, hope evident in your voice.

"…Yeah, you will."

"Promise?" You whispered, only audible for him to pick up.

Riki fainly smiled. "Yea, promise."

But deep down, he had already broken it.

The next day, you dragged yourself to school looking like a zombie. Your unkempt state gathered many students' attention, their eyes following you as they whispered amongst themselves. You can't blame them, as you've never looked this messy before. Your blazer wasn't buttoned properly. Your tie was hanging loosely around your neck. Your hair was tied in a messy, high ponytail with multiple strands poking out from every direction. You had even wore sunglasses to hide your bloodshot, swollen eyes. You arrived at your first lecture of the day and Ningning was the first among the three of you to arrive, already saving your spots.

"Damn, you look like shit," Ningning said, arching an eyebrow as you plopped down in your seat on her right.

You pushed your sunglasses down, letting her see your eyes and she wheezed. "Thanks, genius. Remind me to never drink with you guys again."

At that moment, Minju had arrived, sliding a takeaway cup of hot coffee and a brown paper bag towards you as she sat on your right. "To be fair, we tried to stop you but you kept drinking like there's no tomorrow. So you only have yourself to blame."

You groaned, knowing she was right as you accepted them and nibbled on the sandwich Minju had bought from the cafe situated across campus. There were still some time left before the lecturer arrives, giving you enough time to finish your breakfast. You were almost done when you saw something that nearly made you choked on your half-eaten sandwich. Hearing that, your friends turned towards the door and the three of you wore matching dumbfounded, stupefied expressions—eyes widening to the point it might popped out from its sockets.

There he is—Nishimura Ni-Ki entering the lecture room, dressed like he's about to walk the runway. He wore two layers of clothes. The inner layer is a simple, white tank top while the outer layer is a thick, black hoodie that has a zip in the middle. He pairs it off with a pair of saggy-looking jeans that looks like it's about to drop if not for the belt snugly wrapped around his waist. But that's not what caught your attention. Oh no, it's the fact that Hana is walking right beside him, an arrogant smirk on her face. Your eyes trailed down and oh.

They are holding hands.

Plop.

Your sandwich fell into the paper bag with a pathetic plop sound, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care. You couldn't look away from the two, watching how Riki seems to be listening to Hana's words, nodding along here and there.

"What the fuck?" Ningning gaped, watching as the two took their seats on the left, rows ahead of yours.

You weren't spared, watching as Hana rested her head on his shoulder and even play with his fingers that were decorated in silver. The sight is enough to make bile rise in your throat. You pushed your sunglasses up when you felt the painfully familiar stinging sensation burning your eyes. Your nails dug into your palms, unable to believe what you were looking at. The lecturer came in and begin the lesson but you couldn't listened, occasionally looking in Riki and Hana's directions.

Your grip tightened around your pen when Riki tucked a few stray strands of hair behind Hana's right ear, leaving her in a giggling, flustered mess. You dryly swallowed, resisting the urge to vomit right there and then. Seeing this, your friends rested their hands on both sides of your shoulders and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

The rest of the lecture passed in a blur. You didn't jot down any notes, unable to focus to a single word that your lecturer had said. When the lecture was over, most of the students started packing up and scrambled out from the room, impatient to leave. You, on the other hand, remained seated with your sunglasses removed. You didn't made any move to pack your things, eyes fixtated on Riki and Hana, watching how they were about to leave.

You weren't sure why but your legs moved before your mind could process it. One moment you were at your seat. The next moment, you were standing before them with your fists tightly clenched by your sides. Hana's smile dropped from her face when she saw you and it was instantly replaced with a scowl, eyes filled with disdain. She crossed her arms, tilting her head to the side with a cocky glint in her eyes. Her manicured nails glimmered underneath the lights.

"Yes? Can I help you?" She asked, voice dripping with nothing but annoyance.

You let out a shaky exhale, eyes flickering to Riki, who was looking at you like a complete stranger. Like he doesn't know you anymore.

"Uh, I was hoping if I could talk to Riki for a second, in private?" You asked in an unusually soft, timid voice—a huge contrast to how you carry yourself.

Hana audibly scoffed, about to say something when Riki stood up, hands shoved in his pockets. "Sure, follow me."

"What? Riki, are you su—"

"Hana, shut up. It'll only take a while," he interrupted, sending her a glare that made her sealed her lips shut. You followed Riki until you're standing outside the room and thankfully, the hallway is already empty as students were now attending their next lessons.

"So? What do you wanna say?" He asks, tapping his left foot on the ground, "I don't have all day."

Your breath caught at his words and tone. "..Why are you acting like this?"

"Like what?"

Like you're pretending we're just strangers. Like we were back to square one.

You didn't dare to say those words out loud. Instead, you brought up the call you made when you were drunk. "You promised me, Riki. You promised me that I'll be able to talk to you when we're in school," you choked out, voice borderline cracking.

If you were more observant, you would've noticed the way his shoulders tensed at the mention of the call. You would've noticed the way his jaw tightened, like he wants to say something but he had to hold himself back.

You continued.

"I thought we'll be able to fix things, only for you to come into class, together with Hana. Do you know how I felt when I saw you?" You paused, desperately clutching onto your shirt—right over where your heart lays.

"It felt like I was stabbed right here," you whispered, fingers curled tightly around the fabric. "Like someone ripped into me, grabbed my heart and… crushed it in front of me."

Your voice trembled, thick with the weight of unshed tears. "I sat there, trying not to break down, trying to pretend I don't care—but I was drowning, Riki. And the worst part? You didn't even look at me."

His head dipped slightly, but he said nothing. You pressed on, needing him to hear, needing him to feel it. You need him to know the irreversible damage he had done to you, or else you won't be able to move on.

Riki sighed out of frustration. "I've told you, didn't I? There's nothing real about us. In fact, there was never an us in the first place."

SLAP!

Silence.

Riki ended up facing the right, his cheek turning red with the pain lingering behind. He slowly raised his hand, fingers hovering over his reddened cheek—right over where you had slapped him. He couldn't say anything, too stunned to formulate a response.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!?" Hana's shrill voice pierced through the hallway, shattering the atmosphere that had engulfed around the two of you.

You were roughly shoved aside by her, who was by Riki's side. Your fingers twitched at the sight of her cupping his face as she checked his injury. Ningning and Minju had join the scene as well, protectively standing on both sides, silently daring Hana to try something. She faltered, knowing she will lose and chose to storm off while dragging Riki away with her.

The two returned to the room, coming out a few seconds later with their bags and disappeared after making a turn on their left. Once they were out of your sight, your legs gave way and you collapsed to the floor. Your friends were quick to catch you, preventing you from getting any bruises.

You couldn't take it anymore, tears freely flowing down like a waterfall as you sobbed while being held in Ningning's arms. You couldn't register the sounds you made—like you're an animal being choked to death. Minju tried to comfort you by whispering into your ear but you were too far gone to understand her.

"I hate this," you whimpered, burying your face in the crook of her neck, "I hate falling in love."

Ningning sighed, patting your back lovingly like how a mother does to her child, "Oh (Name)…"

The three of you remained there—in the hallway as you cried to your heart's content.

Ever since that day, you had stopped talking to Riki, giving him the same treatment as well. You threw yourself into your duties—working on the upcoming Winter Gala that's happening in three weeks' time. You had just finished working on the announcement letter that will be pasted on the noticeboard and is now rereading it to ensure you didn't missed anything.

To all students,

As per the yearly tradition of Decelis Academy, the Winter Gala will be happening in three week's time, on 11th August 2025, from 7pm to 12am. Please dressed in approriate, formal clothes for the Gala. For this year, the required dress code is blue and white. as long as it is in proper attire.

There are some rules everyone have to follow:

It is a MUST to bring a plus one for the event. Failure to do so will prevent entrance into the event.

Please be on your best behavior during the event, as there will be people from different industries joining as well. Please remember you will be representing Decelis Academy.

Last but not least: have fun.

You let out a soft, humorless chuckle to yourself when you realized you had already broke the first rule. You don't have a plus one for the Gala and you were sure your father will be furious if he finds out you didn't attend. But, at this point, you were mentally exhausted—spending the past two weeks or so getting everything ready for the Gala.

Shaking your head to get rid of any unnecessary thoughts, you printed out the letter and headed to pin it on the noticeboard. The students who were nearby stopped whatever they were doing, moving closer to get a clearer look at the letter. Some started whispering amongst themselves, excited as they discussed about what to wear and who to bring for the Gala.

You stood at the back, watching with a faint, fond smile on your face. You turned, ready to return to the council room when you stopped, seeing Riki stepping out from the studio. He's all sweaty, his skin practically glowing underneath the light. You gulped as he ran a hand through his fluffy, blonde platinum hair. The white, oversized graphics shirt he wore clung to his body, showing off his broad shoulders and slender build.

You forced yourself to look away when you saw Hana approaching him, handing him something. Your heart tightened when Riki wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close and laughed when she squawked, complaining about how sweaty he is. Seeing them together made the familiar painful feeling returned. Not wanting to be in the same space any longer, you turned and retreated to the council room. What you didn't know is how Riki glanced at your retreating figure, until you were gone.

The day of the Gala arrived and the large indoor hall that's mostly used for talks had transformed into a ballroom that looks something straight out of a royal fantasy novel.

Chandeliers hung from the high vaulted ceiling, each crystal shard catching the light and scattering it across the room in different colors. The walls were draped in layers of sheer white and midnight blue silk, cascading down like waterfalls of moonlight, embroidered with silver thread that shimmered with every breath of wind.

There's a long, frost-kissed carpet that stretches from the entrance to the heart of the hall, bordened by glowing lanterns shaped like delicate winter blossoms. The floor sparkled as if it's dusted with crushed diamons, catching every step with subtle brilliance. Tables dressed in velvet navy linens circled the edges of the room, each set with fine china and glowing centerpieces of enchanted ice roses that pulsed gently with pale blue light.

There was even a live orchestra occupying the stage, playing differnet variations of winter ballads to fit the theme and atmosphere of the Gala. Girls and women entered, dressed in nothing but luxury from head to toe in different shades of blue with some white here and there. Boys and men are dressed in either dark blue or black suits. Soon, the hall was packed and filled with the sound of people chatting while laughing.

Riki entered, impecabbly dressed in a dark blue suit. His hair was neatly pushed back, revealing his forehead and his ears was decoated with a pair of small, silver hoop earrings. Unlike before, he only wore a maximum of four Chrome Hearts rings—two on both index and thumbs. Beside him and holding onto his arm is none other than Hana.

She was dressed like she's the centre of attention—wearing a light, pastel blue strapless dress that flows down at the end. Hana had also wore makeup that enhances her features, making her look like a Goddness. Riki snapped out of his trance when Hana gave a light tug on his arm.

"I'm gonna go and talk to some of the people there, will you be alright?" She asked, pointing to a group of women who Riki recognized as the leaders of a fashion company.

"Sure, go ahead," he nodded, giving her a small smile and she patted his arm before walking away, leaving him alone.

Riki grabbed a glass of white wine from a passing staff, moving to a corner to watch his surroundings. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone—his fellow classmates and the grownups. It's not like he was interested in doing business or wanting to do anything with the corporate world, unlike the students.

Unlike you.

He paused, straightening himself and looks around, trying to spot you among the sea of people. Riki checked his watch, frowning when he realized thirty minutes had passed but there was no sign of you. But he does see some familiar faces—Ningning and Minju with their respective dates for the Gala.

But you were nowhere to be seen.

Riki pushed himself off the wall and walked towards them. Minju saw his approaching figure and nudged Ningning, leaning in to whisper into her ear. The two turned as he stopped before him, faint anger flickered across their faces.

"What do you want? Shouldn't you be with your girlfriend or something?" Ningning snapped, venom evident in her tone.

Riki didn't flinched, ignoring the hositilty directed at him. "She's busy. Where's the President? Shouldn't she be out here?"

This time, it's Minju turn to speak up and she stepped forward. "What's it to you? Haven't you done enough? You led her on, making her think everything you had was real, only to cut her off!"

Ningning had to hold Minju back when she was close to throwing hands, reminding her about how they are in a public setting, where everyone can see what they were doing. Minju resorted to scowling at the taller.

Still, Riki didn't flinched. "I just want to know where (Name) is, please."

Minju sighed. "She's not here. She's staying at home."

Riki's shoulders sagged, eyes widening momentarily at her response. "What? What do you mean she's not here?"

Minju scoffed, crossing her arms. "You have a brain for a reason, so use it. Do you not remember the rules stated in the letter?"

Riki paused, thinking back to the letter he saw on the noticeboard. "Wait, don't tell me…"

Ningning nodded, confirming his thoughts. "Yeah, those without a plus one aren't allowed to enter."

"Shit," he cursed, running a hand through his neatly-styled hair, messing it up, "it's my fault."

"Damn right it is, now let me ask you something, Nishimura Ni-Ki and you better answer this truthfully," Ningning said.

"What is (Name) to you?" She asked.

Riki blinked. He didn't know how to transform his thoughts into words, causing him to hesitate for a moment. He let out a slow breath, eyes dropping to the floor—as if the answer can be found there.

"She's…" He started, quiet, "she's the one person who sees through everything. The one person I can't fool."

He looked up again, and both girls were able to see determination in his eyes and most importantly—honesty.

"I tried pushing her away. I thought it'd be easier. I was doing this to protect her, to protect her from getting hurt. But that was a pathetic excuse when I'm doing this because I was afraid."

He lets out a breathless laugh, laced with defeat and guilt. "And that's when I realised I too, had fallen for her. That I'm too far gone to pretend I don't feel something anymore. I'm in love with her and to me, she's not just someone. She's not the President. She's just (Name), my everything."

The two girls weren't expecting him to be honest, stunned. They exchanged a quick glance that speak volumes. Ningning pursed her lips, reaching into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper, handing it to Riki. His eyes darted between the paper and Ningning's face, eyebrows furrowed.

"What's this?" He asked, accepting it, unfolding the paper, only to see an address messily scribbled on it.

"It's her address. If you really meant what you say, go to her and tell her the truth. Tell her everything," Ningning said softly, giving him a small, encouraging smile.

Riki gulped, clutching the paper tightly in his grip like it's his lifeline. "..I will, thank you, really."

Minju shook her head, waving off his words. "Don't thank us just yet. Invite us to your wedding and we'll accept your words."

Riki laughed and dipped, not bothering to say anything to Hana. Right now, Hana is not important. You are his top priority.

I'm sure everyone's having fun at the Gala now.

You sighed for the unknownth time, idily spinning your pen with your right index and middle fingers. Your hair was tied in a messy bun with some strands of hair framing your face. You were dressed comfortably—a faded graphics oversized shirt and a pair of shorts that's peeking out from the hem of your shirt. You could have been at the Gala, dressed in a beautiful dress while mingling with the crowd and talking to some of the famous lawyers there to secure your future.

But no, you weren't. Instead, you were at home, seated by your desk and studying. To be more specifically, attempt to study.

Groaning when the words weren't making anymore sense to you, you took that as a sign to take a break. You headed to the kitchen barefooted, feeling the smooth, marbled floor beneath you as you poured yourself a glass of water.

Knock knock.

You paused, looking at the closed door, thinking you had misheard it or something. You shrugged if off and was about to return to your room when you heard it again.

Knock knock. Knock knock! Knock knock!

"Damn, calm down," you grumbled, heading to the door and opened it without checking via the peephole.

CRASH!

The glass slipped from your hand, shattering into tiny pieces when it's none other than Riki. He's annoyingly handsome tonight. The way the suit clung to him like it's his skin took your breath away. Riki flinched when you dropped the glass, stopping you when you bent down, ready to pick the glass pieces up.

"Don't, I'll do it," he stopped you, hands gently grabbing your wrist—the mere contact sends your heart skipping.

"…What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the Gala?" You whispered, looking down at the floor, unable to look at him. You couldn't.

Shouldn't you be with Hana?

You didn't have to say those words, not when Riki perfectly understood it without you saying it out loud. Riki sighed, thumb drawing invisible circles on your wrists. "Can I come in first, please? I'll clean the mess then explain everything to you."

You should tell him to leave. Tll him to go back to the Gala but you couldn't. Not when your heart was yearning for him. "..Fine, come in," you murmured, moving aside so he could enter your home. You gently closed the door behind him, leading him to the kitchen where the broom and dustpan is.

None of you said anything. You watched, sitting on the couch with your arms crossed as Riki sweeps the glass shards up into the dustpan and dumped it into the dustbin. When he's done, he returned and sat on the other couch at your request for him to sit.

"So? What do you have to say?" You asked, your voice coming out colder than you intended, making him flinched.

Riki fiddled with his fingers, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his upper thighs. "I didn't have a choice. Hana threatened me to either date her or she'll ask the funders to pull out and not sponsor the dance club."

You rolled your eyes, arms crossed as you leaned back in your seat. "What a great start, Riki. And what? You agreed? So, you're doing all of this for your dance club?"

Riki snorts, despite the seriousness of the current situation. "Harsh, but I deserve that. Look, at that point, I don't fucking care about the dance club anymore. Whether the funders want to continue or not, I don't care. I care more about you! And Hana… she knew that," he paused, eyes darting towards your stunned face before to the floor.

"That's why she threatened me by using you," he continued, anger seeping into his voice as he clenched his fists. "I don't know how but she managed to get a hold of your call when you were drunk. She had a whole recording of it too. She told me if I don't be her fake boyfriend, hold hands with her in front of everyone and all that shit, she'll release the recording to everyone on the day of the Gala. She wants to get rid of you, no matter what."

You let out a shaky exhale, disbelief written all over your face. "So is that why you started acting cold out of a sudden? Was it when Hana had texted you? Telling you about all of…that?"

"I thought I was protecting you!" Riki snapped, losing his composure. "I thought that if you hated me, you wouldn't be dragged into her stupid mindgames. I didn't want to lose you, but I couldn't bear the thought of you getting hurt because of me. I was afraid."

Frustrated tears welled in your eyes and you stood up from where you sat. "Which is why you chose to hurt me yourself?"

Riki flinched again, as if your words had struck deep within him. His shoulders sagged with defeat. "I didn't know what else to do. But, every time I see you in class, saw the way you looked at me like I'm some kind of stranger… it killed me. And I thought maybe that's what I deserved."

His voice cracked and you caught it—a singular tear droplet rolling down his right cheek. "But I never stopped caring, not even for a second. And I'm sorry. I'm so—" He moved towards you, now standing directly before you.

"I'm sorry for everything."

Silence pressed between the two of you—thick, painful and heavy. And then, Riki reached out with hesitation, hands hovering in midair—uncertain if he could even touch you before he dropped his hands.

"I just wanted to protect you—even if it means you'll hate me forever."

You stared at him, silently crying, breaking down in front of him. You should say something. Scream at him, telling him about how hurt you felt by him. But instead, your hands shot out, grabbed him by the collar, tugged him down and crashed your lips against his.

Riki went still for a second, mind lagging and it hits him. But then he melted into you, hands flying up to cradle your face with a desperation that speaks volume. The kiss was messy, trembling and filled with unspoken, pentup feelings. Every apology. Every missed chance. Every silent night and torture both of you went through because of one another.

He kissed you like he had been starving for it. Like he had been thinking about it. Like it's the only thing that keeps him alive. When you finally pulled away, just barely, pressing your forehead against his, your breaths mingled in the same shared air space.

"You're a fucking idiot, I hope you know that," you murmured, lips grazing against his with every word you spoke.

Riki breathlessly chuckled, nuzzling his nose against yours. "Yeah, but I'm your idiot now."

"I won't say that."

"Hey!" He whined, making you giggle as you pull him in for another kiss. And another. And another. Until the two of you ended up in your bedroom, bodies melted into one.

The white curtains shielding you from the sunlight scatters about as a gentle gust of wind enters the room. You woke up to the sound of birds chirping happily outside, causing you to stirr in your half-awake and half-asleep state. You reached forward, attempting to grab your phone, only to be tugged backwards until you landed against a firm, bare chest.

"Where you going?" Riki mumbled, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his lips grazing against your hickey-covered neck. You involuntarily shivered in his grasp when he purposely rested his hand on your stomach, ready to move lower.

"I was trying to grab my phone to check the time," you softly replied, turning in his hold to fully face him. You smiled when you saw he's already awake and you leaned in, pressing a soft, loving kiss against his lips, chuckling when he chased after your lips.

"Hey, that wasn't a kiss," he huffed.

"Morning breath," you reminded him but he rolled his eyes.

"Whatever," he scoffed, flipping you onto your back with him hovering over you.

"Riki, do—!" You tried to stop him but the moment he kissed you, you went pliant against him.

Your lips moved in a slow, languid pace, like you have all the time in the world. You gasped when Riki traced his hand along the silhouette of your body, like he couldn't get enough. Although the way he had you squirming, crying underneath him yesterday for hours says otherwise.

"Shit, you're so fucking irresitable," he cursed, pulling your right leg up to wrap it around his waist.

You whined at his words, breath hitching as his hand moves closer and closer to where you need him—

Ring, ring! Ring, ring!

Riki groaned at the interruption and you shoved him away, not caring as he tumbled back to the bed with a startled squawk. You checked your phone, to see it was a message from Ningning.

"Fuck, we need to get dressed. Ningning's reaching in thirty minutes," you cursed, pulling the sheets off your body but Riki was faster. He pulled you towards him, until you landed against his chest.

"Riki, I swear! Let go!" You exclaimed, bursting out into a fit of giggles when he ruthlessly tickled your sides.

"Nah, don't wanna," he laughed, planting kisses all over your face, elicting more giggles from you.

"P-Please—pft! M-Mercy!" You choked out, feeling your stomach hurting and thankfully, Riki finally freed you.

"…Do you ever regret moving here?" He asked in a softer tone, resting his chin on your shoulder while intertwining your fingers together.

After graduation, you and Riki agreed to move to another country—Australia, to start a new life. A new life without having to worry about anything. Your father nearly fainted when you told him the news and needless to say, it ended up in an intense arugment. He had attempted to make you stay, by threatening you that if you were to step out of the door, you won't be able to come home anymore.

Safe to say, you stepped out without hesitation. Riki simply packed his things and left without telling his mother. He did informed his father, however, who wasn't surprised and encouraged his son to visit him once in a while and to bring you along.

You managed to land an internship at one of the lawyer firms in Australia—which is one of your biggest dreams. Riki had gone all out, throwing you a celebration dinner to celebrate the occassion. Riki, on the other hand, was scouted by one of an agency for his dancing skills and is now currently conducting dancing lessons. Although, he still hopes to open a dance studio of his own someday.

You looked at him over your shoulder and shook your head. "Of course not. Why would I have any regrets when I'm with you?"

"Such a sap."

"Thanks, I learn from the best."

Both of you laughed, leaning in to close the remaining distance to share a kiss, savoring the moment. And just like that, the past faded behind you, and the future stretched wide open—yours to write, together.

the devil wears uniform taglist: @franboesawi, @zerocoded, @enhxlvr, @kiromiix, @yenienha, @loodie9, @chaewonmyheartt, @dearestdreamies, @jun2ki, @hoonstrology, @chuhees, @beaviu.

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