Chapter Text
“Ai, First! Hurry up!” Namping yelled, skidding to a brief stop so he could suck in air. He glanced back at his friend, who was clutching his chest, bent over and wheezing like he’d already used up all the oxygen in the city.
“Aren’t you supposed to be athletic?!” Namping shrieked. His eyes flicked down to his smartwatch, and he groaned. 7:32. Their class started at 7:30.
“I’m coming! Just give me a minute!” Firstone shouted back between breaths.
“Tell that to the student committee! They’re gonna write our names again! Hurry up!” Namping yelled, already breaking into a jog.
What made everything worse was that their house wasn’t even that far from school. Fifteen minutes on a bike. Even less if they took the bus. They would’ve done either, if their bikes weren’t locked away by their parents due to last night’s questionable activities and if they hadn’t missed the bus by exactly two minutes.
Namping was just about to round the corner, the familiar sign and logo of Domundi High already in sight, when a sudden force yanked him sideways. Hands gripped his arms, not painfully tight, but firm enough to pull him off course.
“Hey—!” he yelped, startled. He was ready to shout at whoever dared to ambush him when a familiar face came into view. “Eh? Kong?” His expression shifted into pure confusion.
Kong Jiro. Their class secretary. The same Kong who was always the first to arrive in the classroom. Also the same Kong who had reprimanded them just yesterday… for being late.
“You’re late too?” Namping asked incredulously.
Kong nodded, eyes flicking toward the school gate before returning to Namping. There was something tense in his posture, like he was calculating his chances.
“YAH, NAMPING, IS OUR FIFTEEN YEARS—oomf!”
“Why are you so loud?!” Kong hissed, whipping around and clamping a hand over Firstone’s mouth. Namping’s gaze bounced between them as Kong grimaced and quickly pulled his hand away. “Ugh! Paew! That’s disgusting!” he cried, already pulling out a handkerchief to wipe his palm like it had personally offended him.
In typical Firstone behavior, he had probably licked Kong’s hand clean. Namping grimaced, both at the mental image and at the fact that it felt completely plausible.
“But why are you hiding here?” Namping asked. “Are you skipping our first subject? We could still rush in.”
Kong gave him a look. Not a glare. A judgment. The kind usually reserved for people who microwave fish in a stuff room.
“What?” Namping said, immediately defensive.
“How many times have you been late this week?” Kong asked, tone clearly judging.
This week? Namping blinked. It was Wednesday. His brain slowly flipped through the days like an old calendar stuck together by glue.
“This marks the third time, right?” Kong pressed.
Namping nodded. His ears burned. Three consecutive days. A record he clearly did not want but as they said, life works in wonder. You wake up at 5:30 in the morning but seems to be late still in your 7:30 class, Namping ignores the fact that it's probably due to doom-scrolling at his phone for thirty minutes and the one-hour showers that makes him late accompanied.
“And you know what happens after the third time?”
“Won’t they just write our names on the late list again?” Firstone said casually, as if discussing the weather. Namping nodded. That was the system. The sacred late sheet. The ultimate punishment.
All senior high classes started at 7:30. Anyone who came in late wrote their name, felt mildly ashamed for five seconds, then moved on with life.
“You two!” Kong hissed, raising his fists in a mock punch making the other two flinched. “Where were you during the student committee meeting, huh? Because if you’d bothered to show up, you’d know this already.” He leaned in, voice dropping like he was about to reveal state secrets. “Three late records now mean detention.”
Silence.
Namping’s soul briefly left his body.
“And Miss Lin,” Kong continued, clearly enjoying himself, “will nag your ears off if she finds out that two students from her advisory earned detention just two weeks into the school year.”
They gulped in perfect synchronization.
Miss Lin was their English teacher and adviser. Namping liked her class. He liked her teaching style. He did not like her glare, which felt like being judged by an ancient deity who had very high expectations and zero patience. She was also infamous for her nagging. Not the long, exhausting kind. The sharp, precise kind delivered alongside icy glares that made you rethink every life decision. Just last week, she had reminded them that they were seniors now and were expected to act like it.
“She will kill us, Ping,” Firstone muttered, already pacing back and forth. “She will literally kill us.” He winced, remembering the last time he’d been on the receiving end of Miss Lin’s warning stare.
As Namping and Firstone began spiraling, Namping already considering whether disappearing from school entirely was a viable option, Kong finally spoke again.
“We could go to the back of the school and climb in,” Kong said.
Both Namping and Firstone stared at him like he’d just suggested teleportation.
“Are you crazy?” Firstone said. “The walls at the back are tall tall!” He lifted a hand over his head to demonstrate the height, as if the wall might feel insulted otherwise. Namping nodded vigorously in support.
“It’s fine! Come with me,” Kong insisted, already walking away with the confidence of someone who had definitely done this before and survived.
They didn’t really have a choice. So they followed their secretary, who marched ahead like this was part of his daily routine.
“Have you done this a lot?” Namping asked, then immediately questioned why he even asked. This was Kong. The early secretary. The human alarm clock.
“Twice this week,” Kong replied casually. “I was late on Monday, but I refuse to get a record. I’m running for student council next year, you know.”
Namping nodded in understanding. Student council members needed spotless records. Even one name on the late sheet was treated like a moral failure.
A few minutes later, they reached the back of the school.
Namping grimaced.
The wall was… high. Like unreasonably high. Probably twice his height. Maybe more. He imagined jumping down the other side and immediately pictured broken ankles, fractured legs, and a dramatic ambulance scene.
He wasn’t afraid of heights. He was afraid of pain. Very afraid.
“I’d rather have detention than a broken leg,” he declared, already turning around. “Bye!”
“Ah-ah!” Firstone hooked his arm around Namping’s. “We’re already here. Might as well commit. You can write this in your high school bucket list journal.”
“I don’t have a bucket list journal!”
“It’s gonna be fine, Ping,” Kong said. “We’ll catch you on the other side.”
Firstone nodded enthusiastically, which somehow made it worse. Still, outnumbered, Namping sighed and nodded in defeat.
Kong climbed first, with Firstone boosting him up. Once Kong was safely on top, he reached down to help Namping. Namping let out a shaky breath as he was hauled up, legs trembling as he sat on the wall. Kong then pulled Firstone up beside them.
Success!
Now there was only one thing left to do.
Jump.
Firstone jumped first. Then Kong.
When it was Namping’s turn, his friends urged him on, promising they’d catch him. He closed his eyes, took a breath—
“YAH! STOP! DO YOU KNOW THAT’S NOT ALLOWED?!”
Namping nearly screamed.
His heart slammed against his ribs as he froze on the wall. He looked down to see both his friends completely still. Kong squinted at two figures below, one sprinting toward them, another following closely behind.
He cursed.
“Student council member!” Kong hissed. “RUN!”
RUN?!
RUN WHERE?!
Namping screamed internally as both of his friends bolted without hesitation. Trust. Friendship. All abandoned in under two seconds.
The running figure stopped suddenly and pointed at Namping.
“You!” he yelled, already panting. “You stay there!”
Namping blinked. The guy looked familiar. Unfortunately.
He nodded slowly. He didn’t really have a choice.
As he watched his friends disappear into the distance with the student council guy following, Namping sighed, shoulders slumping.
If I stay here, I’ll still get a record…
Climbing the wall had been completely useless after all.
“Need help getting down?” a voice cut in.
Namping looked down.
And froze.
A… very handsome man stood below him.
Namping wasn’t someone who threw the word handsome around. Cute, sure. Attractive, maybe. But handsome was reserved for rare occasions. Emergency situations. This was one of them.
The guy had warm, sun-kissed, honey-toned skin and deep chocolate-brown eyes framed by long lashes that made them look effortlessly hooded. His nose was straight and well-defined, balancing his face perfectly, while his lips were naturally full, resting in a relaxed curve. His jawline was sharp too, like it had been personally sculpted by a very generous artist.
“Hello?”
Namping blinked.
Heat rushed straight to his cheeks as he realized he had been openly staring. Like, really staring.
“H-hi…” he squeaked, then cleared his throat and remembered the original question. “I do need help. Getting down.”
The handsome guy blinked once, then nodded, stepping closer to the wall. Namping had to physically stop himself from melting at the fact that the guy was now even closer.
Is he gonna catch me? Like in those movies where the prince catches the princess—
“Use my shoulders to climb down.”
…Guess not.
Namping pouted internally but moved anyway. Disappointment aside, being rescued from a very illegal wall was still better than being stuck on top of it. And honestly, having a handsome guy help him down was already more than enough consolation prize for being abandoned by his so-called friends.
He carefully lowered one leg, his foot searching until it landed on the guy’s shoulder. With surprising ease, he climbed down, landing safely in front of him.
They were face to face.
Same height.
Dangerous information.
“Thank you!” Namping said brightly, flashing his famous gummy smile. He was just about to follow up with something smooth. Or at least something.
“Those rascals can run fast!”
Namping flinched as he heard the familiar voice. That student council member again!
His eyes widened as reality slammed back into him.
“Oh no!”
He spun around and bolted, clutching his bag like his life depended on it. After two steps, he skidded to a stop, turned back, and pointed urgently at the handsome guy.
“Don’t let that man catch you! He’s a member of the student council!”
And with that, he ran off again, disappearing at impressive speed.
The guy left by the wall stared after him, then let out a slow, disbelieving sigh.
“Eh?! Where’s the guy who was stuck there?” the other student council member asked, his badge gleaming under the sun.
“Got away,” he replied simply, already walking away.
“EH?!”
“Let’s go back to class,” he said, tone shutting the conversation down completely.
The other guy hesitated, then nodded. “Alright, Vice President.”