HINT:MERCURIAL

Nana walked briskly through the school corridor, the sound of footsteps echoing in the empty hallways. Her mind was still tangled in the unsettling feeling from the video earlier, but she pushed it aside, forcing herself to focus on the present. The school day had started, and she couldn't afford to be distracted, especially not now.

She entered the classroom, nodding to a few familiar faces as she made her way to her seat. Her bag slipped from her shoulder as she sat down, and she quickly set it on the floor beside her. She glanced up at the clock. She had just a few minutes before class started.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket.

She froze for a moment, heart skipping a beat. She pulled it out, her fingers trembling slightly as she unlocked the screen. The name on the text was blocked again.

"You think you can run, but you can't hide. We're always watching."

Nana's breath caught in her throat. The cold message sent a chill through her, and she quickly locked her phone, slipping it back into her pocket. She didn't have time to react. The bell rang, signaling the start of class, and she forced herself to focus on the teacher as he walked into the room.

But her mind wasn't there. It was elsewhere, consumed by the message. Her hands were cold, her palms damp against the desk. Who was it? Why was someone watching her?

She kept her head low, trying to ignore the buzzing feeling in her chest. She had to make it through the day. She had to keep pretending, keep her mask in place. But the unease lingered, settling into her bones like a poison.

Another buzz. Another message.

She hesitated. But curiosity won over, and she quickly checked the screen again.

"Don't forget, Nana. You'll always be our weapon."

Her blood ran cold. There was no escaping this. It was never over.

Nana stared at the message for a moment, her heartbeat quickening. The words on the screen felt like a challenge, a game she was unwillingly pulled into. But as she read the sentence again, something shifted inside her. Anger. Control. She couldn't keep running from this.

With a steady hand, she typed her reply:

"It would be an honor if you would spare any time to see me… only the two of us."

Her fingers hesitated for a second before she pressed send. The message felt heavier than it should have, but it was a move she had to make. She had to face this—whatever it was—head-on. The silence that followed was suffocating, the weight of the decision settling around her. She had no idea what kind of response she would get, or what would happen next, but she knew one thing for sure: things were no longer going to stay the same.

She slid her phone back into her pocket, trying to regain control of her racing thoughts. She glanced at the clock. It felt like time had slowed, every second dragging on as if it were an eternity.

The bell rang, breaking the tension, but Nana remained still, her mind already racing ahead to what awaited her next.

The classroom buzzed with chatter as the students made their way out to the swimming pool, excitement filling the air. Laughter echoed in the hallways, but Nana felt an eerie silence around her. While everyone else headed to the pool, Nana turned in the opposite direction, her steps echoing through the empty halls.

She didn't take swimming—didn't need to. Instead, she made her way to the music room, the familiar sound of the piano filling her ears as she entered. She took her seat at the violin stand, the cool wood of the instrument resting against her shoulder. The comforting silence of the room, interrupted only by the soft scrape of the bow on the strings, was a welcome escape. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the music flood her senses, the bow moving with practiced ease.

As the melody flowed, her mind drifted, her thoughts half-occupied with the message she had sent earlier. The weight of what she was about to do pressed on her chest like a heavy stone, but it wasn't something she could back out of now.

Just as she hit the final notes of a particularly difficult passage, her phone buzzed on the table beside her. The vibration cut through the stillness like a sharp reminder. She hesitated before setting her violin down, reaching for the phone.

The message was simple, yet it sent a chill down her spine:

"I'll meet you. Same place, same time. I'm looking forward to seeing you."

Nana's hand tightened around her phone as her heart raced. The words were both reassuring and terrifying. There was no turning back now.

She stood up slowly, pacing across the room as the reality of the situation hit her. The music she had just played seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the tension of what was about to unfold. Every step she took, every breath she took, felt heavy. It wasn't just a meeting anymore; it was something far more dangerous. The thought of it, of seeing him again, made her stomach twist in a knot.

But it was too late to change her mind.

Her mind was made up. She had no choice but to face it.

She glanced at the clock, mentally preparing for the rest of the day—fighting the urge to look back at her phone again, but knowing there was no avoiding it.

Nana's heart pounded in her chest as she hurried out of the music room, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. She didn't want to second-guess herself. The moment of hesitation would mean danger. She pressed the call button before she even left the hallway, her mind racing as the phone rang.

The sound echoed in the quiet corridor, a harsh reminder that there was no going back now. Her fingers trembled against the screen. She didn't know what was coming, but she could feel it—an unsettling, unshakable certainty that whatever awaited her would change everything.

The call picked up, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence on the other end. Then, a low, almost amused voice spoke.

"I'm glad you called."

Nana's grip tightened on the phone, the tension in her body rising. She could already hear the smirk in his voice, the underlying menace that sent a chill down her spine.

"Where's the same place you meant?" Nana's voice was steady, though her heart hammered in her chest.

There was a pause, followed by a soft chuckle that made her skin crawl.

"You know where it is, don't you?" he replied, his voice low and teasing. "The place where we first met. The one you tried to run from."

Nana's breath caught in her throat. That place. She knew it all too well. It was where everything had changed. Where everything had started to unravel.

A memory flashed before her eyes—dim lighting, shadows closing in, the feeling of being trapped. The weight of that night hung in the air like a dark cloud.

"Don't waste my time, Nana," the voice continued. "I'm waiting."

The line went dead before she could respond.

Nana stood frozen in the hallway, her mind racing. She had no choice but to go, but now she couldn't help but feel the weight of the situation. She hadn't planned for this. She didn't know what would happen when she walked into that place again. But she was already too deep.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what lay ahead, and turned to head out of the school. The encounter was inevitable. There was no turning back.

Nana chuckled, her laughter echoing in the still air, but it wasn't a sound of amusement—it was a defense mechanism. She took a step back, deliberately avoiding his gaze, refusing to let him see any vulnerability. Her posture was stiff, but her words dripped with an icy indifference.

"Could you hurry it up a little? I don't have all day," she said, her voice casual, but the edge beneath it was sharp, calculated. "Everything you've done since we last met has been nothing but threats, making me feel like my life is hanging by a thread. You don't even bother to explain what's going on. So, why don't you just make it clear? What exactly are you after? What's your real intention?"

The man tilted his head, a twisted smirk playing on his lips as he studied her. Nana's defiant stance seemed to amuse him, though there was something in his eyes—a flicker of something darker—that she couldn't quite place.

"You think you're so clever, don't you?" he said, his voice dripping with mockery. He took another step closer, but Nana didn't flinch. "You've always been good at pretending you have it all figured out, but I can see the cracks, Nana. You can't run forever."

Nana straightened her back, her gaze steely. "Cut the crap. What do you want from me? Because I'm not playing games anymore. Not with you, not with anyone."

The man's smile faltered for a moment, as if he hadn't expected this level of resistance from her. But then, he leaned in slightly, his voice low and dangerous. "You're right, Nana. No more games. I need you to understand this: You're part of something far bigger than you realize. Something that's been planned for a long time. And you, whether you like it or not, are a key piece."

Nana's heart skipped a beat, but she quickly masked her surprise with a scoff. "A key piece? You've lost it. I don't even know what the hell you're talking about."

The man's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing, the smirk gone. "You'll understand soon enough. But not until you stop running from it. You've already made your choice, Nana. And now, it's time for you to face the consequences of it."

Nana swallowed, feeling the weight of his words press down on her. But she wasn't about to back down now. Her voice was firm, unwavering. "I don't owe you anything. And I won't be dragged into whatever mess you're trying to create."

For a moment, the man said nothing. He just stared at her, as if weighing her words, and then his lips curled into a smirk once more. "We'll see about that."

"We'l see about that—She could feel the annoyance prickling at the edges of her mind, like a persistent mosquito refusing to go away."

Nana's voice sliced through the air like a blade, her words dripping with defiance. "Don't be stupid. I've heard that for so many times, and I don't care at all," she said, her eyes locking onto his with unflinching determination.

She took a step forward, her presence commanding, her voice gaining strength. "And I see it now—everything you've dragged me here to say is just a desperate attempt to remind me I'm bigger than I think I am. That I can't just walk away from this, that I'm nothing but a weapon." Her voice rose, echoing off the rooftop. "Oh gosh! I know that already!"

Her fury sharpened into cold steel as she stepped even closer, her words dropping to a low, venomous whisper. "I know I'm a weapon. That's why I'm not afraid of you." Her hand reached up, her arm snaking around his neck with calculated ease, her eyes boring into his. "I don't have to run."

The man froze, his smirk faltering as her grip tightened slightly. Nana's lips twisted into a faint smile, her confidence radiating as she leaned in, her voice like ice. "I know I'm bigger than I ever thought I could be. That's why people listen to my command. And you, you, are nothing but noise to me."

She let the weight of her words sink in before pulling back slightly, her gaze still locked on his. "Or should I remind you of something? You're the one who's triggered, aren't you? Your entire organization is crumbling. Syndicates dismantled. Drugs seized. All your precious 'untouchable' people caught by the police. You're losing everything, piece by piece."

The man's jaw clenched, but Nana didn't let up. Her voice dipped lower, colder, each word like a dagger. "And most importantly, maybe you should pay attention to your surroundings a little more. I heard your dear brother Damien is dead. Tragic, isn't it?" She tilted her head slightly, mock sympathy playing across her face. "But here's the twist—someone from your own organization killed him. In Canada."

His breath hitched, the cracks in his facade starting to show, but Nana didn't give him a moment to recover. "You must be devastated. All your rich benefactors, the ones who lined your pockets, are either dead or in hiding. And now?" Her smile turned razor-sharp. "Now you're left with nothing. No allies. No power. Just you, scrambling for control."

The man's hand twitched, his fury barely contained, but Nana only tightened her grip around his neck, leaning closer. "So tell me, what's it like? To know you've already lost before this fight even started?"

The rooftop was silent except for the sound of his labored breathing, the weight of her words crushing him as she stood there, unshaken, unbroken, and undeniably in control.

After few minutes passed by

Nana tilted her head slightly, a sly smirk tugging at her lips as she loosened her grip just enough to watch him squirm. "You don't seem like you have any words left," she said, her tone almost teasing, her confidence a palpable force in the air.

She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper that sent a chill through him. "Looks like your intention was to threaten me to death," she murmured, her lips curling into a sharper smile. "But here's the twist—" she paused, letting the tension hang in the air, "I hold the reverse card."

The man's eyes flickered with a mix of fear and frustration, but Nana didn't falter. She released him abruptly, stepping back with a deliberate slowness that only heightened her dominance. "So, what's your move now?" she said, her tone dripping with mockery as she crossed her arms, waiting for his response.

The man staggered, regaining his balance, his face twisted in frustration. He wiped the corner of his mouth, trying to mask the fear in his eyes with a strained grin. "You think you've won just because you can play mind games? You have no idea what you're up against."

Nana rolled her eyes and stepped closer again, her shadow casting over him like a looming storm. "And you think I don't?" she shot back, her voice calm but laced with venom. "I've been fighting battles long before you even knew my name."

He took a shaky step backward, but Nana didn't give him room to breathe. She pulled out her phone, casually flipping through messages. "You're not as untouchable as you think. Do you want me to show you what I've been digging up while you've been wasting time trying to intimidate me?"

She turned the screen toward him, showing a series of photos—his associates, locations tied to his organization, and most damning of all, documents Nana had intercepted from their operations. His face paled.

"Recognize these?" Nana asked, tilting her head, her smirk widening. "Or should I start listing names? Oh, wait—some of these people are already… gone." She let the word linger, a pointed jab at the chaos she had clearly orchestrated.

"You—" he began, his voice cracking, but Nana cut him off, stepping even closer until their faces were inches apart.

"Don't." Her voice dropped to a deadly whisper. "Because you're out of cards to play. Leave now, and maybe I won't dismantle what's left of your pathetic empire."

The man's confidence crumbled. He stumbled backward, glaring at her with a mix of anger and fear, but he knew he'd been defeated. Without another word, he turned and bolted for the stairwell, his footsteps echoing in the empty rooftop.

Nana stood there for a moment, watching him disappear, her smirk fading into a cold, unreadable expression. She pocketed her phone, took a deep breath, and glanced at the city skyline.

"Checkmate," she muttered to herself before heading back to her normal life—or whatever version of normal she could still manage.

As Nana descended the rooftop stairs, her phone buzzed again. She sighed, half-expecting another cryptic message or an empty threat from someone too scared to confront her directly. Instead, it was Max.

Max: "Where are you? You're late for class… again. Did you ditch me for another rooftop adventure?"

Nana couldn't help but chuckle, shaking her head. She texted back:

Nana: "Relax, Mr. Punctuality. I'm on my way. Maybe."

She slipped her phone back into her pocket and exited the building, her mind still replaying the encounter. That guy had been a joke—a bad one. But as much as she brushed it off, she couldn't shake the eerie feeling that lingered in the air. He'd said too much, dropped too many hints about the people still lurking in the shadows.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Max's figure came into view near the campus gate, arms crossed, glaring at her with mock seriousness.

"You're unbelievable," he said as she approached.

Nana smirked, brushing past him. "Oh, come on. It's not like I missed anything important. What was it? Another boring lecture about… history?"

Max followed her, clearly exasperated. "It was a test, Nana. A test. You know, the thing where you're supposed to prove you're paying attention in class?"

She rolled her eyes. "I can ace it in my sleep. Besides, history's just a collection of bad decisions made by dead people."

Max stopped in his tracks, giving her a look. "You're impossible."

"And yet, here you are," she teased, flashing a grin before turning toward the main building.

As the classroom buzzed with the frantic scratching of pens, Nana leaned back in her chair, hands behind her head, staring at the ceiling like she was contemplating life. Her paper was finished—every answer written with a confidence that would make even the lecturer question their own knowledge.

She glanced at Max, who was sweating bullets, his pen trembling in his grip as he struggled with a particularly nasty question. Nana smirked, leaned over, and whispered, "Hey, Max. Guess what?"

Max didn't look up. "What?" he muttered, barely keeping his focus.

"I just bullied some guy on the rooftop," Nana said, her voice dripping with mock pride. "He was so annoying. Like, real Ohio behavior."

Max blinked, finally looking up. "Ohio? What does that even—"

"Shh," Nana cut him off, fighting back a laugh. "You wouldn't understand. Anyway, I'm done here. Gonna go find someone else to terrorize. Maybe the vending machine—it's been looking at me funny."

Max's jaw dropped as Nana dramatically stood, grabbed her paper, and strutted to the lecturer's desk like she was accepting an Oscar. She handed it over with a flourish and said, loud enough for everyone to hear, "Best of luck marking that—you're in for a wild ride."

The lecturer raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.

Nana spun around, threw her bag over her shoulder, and gave Max a wink as she passed by. "Don't strain yourself, buddy. I believe in you! …Sort of."

Max groaned. "Why are you like this?"

As the door clicked shut behind her, the classroom fell silent again, but Max couldn't shake the image of Nana bullying someone on the rooftop, probably throwing out one-liners like, "Cry about it!" while flipping her hair.

"She's unbelievable," Max muttered, glaring at his paper. "And now I'm thinking about Ohio. Thanks for nothing, Nana."