Archive of Our Own ^beta

Irene leans forward on the bench, resting her face on the palm of her hand. She sighs, her lips breaking into an amused grin while she flutters her eyelashes and stares at the girl who is currently the reason half of the stands are on fire. “She's so cute.” She shakes her head and watches the girl swirl her hands into an anti-clockwise motion reversing all the damage she did just now.

Next to her, Seulgi slaps her shoulder and looks at her with horror, genuinely concerned for her mental well-being. “She just demolished half of our battleground and restored it. I think her looking cute should be the last of your concerns,” reasoned her best friend, her voice laced with pure shock.

“Emphasis on the restoring part,” Irene points out and stands up, dusting off all the debris on her uniform. “She topped the theoretical exam. Of course, she had to do something big to make sure she tops the physical exam too.”

Seulgi walks with hurried steps behind her as they make their way around the stairs to reach the top. Irene looks up at the scoreboard and a smug smile makes its way to her face when she spots her name and points at the top, showing Seulgi the name on the top written with golden ink.

“I get it, Wendy is at the top but you're still missing the point,” Seulgi whines, shaking her head as they find themselves in a familiar infinite void, helping them teleport to the location Irene picked for them. “She's the topper from the immorality side and you're the topper from the morality side. There is no way you two are a good match.” Furthermore, Seulgi points out, saying what Irene hates to hear, ”Wendy isn't interested in you anyway.”

Irene snorts and nudges Seulgi's arm, a pout forming on her lips as she looks around the pitch-black void around and then reaches out for something. “Seriously! You bought that overpriced flavoured bread for her.” Seulgi exclaims out loud watching her hand come back into her vision with an entire box.

“Shush, Kang Seulgi,” Irene snaps her fingers and they find themselves right in front of the comfort lounge designated for students of both good and evil majors. “I heard her complaining to that tall devil about running out of her favourite bread. She won't be able to resist when I give her these. I got the biggest box with all her favourite flavours.” She boasts and enters the password as they make their way inside.

Turns out, she was wrong. Very wrong.

Irene clenches her jaw, her eyes widening in pure disbelief as she watches the box of bread she brought for Wendy get demolished by her friends instead. She blinks and looks at Wendy who doesn't seem too sad about her gift getting passed around the entire room. She forces herself to smile as Wendy walks over to her with an almost empty box. “Irene ssi it's really kind of you to do this. I guess they like this bread too.” A child-like gleeful smile rests on Wendy's lips as she takes a bite out of the red bean bread. It irks her when she figures out that the tug of Wendy's lips is as fake as hers, the only difference is that Wendy isn't even trying to hide it because her stone-cold siren eyes give it away.

She stretches her lips to form an unnatural yet convincing smile. She feels her fingers flinch itching to release some of that frost to ease the pain she just felt from the rejection until the box shoved on her hand gets rid of that urge when she spots one last piece of bread, unusually warm with chocolate oozing out from it. “Treat yourself, Irene sii.” Wendy pats her shoulder and waves at her as she walks out of the room along with most of her friends.

She slouches on the couch with the bread shoved inside her mouth. She was so sure that it'll work this time. “She's doing it on purpose.” Jennie chuckles from the opposite side, sitting on her massage chair as she raises the small piece of bread in her hand before she lunches on it. “There is no way she doesn't know you're trying to woo her,” laughs the cat-eyed girl making Seulgi break into a chuckle too.

“She literally went through that cringe note of you saying 'especially for you Wannie' and thought it was for everyone,” Seulgi covers her mouth with her hands unable to stop the sound of muffled laughter reaching Irene's ears. “She's toying with you so badly it's both painful and funny to watch.” She pouts remembering that behind that angelic face, there is a cold-hearted person who probably loves to watch her suffer.

Irene sinks deeper into the couch and munches on the remaining of her bread, trying to drown herself in the misery of getting rejected again. “She's probably not too fond of all this. Being a topper here already brings so much popularity and to think that she's from The Shon clan. Everyone is on her tail, just like you get annoyed and overwhelmed by all those suitors, she probably feels the same. Students from both the good and the evil side are trying to court her. It can be pretty overwhelming for someone whose only best friend in the entire school practically forced her to be her best friend.” Jennie walks up to her and offers a squeeze on her shoulder, easing the pain of rejection a little.

“So, is she going to die like some virgin mary or something?” Jennie's sympathetic consoling goes over her head as Irene buries her face in the palm of her hands, cursing out her fate for not letting her have the girl of her dreams just because god woke up one day and decided that it was a good idea to divide hierarchies into two groups. “Enemies to lovers literally exist!”

“Uh–I mean she could just go out with someone from the evil side,” Seulgi proposes, which she immediately regrets when Irene throws a sharp frosted boulder toward her which turns out to be that bread box manipulated into a sharp object by Irene's powers.

“Not a single word about my future wife being someone else's!” Irene's eyes turn blue as she glares at Seulgi threatening her. “To be honest I sometimes think she's pretending to be evil and is actually on the good side,” Irene twitches her fingers, still wanting to let off some more steam by unleashing those frosts that were forming on her fingertips.

“I do think something happened when Wendy's family got sorted. I mean they are considered one of the most powerful evil clans and could cause so much havoc without even trying but they barely use their powers. Even Wendy doesn't use them often apart from the practical exams,” Jennie points out, scratching her head, trying to figure out the mysterious persona of a fellow immorality student.

“Exactly!” Irene snaps her fingers as her eyes return to their normal colour. “Just look at her, she doesn't look like she could hurt a fly and even if she does it's probably not her fault. Have you seen her walking with that default pout on her face? The way those doe eyes glimmer like she's some lost samoyed, so tiny and squishy. What kind of evil person looks like that?” She reasons, her mind already replaying the cute image of Wendy she has made up in her head.

“Probably, the person that rejects all your advances on purpose despite knowing that you're head over heels for her—Irene-ssi.” Seulgi quips and twirls her fingers, casting a shield above her just in case Irene decides to throw stuff at her again.

Frustrated and agitated, Irene stands up. She clenches her wrist as the frosty spikes start to appear on her knuckles, her eyes turn blue again and the strands of hair turn silver.

“Seven days! Give me seven days and by the end of next week she'll be mine.”

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Headmistress Kwon Boa fixes her glasses and eyes Irene suspiciously, wondering why is she suddenly suggesting the school management to arrange a dinner between the top students out of the blue, “Your suggestion doesn't make any sense unless you are planning to harm our students from the other side, Miss Bae.”

Irene snorts and holds the urge to throw a tantrum. Only if she knew that Headmistress Boa was this stubborn, and would've kidnapped Wendy instead of going out of her way to make it all seem less sceptical, “I'm doing this to promote goodwill among all students. It'll be good for the top students to interact and give the message that there are no hard feelings between the two sides as people assume.”

“You do realise I have mind-reading abilities, Miss Bae.” Headmistress Boa raises her brows unimpressed and shakes her head at her.

“Okay,” she groans and stands up walking to the desk. "I want to court her and she wouldn't want to be in the same room as me willingly—so I came up with this. Help me out Headmistress Boa, you still owe me for helping you that one time," she pleads.

The middle-aged woman looks up and rubs her chin, a tired sigh escaping from her mouth as she shakes her head again, “Fine. I'll inform Miss Son about your 'date' for tonight .”

Irene smiles smugly and punches the air. She heads to the door when Headmistress Boa speaks, “Make sure no one finds out about me helping you.”

“Will do,” Irene shrugs and walks out.

Back in her dorm room, she stares at the calendar on her desk. Her finger points out that it is already Monday on the calendar, which means she has seven days including today to convince Wendy to let her court her.

Honestly, now that she looks back at her conversation with Seulgi and Jennie back in the lounge, she feels dumb for making that bet with Seulgi because there is almost no chance of Wendy letting her in but all she can do is hold onto that almost and see where it leads her.

She huffs and lets herself fall on her mattress. It's been a good couple of years since she came across that girl—bumped would be a better word to describe their first interaction, a terrible first interaction on her part. She was frantically looking for her timetable in her bag while navigating through the bustling hallways of the school when she forgot to look around and bumped into the girl and spilled her iced tea all over her uniform. She had prepared herself to be destroyed the moment she noticed the emblem used for the immorality but all she got was an uninteresting stare in return before Wendy crossed her fingers and looped them, restoring not only her neat and clean uniform but her iced tea too. Before she could utter an apology the unbothered girl was already down the hallway.

“You're dead Bae Joohyun,” Irene curses under her breath sensing a teleportation void in her room and it's not that hard to know who made it because she can see Wendy's withering scowl from the corner of her eyes. She shakes her head, slapping her cheeks, cursing out her dumb lovesick mind for even thinking she could have her way with Wendy.

“Irene!” Wendy grits her teeth and it makes her consider her life choices even more when she sees the girl poke the side of her cheek with her tongue. Bring back her Samoyed Wannie. This Wolf Wannie scares her.

“H…Hi, Wannie.” She stammers as she closes her eyes shut for a moment realising the term she used to greet the girl and starts to recite her death wish in her heart.

“The date…you asked Headmistress Boa to arrange it didn't you,” Wendy's siren eyes stare right into her soul. It makes her quiver for some reason.

“Wan ah just go out with me.” Irene whines, stomping her feet on the ground like a whiny child in a toy store when they don't get the toy they want. “I've been running around you for the past two years and I know very well that you know my intentions then why resist?”

“We aren't compatible Irene,” Wendy sighs. “Our morals lie at the opposite ends of a spectrum!” She exhales exasperated.

“You don't look like someone who can commit evil things.” She shrugs despite knowing that one swirl of Wendy's hand can cause utter destruction, “Unless those things concern you and me…and a bed.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” Wendy raises her brow and within a second her eyes flash red and she starts to float above Irene's head. “I can turn you into ashes in an instant.”

“Go ahead,” Irene challenges and stands straight with her arms spread. “Do it,” she grins and leans forward. “I'm all yours.”

Wendy exhales, shaking her head in despair. She looks away gulping as her siren eyes disappear for a mere moment before they make their way back when she looks at Irene, “I…can't.” Wendy sighs and settles back on the floor.

Thick silence envelopes them until Wendy's teleportation void starts to make a static noise indicating that it's gonna close within a minute and leave her there if she doesn't go back in it. The younger girl turns around and heads toward the void when Irene's voice makes her stop on her steps. She grabs the tie of her uniform and pulls her close catching the younger girl off-guard, making her flustered. She grins crossing her arms after she pushes the younger girl inside the void moments before it closes.

“You aren't getting rid of me that easily, Son Seungwan.”

Sitting across the girl of her dreams, she gleefully sips on her drink. Wendy looks even more beautiful with her forehead exposed and her furrowed eyebrows, well, she is glaring at her but Irene would consider that as staring, isn't her future wife so romantic.

“This is a waste of time,” a displeased growl escapes from the latter's mouth, shoving a spoonful of spaghetti in her mouth.

“Stop being such a wuss,” rolling her eyes, she reaches out for Wendy's plate, twirling her fork to get a taste of what the younger girl is eating as well.

Wendy jerks her plate away, glowering. “Don't touch my food.”

“Come on, we're practically on a date. Sharing food is romantic,” Irene grins, completely unfazed by the death glare she's receiving.

“This isn't a date.” Well actually, “This is a school-sanctioned dinner between top students for 'academic fellowship,” Wendy uses air quotes, her voice dripping with disdain.

“Blah blah blah…. proper name…. place name…. backstory stuff…” Irene shrugs and takes another sip of her drink. “You look beautiful tonight, by the way. Did you do something different with your hair?”

Before Wendy can respond with what Irene assumes would be another cutting remark, the restaurant starts to shake. At first, it's subtle—just a gentle tremor that makes the water glasses ripple. But within seconds, it escalates into a full earthquake.

The chandelier above their table begins to sway dangerously. Other diners scream and dive under tables as plates crash to the floor and windows crack from the pressure.

“What the hell—” Irene starts, but she's cut off when she sees Wendy's eyes flash that dangerous crimson red for just a split second before returning to normal. The younger girl looks as confused as everyone else, but there's something in her expression that makes Irene's stomach drop.

A massive crack splits the ceiling directly above their table, and chunks of plaster begin raining down. Irene quickly raises her hands, creating a protective ice barrier over them both, but the damage is done. The romantic dinner is ruined, other patrons are injured, and sirens are already wailing in the distance.

“I have to go,” Wendy says quietly, standing up so abruptly her chair falls backward.

“Wendy, wait—”

But she's already gone, dissolved into shadows before Irene can finish her sentence.

Irene sits alone among the chaos, staring at the empty chair across from her. The ice barrier melts around her as she lets her powers relax, and she can't shake the image of those red eyes from her mind.

Day one: Earthquake during dinner. Six more to go.

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“You're insane if you think I'm going anywhere with you after what happened yesterday,” Wendy says without looking up from her advanced necromancy textbook. She's sitting in the library's restricted section, surrounded by towering bookshelves that seem to lean inward like they're listening to their conversation.

Irene plops down in the chair across from her anyway, setting down two cups of coffee. “It was just an earthquake. Natural disasters happen.”

“Not during dinner dates they don't.” Wendy finally looks up, and Irene notices the dark circles under her eyes, like she didn't sleep at all last night. “Especially not when the epicenter was directly under our table.”

“Correlation doesn't imply causation,” Irene says, pushing one of the coffee cups toward Wendy. “Besides, I brought you your favorite—vanilla latte with extra foam.”

Wendy stares at the cup like it might explode. “How do you even know that's my favorite?”

“I stalk you, duh.” Irene takes a sip of her own coffee, trying to look casual. “So, about today. I was thinking we could study together. I know you have that advanced demonology exam coming up.”

“I study alone.”

”But imagine how much more efficient it would be with a study partner. I could help you with the theoretical aspects, and you could show me some of those impressive practical applications.”

Wendy closes her book with a sharp snap. “Irene, I'm trying to protect you.”

“From what? A little magical studying?” Irene leans forward, her voice softening. She reaches out to hold her hand, ”Wan ah, whatever you think is going to happen—”

“It's not what I think, it's what I know.” Wendy's voice is barely above a whisper. “Bad things happen when I let people get close. Always.”

But Irene is nothing if not persistent. “Just one hour. Please? If anything weird happens, I'll leave you alone for the rest of the week.”

Wendy looks at her for a long moment, and Irene can see the internal battle playing out across her features. Finally, she sighs. “One hour. But we study in the lower archives where there are fewer people around.”

“Ooo,” wiggling her eyebrows, Irene takes a sip of her coffee, “What is on your mind little demon? Why do you want us to be alone, huh?”

The lower archives are exactly as creepy as they sound—dusty, dimly lit, and filled with books that occasionally whisper to themselves. But Irene doesn't care because she's sitting next to Wendy, close enough to catch hints of her vanilla perfume, watching her graceful fingers turn the pages of ancient texts.

“You're not even paying attention,” Wendy says after catching Irene staring for the third time.

“I am. You were explaining the difference between summoning circles and binding circles.”

“That was twenty minutes ago. I've moved on to theoretical applications of temporal manipulation.”

”Right. Time magic.” Irene nods sagely, having no idea what Wendy just said. “Very... timey.”

Wendy actually cracks a small smile at that, and Irene's heart does a little flip. “You're hopeless.”

“Hopelessly charming?”

“Hopelessly something.”

She pouts which makes Wendy laugh more and eventually Irene breaks into laughter too.

They're both laughing when it happens. A book falls from one of the high shelves, which wouldn't be unusual except that it's a massive tome that definitely should have been secured. It plummets straight toward Wendy's head.

Irene reacts on instinct, throwing herself sideways to tackle Wendy out of the way. They tumble to the floor in a tangle of limbs just as the book crashes into the table where Wendy had been sitting, splitting the ancient wood in half.

But that's just the beginning. More books start falling, dozens of them, as if some invisible force is pulling them from the shelves. The air grows cold, and Irene can see her breath as frost begins forming on the walls.

“My powers,” Irene gasps, trying to rein in the ice that's spreading from her fingertips. But her emotions are too high, her protective instincts in overdrive, and she can't control it, “God! Why are they not working?”

Beneath her, Wendy's eyes are glowing that ominous red again, and shadows are writhing around them like living things. The combination of ice and shadow magic is turning the archives into a supernatural disaster zone.

“I have to—” Wendy starts to push Irene away, but more books come crashing down, forcing them to stay pressed together as she raises her hand in the hair to create a black hole around them to stop the books from falling on top of them. 

When the chaos finally stops, they're breathing hard, still tangled together on the floor. Wendy lowers her hands, it's shaking. The colors have been drained from her face because it takes massive strength to just form a black hole let alone make a shield with it. Irene looks at her, realizing that her hand was cupping her cheek all along and that they are close enough that she can feel Wendy's ragged breathing on her lips.

“This is exactly what I was afraid of,” Wendy whispers, but she doesn't move away.

“What, a few falling books?” Irene lost in her eyes doesn't pay much attention to the chaos around them.

“Irene.” Wendy's voice is pained. “Look around.”

Irene does. The entire archive section is destroyed, books scattered everywhere, shelves collapsed, ice coating every surface, some shelves are missing and scorch marks on the walls where Wendy's shadow magic went wild.

“I hurt you,” Wendy says, finally noticing the cut on Irene's arm where a falling book grazed her.

“It's just a scratch.” She shrugs, not even feeling the pain.

“It's never just anything with me.” Wendy scrambles to her feet, backing away. “This is why I can't—why we can't—”

And once again, she disappears into shadows before Irene can argue.

Day two: Hurricane inside the library. Five more to go.

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Irene finds Wendy in the greenhouse dome, tending to what looks like a garden of carnivorous plants. She's wearing gardening gloves and humming softly to herself, looking more relaxed than Irene has ever seen her.

“Don't even think about it,” Wendy says without turning around, apparently sensing Irene's presence.

“I brought lunch.” Irene holds up a basket. “Homemade sandwiches. Very non-threatening sandwiches.”

“After what happened yesterday?” Wendy raises her brow, not even turning around to look at her.

“I don't know what happened yesterday.” She plays dumb, “Aside from us almost kissing in my books. That was just a little magical feedback. Happens all the time when powerful mages are in close proximity.”

Wendy turns to face her, a sigh escaping from her lips, but there is also warmth spreading across her cheeks. “Is that what we're calling it?”

“That's what I'm calling it.” Irene sets the basket down on a nearby potting table. “Look, I know you think something's wrong, but maybe the problem isn't you. Maybe it's me, my ice powers have been acting up lately.”

“Joohyun…” 

“Wan ah, just let me in…”

Wendy turns back around, going back to focus on her plants, “Leave. Or else. I’m going to throw you into the shadow void.”

“Just eat lunch with me. I haven't eaten yet.” Irene pouts, “We are in a greenhouse.What's the worst that could happen?”

Wendy looks at the basket, then at her plants, then back at Irene. It is insane how much she gives in to her without even wanting to. “These are very delicate specimens. Some of them are extinct in the wild.”

“I'll be careful. Scout's honor.”

“You were never a scout.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because scouts learn to tie proper knots, and I've seen you try to tie your shoes.”

Irene gasps in mock offense, “My shoe-tying skills are perfectly adequate, thank you very much.”

Despite wanting to hold herself back, Wendy smiles. “Fine. But we eat over there, away from the rare species.”

They settle on a bench near some relatively normal-looking (though still massive) sunflowers. Irene unpacks the sandwiches with a flourish, proud of her culinary efforts.

“Turkey and swiss with homemade bread,” she announces. “And before you ask, yes, I actually made the bread myself. Asked the kitchen staff to teach me.”

Wendy takes a bite and her eyes widen slightly. “This is... actually good.”

*Don't sound so surprised. I have many hidden talents.”

“Such as?”

“Well, I can juggle. I speak four languages. I once arm-wrestled a seventh-year demon studies major and won.”

“You juggle?”

“Want me to demonstrate?” Without waiting for an answer, Irene grabs three small tomatoes from the greenhouse supplies and starts juggling them with impressive skill.

Wendy actually laughs, her eyes beam, chuckles escape from her mouth. It is a genuine laugh that makes Irene's chest feel warm. “Show off.”

“You haven't seen anything yet.” To see that smile for a few more seconds, Irene tries to add a fourth tomato to the mix.

That's when things go wrong.

She misses the catch, and the tomato goes flying toward one of Wendy's precious plants. In her panic to catch it, Irene lunges forward, accidentally activating her ice powers. The tomato freezes mid-air, but so does everything else within a six-foot radius.

Including the sprinkler system.

The frozen pipes burst, sending water everywhere. But because of Irene's ice magic, the water immediately freezes into sharp icicles that start raining down throughout the greenhouse.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no—” Irene tries to stop her powers, but her panic is making everything worse.

Wendy jumps up to help, her shadow magic instinctively rising to defend them. But the combination of her defensive shadows and Irene's ice creates a supernatural storm inside the greenhouse dome. Plants that took decades to grow are being destroyed in seconds.

“The Midnight Orchids!” Wendy cries out, rushing toward a section of extremely rare black flowers.

An icicle the size of a sword is falling straight toward them. Without thinking, Irene grabs Wendy by her arm and pulls her towards herself as they crash into a pile of potting soil.

When the chaos finally stops, they're covered in dirt, the greenhouse looks like a war zone, and at least half of the rare specimens are destroyed.

“I'm so sorry,” Irene whispers, still covering Wendy with her body. She knows that she messed up and Wendy might never want to see her again,"I'll replace everything, I'll—"

“You can't replace extinct species, Irene,” Wendy says quietly, but there's no anger in her voice. Just sadness.

“Then I'll... I'll find new ones? I'll fund expeditions, I'll—” She says desperate. There is something about sadness in those eyes that she doesn't like.

“Stop.” Wendy places a dirty hand on Irene's cheek. “Just stop.”

They stare at each other for a moment, and Irene thinks maybe, just maybe, this could be the moment where everything changes. Where Wendy finally admits that she feels something too.

Instead, Wendy's eyes fill with tears. “I can't keep watching you get hurt because of me.”

“I'm not hurt—” Huh, she looks at herself, trying to find any signs of getting hurt. But she feels fine, there is no pain whatsoever.

“You're bleeding again.” Wendy touches a cut on Irene's forehead where she hit a broken pot during their fall.

And then she's gone, leaving Irene alone among the wreckage of what was supposed to be a simple lunch.

Day three: Disaster in greenhouse. Four more to go.

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By Thursday, word has gotten around school about Irene's disastrous attempts at wooing Wendy. Students from both sides are placing bets on what will go wrong next, and Irene is pretty sure she saw someone selling popcorn outside the main hall.

“Maybe you should give up,” Seulgi suggests as they walk to their Theoretical Ethics class. “I mean, three disasters in three days? That's not a coincidence anymore.”

“I don't give up.”

“This isn't giving up, it's called reading the room. The room is on fire, Irene. Literally, in some cases.”

Irene ignores her and pushes open the classroom door. Theoretical Ethics is one of the few classes where good and evil students mix freely, which means it's her best chance to see Wendy in a controlled environment.

Wendy is already there, with the tall devil Joy right beside her, sitting in the back row with her hood up, clearly trying to be invisible. She looks exhausted, and Irene wonders if she's been sleeping at all.

“Miss Bae, Miss Son,” Professor Park calls out as Irene enters. “Perfect timing. Today we're discussing the ethics of forbidden relationships. Why don't you both come up and help me demonstrate?”

Irene's heart sinks. Of all the days for their professor to pick this topic...

“Actually, Professor Park, I don't think—” Wendy starts to protest.

“Nonsense. You're both top students, and this is exactly the kind of complex moral scenario that requires multiple perspectives.”

Reluctantly, they both make their way to the front of the classroom. Professor Park conjures two podiums facing each other, and suddenly Irene realizes this is set up like a debate.

“Miss Bae, you'll argue for the position that love transcends moral boundaries. Miss Son, you'll argue against. Begin.”

Wendy shoots Irene a panicked look, but there's no getting out of it now. Half the class is leaning forward in anticipation, probably hoping for another supernatural disaster. Some of them have even bet on it, so this is important for them.

“Right,” Irene starts, trying to stay focused on the assignment and not on the way Wendy looks when she's nervous. “Love is the most powerful force in any universe. It brings out the best in people, helps them grow beyond their limitations, and creates connections that make us stronger.”

“Counter-point,” Wendy says quietly, staring at her hands instead of at Irene. “Love can be destructive. When two people are fundamentally incompatible, their connection can cause harm to themselves and others. Sometimes the most loving thing you can do is walk away.”

“But what if that incompatibility is just an illusion?” Irene steps closer to her podium. “What if society's rules about who can love whom are arbitrary? What if the only thing standing between two people is fear?”

Wendy finally looks up, and her eyes are blazing with emotion. “What if it's not fear but experience? What if one person knows, with absolute certainty, that they're dangerous? That everyone they've ever cared about gets hurt?”

The classroom has gone dead silent. This isn't theoretical anymore. Everyone knows their history, this is about them.

“What if the other person doesn't care?” Irene's voice is soft now, meant only for Wendy. “What if they think the risk is worth it?”

“What if they're wrong?” Wendy's voice breaks slightly. “What if love isn't enough to overcome some obstacles?”

“What if it is?” Irene looks at her, her eyes gleaming with the kind of longing she didn't even know was possible to exhibit through her eyes.

They're staring at each other across the space between the podiums, and Irene can feel the electricity in the air—literal electricity, which is concerning because neither of them has electrical powers.

“Excellent passion, ladies,” Professor Park says, oblivious to the tension. “Now, let's open it up to class discussion—”

That's when the lights go out.

Emergency lighting kicks in a second later, bathing everything in an eerie red glow. The classroom door slams shut and won't budge when students try to open it. The windows fog over with condensation, and the temperature starts fluctuating wildly—hot, then cold, then hot again.

“What's happening?” someone shouts.

“The building's magic is going haywire,” another student calls out.

Irene looks at Wendy and sees her own realization reflected in the other girl's eyes. It's not the building's magic. It's theirs. The emotional intensity of their debate has caused their powers to react to each other in ways that are affecting the entire structure.

“Everyone stay calm,” Professor Park orders, but his voice wavers as books start flying off the shelves and the blackboard cracks down the middle.

Wendy closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, visibly trying to control her magic. Irene does the same, but the harder they try to rein in their powers, the more chaotic everything becomes.

The classroom ceiling starts to crack. Chunks of plaster rain down on terrified students who huddle under their desks.

“We have to get out of here,” Wendy whispers.

“The door won't open.” Irene looks towards the door, where students are still trying to open it.

“Not the door.” Wendy's eyes flash red, and shadows start gathering around her feet. “Hold onto me.”

“Wendy, you are not using your void here. You barely have any control over your powers, you could—”

“Just trust me.”

Irene grabs Wendy's hand without hesitation. The shadow portal opens beneath them, and they fall through just as the ceiling collapses where they'd been standing.

They tumble out of the portal in the empty courtyard, landing in a heap on the grass. Behind them, they can see emergency crews already rushing toward their classroom building.

Sitting on the bench, Wendy pulls her hood back over herself, looking at the chaos they have caused yet again. She closes her eyes to activate her psychic powers, seeing what happened in the classroom after they teleported.

“Is everyone okay?” Irene asks, trying to catch her breath.

“Professor Park got them all out through the windows,” Wendy says, and Irene realizes she's been crying. “But three students are in the infirmary. Because of us. Because of me.”

“Wendy—” Irene reaches out to wipe her tears.

“Don't.” Wendy stands up, backing away. “I can't do this anymore, Irene. I can't keep pretending this isn't my fault.”

“It's not your fault. These things just happen—”

“Three times? Four times?” Wendy shakes her head. “How many more people have to get hurt before you understand that I'm cursed? That everything I touch turns to disaster?”

“You're not cursed. You're—” She reasons. Hating the way Wendy is belittling herself.

“I'm cursed!” The words explode out of Wendy like she's been holding them back for years. “My family has been cursed for generations. Everyone we love, everyone who gets close to us, suffers for it. That's why we stay on the evil side, Irene. Not because we want to hurt people, but because we already do just by existing.”

Irene stares at her, finally understanding. “That's why you won't let me close.”

“That's why I can't.” Wendy wipes her eyes angrily. “And that's why this stops now. No more attempts, no more 'coincidental' meetings, no more anything. I won't let you get hurt because of me.”

Before Irene can respond, Wendy creates a void for herself and disappears into it. Leaving Irene alone with the sound of sirens and her breaking heart.

Day four: Heatwave and Coldwave with a landslide in the classroom. Three more to go.

✧⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ ˙✧

Irene doesn't see Wendy all day Friday.

She tries everything—lurking outside Wendy's dorm, hanging around her usual study spots, even bribing that tall devil for information. But it's like the girl has vanished completely.

“She requested a transfer to the off-campus study program,” Seulgi reports after doing some detective work. “Effective immediately.”

“She's running away.”

“Can you blame her? Irene, maybe she's right. Maybe some people aren't meant to be together.”

But Irene has never been good at accepting defeat. She spends Friday evening in the library, researching everything she can about family curses, particularly ones affecting the Shon clan. Most of the information is locked away in restricted sections, but being a top student has its privileges.

What she finds makes her stomach drop.

The Shon family curse is real. And it's much worse than she imagined.

For seven generations, every member of the Shon family who has fallen in love has brought disaster upon their beloved. The records are horrifying, mysterious accidents, sudden illnesses, deaths that seemed coincidental but followed a pattern too consistent to ignore.

Wendy's great-great-grandmother fell in love with a mortal man. He died in a carriage accident the day before their wedding.

Her great-grandmother loved a fellow mage. He lost his magic overnight and never recovered.

Her grandmother married for love. Her husband developed a wasting disease that no healer could cure.

Wendy's own parents... Irene stops reading when she gets to that entry. She understands now why Wendy is so afraid.

But Irene has never been the type to accept "impossible" as an answer.

She stays up all night, reading every book on curses, protective magic, and love spells she can get her hands on. By dawn, she has a plan. It's dangerous, potentially stupid, and definitely against school rules.

Perfect.

Day five: research. Two more days to go.

✧⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ ˙✧

Irene finds Wendy in the place she should have looked first—the school's memorial garden, sitting by the small shrine dedicated to students who died young.

“You found me,” Wendy says without looking up. Irene's magical presence is imbued within her and it is on purpose. So every time she is near her, Wendy can immediately do something to not come across her. She's holding a small white flower, twirling it between her fingers.

“I know about the curse.” Irene says quietly, not knowing how to do this. Considering what happened to Wendy's parents, she doesn't even know how she is supposed to make her feel better.

Wendy's hand stills. “Then you know why I had to disappear.”

“I know why you think you had to.” Irene sits down beside her on the stone bench, careful to maintain some distance. “I also know there might be a way to break it.”

“Irene, no.” Wendy turns to face her, eyes wide with panic. “Whatever you're thinking—”

“The curse feeds on separation,” Irene says quickly before Wendy can vanish again. “I spent all night researching it. Every single time a Shon family member tried to distance themselves from their love to protect them, the curse got stronger. The disasters got worse.”

“That's not—”

“Your great-great-grandmother. She tried to break up with her fiancé the week before their wedding because she was having nightmares about something bad happening to him. The curse killed him the next day.”

Wendy goes pale. “How do you know that?”

“Because I read her diary. It's in the restricted archives.” Irene pulls out a leather-bound journal. “She wrote about trying to push him away to save him. The curse punished her by taking him anyway.”

“Even if that's true, it doesn't mean—”

“Your grandmother tried to divorce her husband when he started getting sick. The curse made him worse out of spite.”

Wendy takes the journal from her hands,  “Stop.”

“The curse doesn't want to protect people from you, Wendy. It wants to keep you isolated and miserable. And the only way it can do that is by making you believe that love is dangerous.” Irene reasons.

“But it is dangerous. You've seen what happens when we're together.” Wendy counters.

“What I've seen,” Irene says carefully, “is two scared people with powerful magic having emotional reactions that cause their powers to spike. That's not a curse, that's just... being teenagers with supernatural abilities.”

Wendy shakes her head. “The pattern—”

“What if we're the ones who can break the pattern?” Irene reaches out slowly, telegraphing her movement so Wendy can pull away if she wants to. “What if instead of running from this, we face it head-on?”

“And if you're wrong? If something terrible happens to you? I would have to live the rest of my life blaming myself.”

“Then at least I'll have tried. At least I won't spend the rest of my life wondering 'what if.'”

Wendy stares at their joined hands. “I can't lose you, Hyun. I can't be responsible for hurting you.”

“You won't lose me, Wan ah. And you're not responsible for anything except your own choices.” Irene squeezes gently. “Choose to trust me. Choose to trust us.”

For a moment, Irene thinks Wendy might say yes. The smaller girl is leaning into her touch, and her defenses seem to be crumbling.

Then the memorial shrine behind them explodes.

Not metaphorically. Literally explodes, sending chunks of marble flying in every direction. This time Wendy is very much in control of her powers so she creates a time barrier between them and the explosion, taking them into the timeline where the explosion has already happened.

When the dust settles, the entire memorial garden is destroyed. Ancient trees are uprooted, flower beds are smoking craters, and the shrine—which had stood for over a century—is nothing but rubble.

“This is what I mean,” Wendy whispers as Irene holds onto her. “This is what happens when I let myself hope.”

But Irene is staring at the destruction with growing realization. “Wendy. Look at the pattern of the damage.”

“What?”

“Look.” Irene helps Wendy sit up, pointing at the way the explosion radiated outward. “It didn't start from us. It started from the shrine itself.”

Wendy follows her gaze and gasps. She's right, the epicenter of the explosion was the memorial shrine, not their location on the bench.

“Something was in the shrine,” Irene continues, excitement building in her voice despite the circumstances. “Something that reacted when you started to let your guard down.”

“That's impossible.”

“Is it?” Irene stands up, brushing debris off her clothes. “What if the curse isn't just some abstract family legacy? What if it's something concrete? Something that can be found and destroyed?”

Wendy stares at the rubble of the shrine, and for the first time since Irene has known her, she looks hopeful instead of afraid.

“One more day,” she says quietly.

“What?”

“You said seven days. Tomorrow is day seven.” Wendy meets Irene's eyes. “If you're right about this, if there really is something we can do…”

“There is.”

“Then we do it tomorrow. Together.”

Day six: revelation. One more day to go.

✧⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ ˙✧

They meet at dawn in Headmistress Boa's office. Irene had to call in several favors and promise to clean the dormitory bathrooms for a month, but the headmistress finally agreed to help them access the school's deepest archives.

“This is highly irregular,” Headmistress Boa mutters as she leads them through corridors Irene didn't even know existed. “Students aren't supposed to know about the sub-basement levels, let alone have access to them.”

“We'll be careful,” Wendy promises.

“That's what I'm afraid of. Your definition of 'careful' seems to involve a lot of property damage.” The Headmistress glares at them through her glasses. Just thinking about how much power she had to use in time reversal magic makes her head hurt again.

The sub-basement is exactly as creepy as it sounds—all stone walls and flickering torches, like something out of a gothic novel. But it's also where the school keeps its oldest and most dangerous artifacts.

“The Shon family records should be in Section Seven,” Headmistress Boa says, handing them each a torch. “You have two hours before I have to report this to the Board of Directors. Try not to die down here.”

She leaves them alone in the depths of the school, and suddenly the magnitude of what they're attempting hits Irene. They're looking for the source of a centuries-old curse with nothing but a theory and a lot of determination.

“Having second thoughts?” Wendy asks, noticing her hesitation.

"Never." Irene grins.

They make their way through the archives, past shelves of dusty tomes and cases of mysterious artifacts that seem to watch them as they pass. Section Seven is in the deepest part of the basement, behind a door that requires both of them to place their hands on a magical scanner simultaneously.

“Interesting,” Wendy murmurs as the door swings open. “It requires both good and evil magic to access.”

Inside, they find not books, but artifacts. Dozens of them, each labeled with a family name and date. The Shon collection takes up an entire wall.

“Look for anything from seven generations ago,” Irene suggests. “Around the time the curse started.”

They search methodically, examining each artifact. Most of them seem benign, jewelry, photographs, personal effects. But at the very back of the collection, Wendy finds something that makes her gasp.

“Irene. Look at this.”

It's a mirror, ornate and ancient, with a silver frame covered in runes that seem to shift and move when you're not looking directly at them. The glass itself is black as night, and staring into it makes Irene's skin crawl.

“What is it?”

Wendy reads the placard beneath it. “A scrying mirror, created by…” Her voice trails off. “Oh gods. It was created by my great-great-great-grandmother. The one who started the curse.”

“What does the placard say?”

“It says she made it to ensure her descendants would never suffer the pain of unrequited love.” Wendy's voice is barely a whisper. “She created the curse on purpose.”

“What?”

“She was rejected by someone she loved, and she was so heartbroken that she created a curse to make sure none of her descendants would ever have to go through the same thing.” Wendy sinks down onto a nearby chair. “The curse was supposed to protect us from heartbreak by making love itself impossible.”

“But it backfired,” Irene realizes. “Instead of preventing heartbreak, it just... postponed it. Made it worse.”

“The mirror.” Wendy stands up suddenly. “It's not just a record of the curse. It's the source. She bound the curse to this mirror so it would last forever.”

Irene looks at the dark glass and sees their reflection—but it's wrong somehow. In the mirror, they're standing farther apart, and their reflections look afraid of each other.

“So we destroy it?”

“It's not that simple. Look at the warning label.”

Irene reads the small text at the bottom of the placard: “Caution: Artifact may only be destroyed by a willing act of love between two people the curse has attempted to separate. Failure may result in the curse becoming permanently bound to both parties.”

"A willing act of love," Irene repeats. "What does that mean?"

“I don't know,” Wendy takes a shaky breath. “Weren’t my parents in love with each other then why didn't it end?”

“Uh…maybe because they didn't do it in front of the mirror,” Irene suggests.

“Irene, if we're wrong about this, if the curse can't be broken…” Wendy meets her eyes. “It could bind us together in the worst way possible. We could end up causing disasters for the rest of our lives, everywhere we go.”

“And if we're right?”

“If we're right, we're free.”

Irene doesn't hesitate. She walks over to the mirror and places her palm over Wendy's. Not paying any attention to how the closer they get the more miserable their reflection looks in it, “Then, I’ll free you.”

A willing act of love. She loves Wendy. She has been in love since the day she saw her. There is no doubt in her mind about that. If there is one thing she is sure about in this magical world of uncertainty. It is Seungwan.

“I love you,” Irene says, looking into Wendy's eyes instead of at their reflection. “You are the one and only exception in my life Wan ah. I choose to be with you. It doesn't matter if there is a curse out there that will punish me for loving you. I would still choose us.”

Saying that, she leans closer, pressing her lips against Wendy's. A small sigh escapes from her lips as she finally gets to feel those lips moving against hers. The way Wendy kisses her back tells her everything she needs to know about what she feels.

The glass immediately begins to warm under their touch, and the runes around the frame start glowing with an eerie light. The mirror's surface begins to crack under their hands, spider-web fractures spreading outward from where they're touching. The air around them fills with a low humming sound, like the building itself is singing.

Pulling back, Wendy looks into her eyes, “You’re the only person in this entire world who made me desperate to find a way to break this curse. For you, I choose to stop being afraid.” Joohyun. She loves her, there is no doubt in her mind and she is glad that despite all her fears she was able to tell her that it is not only her, “I love you too.”

“Whatever happens,” Irene smiles, caressing her face, as the cracks spread wider, “I'm glad we tried.”

“Whatever happens, we're facing it together.” Wendy holds onto her tightly, not intending to let go.

The mirror shatters.

But instead of the catastrophic explosion they're expecting, something beautiful happens. Light pours out of the broken glass—warm, golden light that fills the entire room and makes everything glow like sunshine. The oppressive weight that Irene didn't even realize she'd been carrying lifts from her shoulders.

Irene watches as Wendy smiles in amazement. She throws the mirror on the concrete floor and wraps her arms around Wendy's neck. Pulling her in for another kiss and Wendy happily complies.

And for the first time in seven days, when they kiss, nothing goes wrong.

No earthquakes. No explosions. No disasters.

Just two girls, finally free to love each other without fear.

✧⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ ˙✧

The dorm is quiet that night, the only sound is the scratch of Wendy’s pen across paper. Her books are spread out on the desk in neat stacks, her notes meticulous as ever.

Behind her, Irene is stretched across Wendy’s bed, head propped up on one hand, watching with a gaze that’s far too steady. She hasn’t turned the page of her book in twenty minutes.

“You’re glaring holes through your notes,” Irene says at last.

“I’m studying,” Wendy mutters, without looking up.

“You’ve been studying for hours.” Irene’s voice carries that familiar mix of exasperation and warmth. “When you have your beautiful, amazing and desirable girlfriend waiting in bed for you.”

That is the problem. Irene is in her bed. They are alone. And her magic powers are still warming her up which means she should keep her distance for the sake of her own sanity. “If I don’t finish this—”

“You’ll what?” Irene interrupts, smirking. “Lose top marks? Summon another fireball? You’ve already done worse.”

Wendy exhales hard, sets her pen down. She shouldn’t look. Every time she looks, Irene feels like gravity. Dangerous, irresistible.

“Wan,” Irene says, softer now. Almost a plea.

That’s all it takes. Wendy turns. Irene is still sprawled on the bed like she owns it, hair a dark halo against the sheets, expression unreadable but unyielding. Wendy’s chest tightens.

“You said you were here to sleep since Seulgi is throwing a party in your building,” Wendy says, but it comes out weak.

“I will,” Irene replies, holding out a hand. “If you’re beside me.”

The chair scrapes back before Wendy can second-guess herself. She crosses the room, lets Irene tug her down, and suddenly she’s half-sprawled across Irene’s body, laughing breathlessly at the clumsy angle. Irene steadies her with a hand against her jaw, tilts her face up—

—and kisses her.

It starts careful, hesitant, then deepens into something hungrier, sharper, as if all their restraint has finally snapped. Wendy’s hand fumbles against the sheets, then curls tight into Irene’s shirt, pulling her closer. Irene responds with a low sound that makes Wendy shiver.

“This is not sleeping,” Wendy breathes out.

Irene smiles against her lips. “I never specified what kind of sleeping.”

The next kiss leaves no space for words. It’s messier, more urgent, and when Irene rolls them until Wendy is beneath her, Wendy doesn’t protest, she only pulls her closer, surrendering to the inevitable.

While Irene is leaving kisses wherever she desires. Wendy raises her hand and with a single snap of her fingers, she disrupts the electricity in the room, until the room fills with nothing but tangled limbs, quiet laughter, and the sound of their breathing—

—and then the rest fades softly, enough to let the shadows take over.

The next afternoon, the comfort lounge is warm with firelight and the muffled chatter of students. Wendy is stretched out on the couch, head pillowed in Irene’s lap. Irene absently runs her fingers through Wendy’s hair, combing out small tangles, nails scratching gently against her scalp. Wendy hums in contentment, eyes closed, clearly in no hurry to move.

“So,” Seulgi says, settling down at their usual table in the comfort lounge. “It seems like the practicing is paying off. I mean no disasters this week?”

Irene, infuriatingly calm, tucks a strand of Wendy’s hair behind her ear. “Maybe it is,” she says smoothly, utterly unbothered.

“It's very suspicious,” Jennie adds, raising an eyebrow at them. “You two have been inseparable for over a week and nothing has exploded.”

“Maybe we're just getting better at controlling our magic,” Wendy suggests innocently.

Irene and Wendy share a look—a secret smile that says they know exactly why things are different now, but they're not telling.

Outside the windows of the comfort lounge, it starts to snow, but it's the gentle, peaceful kind of snow that makes everything look like a fairytale. Wendy laughs and conjures shadows to dance with the snowflakes, creating patterns in the air that are beautiful instead of destructive.

Seven days of disasters led to a lifetime of love.

And Irene thinks that's a pretty good trade.

Oh, she also won the bet and got the girl.