Moving to Korea wasn't supposed to feel like this.I had packed my life into a single suitcase, said goodbye to old friends I barely talked to anymore, and boarded the plane thinking, "It's just another school. Nothing new."
When I first stepped through the towering iron gates of Jeong-Hwa Academy, I thought the place looked...normal.Brick buildings. Neatly trimmed trees. Uniforms so clean you could eat off them.The students walked in orderly lines, faces blank or buried in their phones.
But something was off.The way their eyes darted sideways.The way their footsteps slowed whenever someone particularly tall or sharp-looking passed by.It wasn't fear.It wasn't respect.It was something worse.It was survival.
Still, I shrugged it off.I wasn't here to make waves.I just needed to endure three years, get my diploma, and move on.Simple.
Right?
The first day passed in a blur.
Homeroom, awkward self-introductions, teachers rattling off rules I pretended to care about.Some students were nice enough to throw me polite smiles.One guy, a scrawny kid named Min-jae, even showed me where the cafeteria was.
"If someone offers you a seat, just sit," he whispered, eyes flickering nervously around."And if someone tells you something... just do it. Saves you trouble."
I laughed it off, thinking it was a weird Korean joke I didn't get.Min-jae didn't laugh back.
Day Two.
That's when it really started.
I was sitting alone in the cafeteria, poking at a weird plate of curry rice, when three shadows fell over my table.I looked up.
Three guys, second-years judging by the color stripe on their sleeves.Each one bigger, meaner-looking than the last.The leader, a guy with bleached hair and a crooked nose, leaned down close.
"Hey, newbie," he drawled, voice slow and lazy."Do us a favor. Go grab some chocolate milk from the vending machine."
I blinked."Sure," I said, shrugging."Where's the money?"
The guy's face twisted into something between amusement and disgust.His two friends snickered behind him.
"No, no. You don't get it," he said, straightening up."This ain't a request. It's an order."
The entire table next to me suddenly went quiet.Students pretended not to notice what was happening.Even Min-jae ducked his head, pretending to eat.
Something about the atmosphere changed.It felt heavy.Thick.Like I'd stepped into a lion's cage.
I felt my fists clench instinctively under the table.The heat rising to my chest.The urge — the need — to stand up and knock his stupid crooked nose into a straighter shape.
But then I remembered.
My mother's voice.Her tear-streaked face at the airport, squeezing my hands so tightly it hurt.
"Promise me, Phthisis. Promise me... no violence. No matter what. Unless there's no other way."
I closed my eyes for a second, forcing the anger down.The trembling in my fists turned into a deep breath.
I stood up and smiled, keeping my voice steady.
"Sorry," I said."I can't."
There was a moment of stunned silence.
Crooked-Nose blinked.Then he laughed.A deep, ugly sound.
"You must be new-new," he said, cracking his knuckles."Let's teach you how things work here."
The first punch caught me in the stomach.Hard.
I folded, coughing, but didn't fall.Another punch — across the face this time.I staggered back, my tray crashing to the floor, rice and sauce splattering everywhere.
I tasted blood.
Somewhere in the back of my head, I knew I could dodge the next blow.My body screamed at me to move, to duck, to fight back.
But I didn't.I stood there and took it.
Another hit.Another kick.I went down on one knee.The cafeteria blurred into a sea of half-hidden faces.
I heard whispers.
"Who is that guy?""Why isn't he fighting back?""Is he crazy?"
Another punch.I dropped fully to the floor, cheek scraping against the cold tile.
A boot slammed into my ribs.Pain shot through my side.But still — I dragged myself up onto my knees.
Another kick to the shoulder.
I fell again.
And again.And again.
Each time, I forced myself back up.Shaking.Bleeding.Barely breathing.
But standing.
The bullies started to look... uncomfortable.Their attacks grew sloppier, more frustrated.
"Stay down!" Crooked-Nose snapped, kicking me square in the gut again.
I collapsed like a broken puppet.
But my hand planted on the ground.My knee bent.My body, screaming in protest, lifted itself back up.
Standing again.
Crooked-Nose's fist hovered in the air, frozen.
The whole cafeteria was dead silent now.
I spat blood onto the floor, wiped my mouth with the sleeve of my uniform, and looked up at them with a calm, almost bored expression.
"Sorry," I said again, voice hoarse."I can't."
Something in Crooked-Nose's eyes shifted.Something uncertain.Something almost... scared.
He scoffed, muttered something to his friends, and the three of them stalked off, leaving me swaying alone in the wreckage.
The whispering started immediately.
"He didn't fight back...""He just kept standing up...""What's wrong with him?"
Min-jae rushed over finally, throwing my arm over his skinny shoulders and helping me stumble out of the cafeteria.
The nurse's office smelled like antiseptic and disappointment.
An old woman in glasses dabbed alcohol onto my cuts without asking questions.She didn't even seem surprised.
Min-jae sat nearby, shifting awkwardly in his seat.
"You should've just gotten them the milk," he said quietly.
I didn't answer.I stared up at the ceiling, feeling the bruises bloom across my ribs, my face, my pride.
I had gotten beaten down, humiliated in front of the whole school.
But somehow...
I didn't feel like I had lost.
Because I had kept my promise.
That mattered more than anything.
Later that night, lying on my tiny dorm bed, staring at the cracked ceiling, I thought about Jeong-Hwa Academy.
This wasn't a school.Not really.
It wasn't even a jungle, where only the strong survived.
No.
This place... it was a dome.
A massive, suffocating dome trapping the worst monsters together inside, forcing them to claw and bite and tear each other apart for scraps of respect.
And I was stuck here.
For three years.
Endure it, I told myself.Just endure it. Like you promised.
Somewhere deep inside, something small and hot and fierce stirred — not anger, not yet.Just a tiny ember of stubbornness.
I would survive.
No matter what.
Across campus, in a room with floor-to-ceiling windows and thick leather chairs, a figure watched the cafeteria security footage on a sleek laptop.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Interesting," the boy murmured, tapping the screen where Phthisis, bloodied and stubborn, kept standing up again and again."Very interesting."
Behind him, a girl in the same uniform crossed her arms.
"He's reckless. Probably won't last a month."
The boy closed the laptop with a soft click.
"Or," he said, voice low and amused,"he's exactly what this dome needs."