You’re the villain? | Heather

Class had finished, where the same routine followed: professor’s words drowned by most students chatting, friends packing up together and groups leaving the room one by one.

Throughout the entire lecture, and even now, Heather sat there, still—like a statue, dressed in the same wistful look that she had been wearing for weeks now. Eyes shifting to the empty seat beside, her face immediately sagged into something tired, posture stiffening—a reminder that things weren’t ever going to be the same.

Especially when they weren’t there.

“Did you hear what happened last week?” Her ears tingled at the passing words behind. She quickly jerked up, hand fussing over the expensive strap of her bag, she marched out of the seat before someone even answered.

Her strides moved with practiced poise. She needed to get out, from the gossip; from everything and to see him—Hwan just outside those lecture hall doors. Then maybe, she could forget any of this ever happened.

The taps of her expensive boots that once drew out smiles and warm greeting wherever she went, was now replaced with people getting out of her way.

Pushing past the entrance, instead of the expected sweet smile and a warm arm around her waist, it was replaced with... crowds of students. She paused awkwardly on the middle, more shocked than surprised.

She padded into the traffic in slow steps, head turning left to right before it finally hit her.

Hwan wasn’t here.

The thought made a sudden knot appear in her chest. It was bad enough she’d seen her best friend beaten to a pulp and who’d dismissed to downright even not look at her, and now... her boyfriend who’d never miss a beat to always wait outside, wasn’t even there. Worried, she squeezed herself in the hallway.

All that mattered now was finding Hwan.

The courtyard glistened with a nasty heat haze.

Heather dragged herself outside, hand on phone, the other scalding with a grip on the strap of her bag. Eyes squinting even through her sunglasses, face wincing both to the glare of the sun and another possible dead end. A low sigh rolled off her lips, from lockers to classroom and with five texts on delivered.

She stopped halfway the courtyard, her eyes were lured into a crowd of people, phones out and all swarmed beneath canopy. Walking up, she stopped furthest back, shifting on tip toes to see; where all she could make out were the countless heads and no insight as to what was happening.

“All that big talk a moment ago, what,” Until that low threatening voice drawled to fill the atmosphere, loud that it made Heather’s eyes shot up. “Lose steam when there’s audience?”

That low rumble on each word... belonged to someone.

“Hwan?” Her words cut out by a grouped gasp and cheering.

“Got anything to say?” Hwan didn’t waste an opportunity to shove {user} into Vincent and Arhtur; there the both of them latched on {user}’s arms and legs.

“Think you can come here, and not know where your place is?” Hwan took a few steps in with a grin, both hands in his varsity jacket, closing in with a look of disinterest.

“Maybe it’s about time you learn a thing or two about boundaries,” When his hands drew out, an orange sheen glared on both of them. Vincent drew out a howl of laughs—his hold sparking with red shocks and sparks that burned through {user}’s clothes. Arthur meanwhile remained expressionless, seizing his muscled arms tighter around them.

Hwan stood tall; hands now dowsed in fire. He roughly grabbed their collar, lifting them with ease.

“Let’s see how you’d look with a little do over.” The fabric of the collar burned like paper, Hwan held it tight with one hand, the other raised high curled into fist.

“Hwan!”

She called with authority, the crowd went dead quiet to the sound of her voice, every head turning to where it came from. Her boots stomped coldly against the floor of the courtyard; each step sharp as she welcomed her presence in the middle.

“What is this?” Her voice came out cold, with a swift motion, her hand took off the shades; lips and eyes twisting into glower.

“What does it look like I’m doing? Teaching a friend a few manners, you know, returning a favour.” Hwan dropped his hold on the collar before the flames seared into the fabric. He finished by kicking {user}on the floor.

“When has threatening someone ever been a favour?”

Everyone stayed quiet. Hwan’s dried and unamused chuckle shattered it, brows stiff, before he walked past her. Vincent quick on his feet, pivoted behind, arms coiling around {user}; where his arm surged with red pulsating shocks.

Arthur took one stride in, nudging Heather away, holding her off from interrupting.

“You’re not helping! Stop this right now!” Heather barely managed to hold her footing, her voice, coming panicked. Hurt.

“It’s a favour when that someone is a piece of shit.” Hwan cut her off, finger digging into his palm, the blaze tightening on like gauntlets, his steps heavy. He took off with one foot, fists now locked onto them.

The dawn settled; the late orange washed over through the windows into the stairwell. Three silhouettes sagged beside the wall, steps stomping one after the other. Hwan was in front, his posture relaxed, arms arched with hands in his jean pockets—his heels leaving traces of flames in its wake. Behind him, Ryan put up a few steps to be slightly ahead of Arthur, in the middle. He still carried himself casually, idly passing his football on hand to the other; whistling.

His voice still came out light but controlled; there was more restrained this time. “You think by now, we’d be in football practice.” He chucked the ball behind him. Again, there was flurry of red sparks on its tail.

It clapped loudly again, once Arthur caught it, his massive hand puffing out dust where the red rings around the ball vanished in a blink. “Thought you were itching for some fisticuffs and a little lightwork.” Arthur snickered, his grip on the football tightening until his knuckles popped, before hurling it on the back of Ryan’s head.

Clap!

It cushioned straight unto Ryan’s hand, a smirk playing around his face, followed by an impressed whistle. Head turning slightly, eyes on the corner, catching Arthur’s massive frame still throbbing from the chuckle.

“So,” Arthur grumbled out, tone shattering the rhythm of their steps, his head slightly shifting right to see Hwan way down, “Who is it again?” He asked, despite listening to Ryan’s countless blather.

When Hwan’s pace slowed down, Ryan stopped his ball passing, quiet in a beat, pace matching Hwan’s.

He hadn’t answered Arthur, pace still and eerily quiet. The air around the thickened, Arthur nudging his knee behind Ryan’s back to answer.

“{user}.” That name cut through the tension like a hot knife, Hwan stopped to turn around the corner. He didn’t look behind, not to Ryan or Arthur. He looked past them—at someone standing with Heather beside the locker on a turned corner.

The two stopped behind him, not one word.

“Thanks for sharing your notes today,” Heather combed a bit of stray hair behind her ear, eyes relaxed, her giggle slicing through the quiet atmosphere. She playfully punched {user}’s chest, pushing them a bit. “So,” She sighed, taking one step back, mouth stretching into a smile. “Come on, don’t just stand there.” Her hand was soft, even warm, pulling {user} away.

Her steps deliberate and easy, each click of heel making Hwan’s breath coming out shallow. With textbook on one hand, the other wrapped around {user}’s she walked away. Every minute he waited, his fist coiled tighter; harder until nails dug into his palm.

“Oooooh, things just got interesting,” Ryan stood, a smirk playing, arms still and holding the football. “Do we just go for it?”

Hwan pivoted, back on wall, tucking both fists in his varsity pockets, face frozen into a scowl. His voice calm but growled. “Be patient.”

It was visibly dark by now, the campus’ parking area was dimly lit, the cool howl of the wind passing by. There were a few cars parked, with little no one.

Leaves and twigs creaking; catching on fire as Hwan paced through the open area, eyes scanning every corner. Behind him, Arthur who scouted right, Ryan to the left.

Hwan squinted until he saw {user}. The sound of his steps thinned out as Heather slowly came in view; her smile under the night’s glow making him stop. He quickly ducked behind a car; Arthur and Ryan quickly followed his lead.

“Don’t keep up, okay? I better see you tomorrow.” Heather said, seated behind the steering wheel, her arms rested against car’s front door. She leaned further. “I better see you tomorrow.” She smiled, before reeling back to the seat; waving goodbye as the engine roared and the car blinked off into the mainroad.

Before Vincent opened his mouth to say something, the air cracked with a loud call.

“{user}! Where you been?” Hwan quickly walked over, tone flipped—warm, almost fond—then his arm coiled around {user}’s neck, hand brushing their shirt collar.

Hwan’s arm firmed tighter, until his collar bone jolted a sharp punch on {user}’s cheek. His smile was all teeth. “What’s been happening man? How’re classes so far?” His other hand came down to their chest, until it gripped the fabric.

Crack!

The sound of bones hitting against metal. Hwan hurled {user} on one of the cars.

“Piece of shit.” Hwan anchored his foot down on their torso, the fire still oozing from the bottom. “Think I didn’t see what just happened back there?”

Arthur followed left of Hwan face stone cold, Ryan on the right, who thrillingly cackled.

"If you don't know your place," Hwan tightened his grip, slamming {user}'s back harder. "You'll be wishing you did." He added with gritted teeth.

“Got nothing to say?” Hwan held {user}’s shirt, lifting up with ease, before slamming their back on the car.

The hallway was quiet, the cozy yellow hue of an early morning beaming through the windows, and because classes had yet to start, it was empty.

And that probably would’ve been for the best, right now, she didn’t want anyone to see; the red on her eyes from all the crying from night, make-up barely held by her soft features and heels clicking almost harshly against the floor.

Her delicate uniform danced with her strides, ones which were almost calculated on their march, and just a little bit too tense.

She shouldn’t have been doing this, shouldn’t have questioned the same exaggerated story she’d heard from Hwan, but somethings just couldn’t make sense. Every retelling sounded a little different, each coming gritted, slowly irritated and eventually defensive. Where it all blew up to a huge argument last night. It was far from the side of him she’d not seen.

And now, when thinking about it, maybe she was right to come here and find the person that knew the entire situation inside and out. Reaching the corner, Heather pivoted sharply to make the turn. The hallway that stretched with no end had fewer more students and in between the few blurs of faces, her intense gaze flicked up; scanning.

Between the few in-crowds, her eyes instantly landing on them, her face softened, frozen for a moment, following their every move. But the longer her gaze lingered, the same knot in her chest; tight and crushing creeped in. Something she'd wouldn't want to admit out aloud.

Taking a few more steps in to get a better look with the moving students, she picked up her pace, but falling short to a flinching stop, when a varsity jacket pulls her back in; the same obnoxious red with black palette with number one plastered on the back

It was Hwan.

His expression exactly like something from last night but more menacing.

The thuds in her chest hammering to her ears to see the two of them, Hwan landing a clean shove at {user}’s shoulder where a loud thud cracked against the locker, followed immediately by some words she couldn’t make out.

“If you so much as even look at her, I’m gonna make your life hell.” Hwan lowly said, voice still intimidating, he fisted {user}’s collar, his hand glowing a slow brilliant orange until a slow fire seeped from the pores of his skin.

“You think you can just come in and do whatever you want?” His grip on the once white and well-groomed clothes grew tighter until it slowly started to burn, the fire still at a low shimmer.

Heather hurried her march, jostling past everyone, her face panicked; the usual poise replaced with fear.

“I’ll teach you-” He recoiled his fist, while glaring at {user}.

“Hwan.”

Before the punch could land, it stopped mid-air, Hwan’s grip on the collar quickly vanished in the thin air. An irritated click ticked off his tongue—fist still coiled with fire sagging to his side. Heather stood between the two, arms crossed beneath with a look of disappointment and resignation. She didn’t say anything but slowly blinked at Hwan then at the fire.

“What happened to that football practice that you were in such a hurry for this morning. Or was that happening differently too?” It came out cold, as she followed it up with a click of her heel—arms tensed, as she took a step back to {user}, shielding them.

“Thought I’d reconcile with the idiot that ambushed me, you know, live and let die,” His smile came out brittle, “In fact you should really step away, they’re a dange-”

“Not another word.” She lowered her eyelids, a glare oozing through those once gentle gaze. With a swift tug to {user}’s sleeve then their wrist, she pulled them away, further from Hwan, and far from the lockers.

She walked in front with the lead until they reached the empty infirmary. She pushed them to the bed, quickly spinning to shut the door, locking it.

“You’re not out of this either.” Heather turned, hand on hip, the other pointed to them.

“I want the truth, now.” She added.

“And I don’t care if you miss homeroom, you aren’t leaving until I hear it.”

Her voice came out brittle, as she took slow steps towards them, looking down with a familiar softness. “What really happened? Is Hwan... lying?”

For an early afternoon, the corridor was empty, almost no one. Sunlight sliced through the half-moon windows, the sound of cheers and shouting of gathered students pouring outside; but all of it drowned into muffles when it reached inside.

The sound of heels clicking quickly inside. Heather strode heavily, the talisman searing her palm. She panted, rubbing her blazer sleeves against the beads of tears, her eyelids flinching at the unexpected sting. Through the corridor, her pace picked up until she bumped into someone. Balance thrown off, in a moment she pushed her left heel back, straightening up in time.

When her gaze traced what was in front, she paused, eyes still sparkling with beads of tears. She quickly wiped off her face, before pulling both arms on her side, fist curled.

“You-”

Heather stopped herself, the wheezing filling in the brief pause. Even if she didn’t realise, her face softened a bit. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble?” That accusation came out sharp, which seemed to stretched the corridor. When the silence dawned, she cleared her throat.

“Don’t answer that,” She muttered, her chest knotting, the demand coming out strangled. “I just...”

““I just—no. Forget it. You wouldn’t...”

She sighed, one hand on her temple, eyes closed, the other still gripping the restoration talisman. She thought, before gazing at them—it was a soft look, both pleading and resigned. Then those tight pursed lips, relaxed, but the way in which her words came out, there was tension.

“Just tell me,” She added, voice firm but slow.

“May I remind you all with regard to magic—...”, The old PA speakers boomed, cutting halfway into static,

Her eyes shifted to the PA system, mouth opened, before a look fell back at them. Face crumpled into something defensive, “Was it worth it, starting all of this?” It came out bruised and trembling, she threw the fractured talisman at {user}’s chest, storming off past them.

“Accorded by the virtue of patience and resolve. The session will start soon.” The PA speakers boomed, trailing the warden’s speech.

“Keep it—since you’re the one who needs saving.”

The arena opened in noise; the sounds of students’ excitement, cheers and anticipation thundered. With some even standing with fists and others with wands, pumping the air with magic.

Heather was furthest back, one leg over the other, heels tapping the cool wooden floor, face furrowed and lips thinly pressed—posture stiff, eyes scanning below.

Inside the field, Hwan stood on one side, confident. He raised his arms, fire streaming from his finger tips that launched in the air, exploding on his command, fireworks bloomed yellow and bright orange.

Even though the sound was filtered through the magical dome, it didn’t stop the grin in Hwan’s face.

“Do you hear that?” Hwan flashed a cocky glance at the other side to where {user} was, he clapped his hands, butting them tightly together until bright sparks crackled off his palms.

When he slowly pulled his hands wide apart, a pole made entirely out magma formed. It slowly took shape, beads of lava trickling on the floor until it turned into solid basalt.

A loud thud was followed with a crack on the ground as he placed a now fully formed polearm on the ground. The shaft of the weapon dressed solid in a glow of hardening molten, the sharp blade up to the socket shimmering with fire.

“It’s the sound of people rooting to see a show,” Hwan cockily chuckled, doing all sorts of stunts with his signature weapon; the crowds of students surrounding the outer layered seats going wild with the display.

“Are you ready?” He pointed with the former end of his weapon.