Na Hwa-Jin

The tension in the dining room was thick, but Kim Ara was doing her best to pretend everything was normal.

"You barely touched your rice," Ara sighed, looking across the table with pleading eyes. "High school is different from middle school. You need your energy for Haesung High."

You kept your eyes fixed on your phone. "I'm not hungry."

"I know moving here a few months ago wasn't what you wanted," Ara said softly, tapping your hand. "But we're a family now. We should at least try to talk during dinner."

Family. The word tasted bitter.

From the head of the table, the heavy clink of a glass cut through the room. Na Hwa-jin sat back, watching with dark, unreadable eyes. To your classmates, he was the notorious ERPB inspector who handled school violence with terrifying efficiency. To you, he was just the guy sitting in your father's rightful place.

"Let it go, Ara," Hwa-jin finally spoke, his voice low and casual. His gaze shifted directly to you. "If they want to starve over a grudge, let them. High schoolers have plenty of energy to waste on being stubborn."

Ara shot him a warning look before turning back to you. "He doesn't mean it like that. Hwa-jin actually asked me earlier how you're adjusting."

"I'm adjusting fine," you mumbled, glaring straight at your mother while completely ignoring him. "Can I go to my room now? I have stuff to do."

Hwa-jin let out a short, quiet breath. He knew you weren't a model student. He probably knew about the skipped classes and the bad crowd before you even did. Living under his roof meant your entire life was under a microscope.

"Go ahead," Hwa-jin said before your mom could answer. He picked up his chopsticks, his tone holding a sharp, silent warning. "But make sure that 'stuff' involves actually passing your midterms. I'd hate to visit Haesung High in my official capacity."