An accident just happened

After break time, they had English, then Science, then—what was it again?

Zoan groaned, punching the punching bag before collapsing onto her seat, her body sweaty and tired. Sol handed her a towel. "Don't overexert yourself too much; you have classes tomorrow," she reminded her. Zoan huffed, grabbing the towel and began patting down her sweat.

"I was planning to jog—no teachers have assigned any homework yet, so yay," Zoan replied sarcastically, slipping off her sweaty hoodie and tossing it at Sol, who let out a yelp.

"Still, you need to rest. Have an early dinner!" Sol insisted as Zoan slipped into a gray sweatshirt, waving her hand dismissively before heading out of her apartment. She jogged down the stairs, eager to hit the ground.

Sure, she could have taken the elevator, but honestly—she really needed this. It didn't take her long to reach the ground floor, and by that time, she had already jogged out of the building, uninterested in lingering around.

Jogging helped clear her mind, allowing her to relish the fresh air. She spotted some students from Golden High walking home from their evening classes. "Should I also take an evening class?" she mumbled to herself, finally taking a break on a bench, panting slightly as she caught her breath.

She let out a small noise in her throat when she noticed Jiho walking by herself, her head lowered. Her hair looked damp, as if she had just taken a bath.

Did she take a bath? Zoan thought, narrowing her eyes as she watched the girl walk the opposite way. The girl's gait was strange, as if she had hit her hip somewhere and was trying her best to hide the pain.

Zoan blinked before yawning and shrugged slightly. It wasn't really her problem; she barely knew the girl anyway. As she continued on her way, she spotted a playground.

She chuckled at the vibrant colors, as if some unicorn had decided to puke on it. Approaching the monkey bars, she let out a sigh before jumping up to grab the bars. Pulling herself up, she hung in the air for a moment before letting go and falling down.

She did it again, pulling herself up and lowering herself down without letting go, repeating the motion until her arms began to burn. Finally, she decided to stop and sat at the end of the slide, catching her breath.

"Lame," she mumbled to herself. She missed having a sparring partner; a punching bag could only do so much, and a dummy wouldn't last against her.

And there was no way in hell she would let Sol hold a pad—she could never bring herself to hurt that woman, even if her life depended on it. Just then, she heard her phone ring and sighed.

"Hello?" Zoan answered.

"Miss Zoan, come back home. I made dinner for you," Sol said, as if summoned. Zoan broke into a smile, laughing lightly.

She stood up, rolling her ankles. "Wahhh, you're taking care of me so much, Sol-Sol~" Zoan teased as she walked back toward her apartment.

"This is my job, after all," Sol replied, and Zoan chuckled.

"If my father doesn't pay you, would you still continue feeding and taking care of me?" Zoan asked, noticing Sol resist the urge to groan. "Please just get home quickly." Sol ended the call, and Zoan giggled, letting out a bark of laughter.

She did get home quickly, jogging exceptionally fast before entering the code to her door and stepping into her apartment. Sol greeted her with a fresh towel draped over her arm.

"Please take a bath first before eating dinner," she said, her nose curled in disgust. Zoan rolled her eyes. "Aiya, a little sweat makes you act like that, tsk," she replied, shaking her head in disappointment as Sol frowned at her.

"Hey, I'm not letting you sit at the table smelling like Swiss cheese," Sol raised her voice for the first time, then looked surprised, mirroring Zoan's stunned expression.

"Wow… I never knew you could get pissed. But alright, alright, geez," Zoan said, raising her hands as she walked toward the bathroom.

After a quick bath, she left her towel hanging around her neck and finally sat down at the table, resisting the urge to yawn as she watched Sol clean the floor, even though there was no dust or trash in sight.

Zoan smirked, taking a bite of her food as she mindlessly scrolled through her phone, liking some photos her friends had posted.

"Wahh, they're on vacation? On a school day?" she grumbled, scrolling through their pictures, slightly jealous of not being asked to join. But then again, she knew she wouldn't be able to go.

"Who?" Sol asked, turning to her.

Zoan waved a hand, sighing as she closed her phone. "Nothing. Can you open the TV and put it on the news?"

Sol nodded, walking into the living room and switching the channel to the news before leaving the remote on the coffee table.

Zoan sighed, taking another bite of her food. Her hunger had diminished, overshadowed by the thought of being left behind by her friends, as she half-listened to the news.

It was when they mentioned Golden High that she actually looked up from her food, her mouth stuffed as she watched the female reporter on the TV.

"There are quite a lot of transferees for Golden High," the female reporter said. "Ah yeah, Golden High has become quite popular lately, especially after the scandal involving that student who took their life," the male reporter added.

The female reporter gasped. "You're right; this may be the first scandal that Golden High has faced."

Zoan narrowed her eyes, intrigued. Just then, the lights went out, and Sol let out a surprised yell. "A blackout?" Zoan asked, glancing around as the lights flickered on and off, revealing Sol standing in the middle of the living room, looking terrified.

"What a timing, talking about suicide and then the lights going out," Sol murmured, her brows furrowed as the lights continued to flicker before eventually shutting off completely.

Zoan sighed. "Get some candles, will you?" Sol replied with a quick, "Yes."

—

Zoan should have known she would wake up late. She had set her alarm twice: once at 5:00 AM to nudge herself awake without getting out of bed, and again at 6:00 AM to actually rise and prepare. But she completely slept through both alarms until Sol barged into her room, looking frazzled.

"Zoan!" Sol nearly yelled as she yanked the covers off. Zoan groaned, curling up on her side. "You're late!" Sol finally shouted, shaking her until Zoan swatted her hands away.

"I'm sleeping, stop it," Zoan grumbled, still lost in the depths of a good dream, until Sol grabbed her shoulders and forced her to sit up.

Her gaze fell on the digital clock beside her: it was already 6:40 AM.

"Holy shit! Why didn't you wake me?" Zoan yelled, pushing Sol aside as she dashed to the bathroom. She splashed water on her face, wetting her arms and neck, unconcerned about drenching her clothes. In her haste, she nearly tripped on her shorts while switching to a skirt.

"Zoan! Your wig!" Sol knocked on the bathroom door as Zoan fumbled with her shirt buttons. She opened the door just enough to grab the wig and tossed it over the sink without a second thought.

"Do you need help?" Sol asked, her voice muffled as Zoan struggled with one of her buttons, only to realize she had buttoned it wrong.

Zoan groaned, unbuttoning each one and redoing them correctly before slipping on her tie. Just as she was about to leave, she remembered the wig.

She threw it on her head, trying to tuck her real hair underneath. "What the hell, how do I do this?" she muttered to herself, when suddenly the door burst open and Sol stumbled in, causing Zoan to let out a surprised noise and drop the wig as she caught Sol.

"Jesus! I slipped!" Sol cried, gripping a mop with both hands. Zoan stared at her incredulously, arms crossed. "What the hell are you doing, Sol? If you want to take a peek, just say so." She helped Sol regain her balance, dusting off her skirt while Sol blushed.

"The floor was just slippery," Sol reasoned. Zoan let out a sarcastic, "Haha, sure," before turning to grab her wig from the sink—only to find it floating in the toilet bowl, as if enjoying a swim.

"Oh…" Zoan said lamely. Sol peeked over. "Oh."

"I just—dropped my only wig in the toilet," Zoan lamented, running a hand through her hair. Sol winced. "This—this is my fault!" But then her eyes lit up, and she dashed out of the bathroom, leaving Zoan groaning about her terrible luck.

It was probably already 7:10. Not only was she late, but it was her second day in a row. Couldn't she be punctual for once?

"Here!" Sol almost screamed, handing Zoan another wig. It looked similar, except—"It has braids…" Zoan said, holding the pigtail braid as Sol forced her to turn around, quickly placing the wig on her head and pinning it in place with small black pins.

"You're making me look worse and worse," Zoan whined, staring at her reflection. She looked like a goddamn pervert who took pictures of women's skirts every day for a living. Her glasses didn't help at all!

Beside her, Sol snorted before pulling her out of the bathroom and handing her some heeled shoes. "Please hurry up! It's already 7:14," Sol urged.

"I know, I know! This is your fault for making me eat so much food last night!" Zoan growled.