Move 4

Once, there was a scandal in school. A girl was screaming on the first floor, and students spilled out of classrooms to see what was happening. She cried and raged, her voice shredding the quiet until whispers spread like wildfire. Angelique, passing by, stopped and asked a nearby student, “What’s going on? Why is she screaming?”

“That girl—she was sexually assaulted. Allegedly,” the student replied in a hushed voice.

“Assaulted? Who could do such a horrible thing?” Angelique murmured, horrified.

As the commotion grew, the S-Class students arrived. The distraught girl lunged forward and grabbed Ryan by the collar. “R*a*p*i*s*t! R*a*p*i*s*t! You’re a R*a*p*i*s*t!” she screamed.

Cornelia, Alejandro, Trunks, and Suhee stared at him, stunned.

“What do you mean?” Ryan said, pushing her away.

“You drugged me and you abused me!” she sobbed.

“What is going on here?” the head of department demanded as he hurried toward the crowd.

“I was assaulted by Ryan Williams,” the girl cried. “Will you do something about it—or will you keep it secret like you always do?”

“Follow me to my office,” the dean ordered.

The girl obeyed, trembling, and the dean stopped and looked at Ryan. “You too, Mr. Williams.” Ryan sighed and fell into step.

“To the Diamond Room, everyone,” Suhee said coldly, and the others followed.

In the dean’s office, Ryan and the girl sat across from him. 

“What is the meaning of all this noise?” the dean asked, folding his hands.

“I have two minutes to listen to both of you,” Ryan said. “So be fast.”

“Sir,” the girl began, her voice breaking, “this man drugged and abused me.”

“Ryan, is this true?” the dean asked.

Ryan leaned back, untroubled. “She gave herself to me. It was never an assault,” he said.

The girl gaped at him. “No—that is not true. He assaulted me,” she cried. “You have to believe me.”

“How can an adult woman be assaulted?” Ryan scoffed. “We slept together. Afterwards she started threatening me—saying she wanted me to call her my girlfriend or she’d accuse me this.” He let out a sarcastic laugh.

“Liar!” the girl screamed, tears streaming down her face. “Sir, this is not true—he’s lying!”

“Prove it,” Ryan said, fixing her with a mischievous, contemptuous smirk.

The dean’s expression stayed bland. “I do not wish to interfere in your adult affairs,” he said, turning to the girl. “Ms… what is your name?”

“Rachel Rogers,” she managed to whisper.

“You will stop this scandal immediately,” the dean said, his tone final.

“But—” Rachel began, voice cracking.

“No. I said stop. Now leave my office,” the dean interrupted.

Rachel stumbled from the room, sobbing harder than before. As she left, Ryan paused and turned to the dean. “That was well handled, Mr. Dean. For a moment I thought you’d forgotten who dominates this university,” he said, and walked out.

In the corridor he caught up with Rachel, grabbing her wrist with rough impatience. “This story better stay among the three of us,” he sneered. “Who knows what my mother would do if she heard this? Sue you for defamation—or, better yet, make someone you love disappear. Your choice.” He released her wrist, grinning wickedly, “And one last thing. Tomorrow I want you cry around that you were drunk. Okay?” He ended and walked away.

Rachel trembled, she then fled toward the nearest bathroom, sobs breaking from her like a wounded animal. While during this time, Ryan joined the others in the Diamond Room.

The Diamond Room was a special lounge reserved for S-Class students in the main university building. It had everything they could want — a luxurious living room, a private restaurant and bar, a small movie theater, indoor games, and several other high-end amenities. It was where they gathered for lunch, meetings, or simply to relax away from the rest of the university.

When Ryan entered, the others fell silent, their eyes heavy with unease. Suhee was the first to speak.

“How could you do that? It’s disgusting,” she said, her voice sharp with anger.

“I didn’t abuse her,” Ryan replied flatly. “She’s lying. I don’t even know her.”

“Don’t play that game with me, Ryan. We know you better than that.” Suhee added.

“Why should we worry about her? She’s just a sheep,” Cornelia said with a scoff.

“It’s not because she’s a scholarship student that it gives Ryan the right to drug and abuse her!” Suhee shot back. “She’s a girl, just like us.”

“And even if I did—so what?” Ryan snapped, eyes flashing. “She’s a sheep after all.”

The cr*ack of Suhee’s slap echoed through the room. Everyone froze. Ryan held his jaw, glaring at her.

“Mind your words,” Suhee said coldly. “We’re talking about rape.”

Ryan exhaled heavily. “Why would you believe a sheep over your own friend? I told you, I didn’t r*ape her. Okay—fine—I admit we slept together. But she gave herself to me.”

“Then why did you say you didn’t know her?” Suhee asked.

Ryan hesitated “Because I was afraid it would be misinterpreted,” he muttered. Then, after a pause, he added bitterly, “You see? That’s what I mean. You don’t trust me. I might be a bad boy, but I’m not a monster.”

“I choose to believe Ryan,” Cornelia said firmly. “That girl’s a sheep. She could’ve lied just to discredit him—or for money. Those poor students would do anything to get close to one of us.”

“I believe Ryan too,” Alejandro added. “He’s my friend. I can’t take a stranger’s word over his.”

Suhee looked at Trunks, searching for something in his face. But as usual, he said nothing. She sighed, turned away, and walked out.

“B#itch,” Ryan muttered under his breath.

“I think I’ll leave too,” Trunks said quietly, and followed her out.

Later that day, the chess room was nearly empty. Only Trunks sat there, playing alone, the rhythmic click of chess pieces echoing in the quiet. Angelique entered, watching him for a moment before sliding into the seat across from him. She reached out and moved a pawn forward.

“If I win,” she said with a sly smile, “you owe me a favor.”

Trunks adjusted his glasses, looked up at her, and moved his pawn. “Deal.”

She smiled and sat properly across from him. “So… isolating yourself from everyone again?”

“Are you stalking me or something?” he asked dryly.

“Is that bad?” she teased, playing her move.

“It’s… cringe,” Trunks said.

She chuckled. “It’s not my fault if we keep ending up in the same places.”

He didn’t respond, his focus locked on the board.

“So,” she said after a while, “what do you think about what happened this morning? Do you think your friend’s guilty?”

Trunks froze for a second, then resumed moving his piece. “He told me he’s not.”

“And do you believe him?”

“If he says he did nothing, then I believe him.”

“Let’s say he lied,” Angelique pressed. “What would you do then?”

“Then I wouldn’t interfere in whatever consequences follow.”

Angelique smiled, then suddenly leaned forward. “Whatever. Échec et mat!” she announced proudly. “I win!”

Trunks blinked, surprised. “Wow. It’s the first time someone beats me at chess.”

“See?” she said playfully. “I’m not what you think I am. You’d gain more by trying to know me better.”

Trunks gave a faint smile. “So… what’s the favor I owe you?”

“Take me out on a date this weekend,” she said, her tone suddenly softer.

Trunks turned bright red. “I—I’ve never been on a date before,” he stammered.

Angelique leaned closer, close enough that he could see her chest when he looked down. He blushed even harder.

“Then give it a first try,” she whispered.

“Uh… okay,” he said nervously. “Just tell me the time and place.” Then, flustered beyond measure, he stood up and hurried away.

Angelique called after him, laughing. “Wait! How do I even contact you? I don’t have your number!”

But he was already gone. She chuckled softly to herself. “Why’s he always running?” she murmured with an amused, genuine smile.

Trunks stepped out of the school building, still flushed from earlier. His car was waiting at the curb. As he slipped into the back seat, the driver glanced at him through the rearview mirror.

“Young master, are you alright? Your face is red…” the driver asked, half-concerned, half-amused.

“Uh—really?” Trunks stammered, nervously tugging at his collar.

The driver chuckled softly, clearly understanding the reason for his young master’s embarrassment. Trunks could only smile awkwardly in response as the car pulled away from the campus, heading toward his penthouse.

Once home, Trunks went straight to his room, pulled out his phone, and texted Suhee.

Trunks: Hey, are you home already?

Suhee: Yes, I am. And you?

Trunks: Just arrived. Still angry?

Suhee: A little.

Trunks: I know what can make you feel better. Can you come over?

Suhee: Sure!

Trunks smiled, warmth returning to his face.

“Was that Su?” asked one of the maids, a gentle elderly woman with kind eyes.

“Yes, Grandma Yuna,” Trunks replied.

“You like her a lot, don’t you?” she teased.

“Of course. She’s my best friend,” he said, smiling fondly.

Grandma Yuna chuckled and patted his cheek. She had been with the family for decades—first as his father and uncle’s nurse, then as his caretaker. To Trunks, she was family, more like a grandmother than a servant. She had watched him grow up, and she adored him as if he were her own grandson. She had also watched Suhee grow, calling the two of them her little angels.

Since Suhee was coming over, Grandma Yuna prepared all their favorite snacks for the evening.

When Suhee arrived, Trunks greeted her at the door and led her straight to his room.

“Tadaaa!” he said proudly as he opened the door.

Suhee burst into laughter. “Indoor camping? Juhoonie, you’re so dumb,” she teased affectionately.

“We used to do this when we were kids,” Trunks said, smiling shyly. “I thought it would make you happy. And Grandma Yuna helped me.”

“Yes!” Grandma Yuna chimed in from the doorway. “And I made all your favorite snacks, both of you,” she said, pinching their cheeks playfully.

Suhee hugged her. “You’re the best, Grandma Yuna.”

“Now behave yourselves, both of you,” she said with a wink. She kissed their foreheads before leaving them alone.

“So, shall we start?” Trunks asked.

They spent the evening playing games, watching movies, and talking about everything—school, memories, dreams. Eventually, they drifted to sleep in each other’s arms, hugging each other tightly, just like they used to when they were little.