Kitty dreamed in sharp fragments.
Not a normal dream. Not a soft dream that fades when you wake. This one had edges. It cut.
She stood in a wide empty place that looked like a court but also looked like a battlefield. The floor beneath her was polished enough to reflect the sky, but the sky above was wrong. It was too dark, too heavy, like rain had already decided to fall even if clouds hadn't arrived yet.
XH stood on one end.
NS stood on the other.
Their faces were older in the dream, not in years, but in exhaustion. Like they had survived too much and finally ran out of patience.
Kitty tried to speak.
No sound came out.
She tried to move.
Her feet didn't obey.
She wasn't tied. She wasn't trapped. She was simply muted by the dream's rules, forced to watch like an audience member who paid with breath.
XH's voice carried across the space. He sounded tight, not angry yet, but holding anger in his throat.
"Is it going to be like that," he asked.
NS's reply was calm in the way calm can be cruel.
"It already is," NS said.
Kitty's chest tightened. The air smelled like metal, like rain hitting concrete.
She looked down and realized her hands were stained.
Not with blood, not fully.
With red ink.
Like the red list.
She lifted her hands and tried to wipe them on her jacket. The stain spread instead, blooming wider.
When she looked up again, XH and NS had moved closer.
The space between them shrank without permission.
XH's jaw tightened. NS's posture stayed composed, but his eyes had a shine that looked like resentment, not fear.
They began to circle.
Kitty wanted to scream.
No sound.
Then the dream shifted like someone snapped a screen.
Kitty was suddenly standing behind glass.
Soundproof.
She could see them.
She could see their fists clench.
She could see the way their shoulders rose and fell, breath heavy.
She could see XH's mouth move and read the words even though she couldn't hear.
He won't let me.
He won't let me go.
Kitty's heart hammered.
Her palms pressed against the glass automatically.
Then rain started.
Not soft. Not romantic.
Hard, heavy rain that slammed into the glass in thick sheets.
The sound should have been loud.
It wasn't.
The dream kept her trapped in silence while the world drowned.
XH and NS blurred behind the rain.
Their outlines became shadows.
Their faces disappeared.
Kitty kept pressing her hands to the glass.
The red stain on her palms smeared.
Then a bell rang.
One single bell.
The sound finally broke through.
It pierced the dream and split it open.
Kitty woke up gasping.
Her room was dark. The dorm air was cold. Her throat felt dry like she had been holding her breath for hours.
She sat up quickly, heart pounding.
For a second, she didn't know where she was.
Then she remembered.
Junta school dorm.
Best-of-seven.
Game 1 day.
Her hands were clean.
No red stain.
But the memory of the dream's silence clung to her skin like damp.
She swung her legs off the bunk and froze.
Outside the window, rain fell.
Not a light drizzle.
Real rain.
Heavy droplets striking the glass, sliding down in thick lines.
Kitty stared.
There had been no forecast.
The sky yesterday had been clean.
The sky this morning was a dark smear behind the rain.
Kitty's chest tightened.
She didn't believe in signs the way Jihye did.
But she believed in patterns.
And patterns had started to form too often.
Behind her, NC stirred.
"You okay," NC whispered, voice thick with sleep.
Kitty's voice came soft. "It's raining."
NC sat up slowly and looked toward the window. Her expression tightened. "That's weird."
Kitty swallowed. "I had a dream."
NC didn't ask details. She didn't need to. The tremor in Kitty's voice said enough.
June's bunk across the room was still for a moment, then June sat up.
Her ponytail was slightly messy. Her eyes looked sharp even with sleep still clinging to them.
June glanced at the window. Rain. Then she looked at Kitty.
Kitty didn't want to speak.
June didn't push.
June's voice came low, controlled.
"Today."
Kitty nodded.
NC stood up first, already moving into action mode. She had that big-sister calm that made chaos feel slightly less fatal.
"Get dressed," NC said softly. "We go together."
Kitty dressed mechanically.
She tied her hair tighter than usual.
She checked her phone out of habit even though she knew it wouldn't work freely. Restrictions meant everything was supervised. Every connection was controlled.
She hated that.
It made her miss Campus-2, where chaos felt like youth instead of punishment.
In the dining hall, the air felt like a waiting room before surgery.
Nobody talked much.
Everyone ate like they were preparing for the body to need fuel under stress.
Health Track's table was tighter today. Even people who had been distant sat closer.
Fear makes people forget pride, temporarily.
XH sat with JP, TZ, HS, and NS. XH looked bruised and tired, but his posture was steady. He was the kind of steady that came from deciding something inside.
HS looked pale. His eyes were swollen. He kept rubbing his hands as if warmth could fix the trembling.
JP ate quickly, jaw clenched.
TZ ate slow, calm, conserving energy.
NS ate with controlled precision, eyes scanning the room.
Kitty watched XH for half a second longer than necessary.
He looked like a person walking into a cage and still planning to win.
June watched too, but her gaze was sharper. Not romance sharp. Survival sharp.
Cherry sat nearby, expression hard.
Anna whispered to Jihye, "What if they lose."
Jihye didn't answer immediately. Then she said quietly, "Then we don't go back to ourselves."
The institution posted the schedule at 8:00 AM.
GAME DAY PROTOCOL
PARENTAL CALL WINDOW: 8:30–9:00
ARENA ENTRY: 9:20
GAME 1 TIP-OFF: 10:00
ATTENDANCE MANDATORY
Parental call window.
Mercy disguised as pressure.
Kitty's stomach tightened. She knew why the institution offered calls.
They wanted parents involved.
Parents meant stakes.
Parents meant shame.
Parents meant additional control.
At 8:30, students were lined up in separate supervised call stations.
Not private rooms.
Rows of chairs with staff walking behind them, listening, pretending not to.
Kitty held the phone in her hand and felt her palm sweat.
She called her mother.
The line connected.
Her mother's voice arrived warm but tight. "Kitty."
Kitty's throat tightened. "Mom."
Her mother exhaled sharply. "I saw the news."
Kitty's chest tightened. "It's not like the news says."
"I know," her mother said quickly. "I know you, Kitty."
Kitty swallowed. "They cut people."
Her mother's voice softened. "Are you safe."
Kitty hesitated.
Safe was not a simple word here.
"I'm…" Kitty began.
Her mother interrupted gently. "Are you hurt."
Kitty's eyes burned. "No."
Her mother exhaled again. "Good. Listen. You're smart. You survive first. You keep your name clean."
Kitty's jaw tightened. "They're making them play basketball to decide our future."
Her mother went silent for a second. Then her voice turned sharp. "That's insane."
Kitty's breath hitched. "XH is captain."
Her mother's voice softened slightly. "That boy."
Kitty swallowed. "He's… he's getting hit a lot."
Her mother's tone tightened. "Kitty."
Kitty knew what her mother was warning. Don't tie your life to someone else's fight. Don't let love become a loss.
Kitty whispered, "I know."
Her mother's voice came low, controlled. "You don't back off if your heart doesn't want to. But you don't sacrifice your future for a boy who can't promise you safety."
Kitty's eyes filled. "He's not asking me to sacrifice."
Her mother's voice softened. "No. He wouldn't."
Kitty wiped her cheek quickly. "I just… I just want him to come back alive."
Her mother went quiet, then said gently, "Then be strong where he can't be."
Kitty swallowed hard. "Okay."
Her mother's voice warmed slightly. "Call me after the game. If you can."
Kitty nodded even though her mother couldn't see. "Okay."
The call ended.
Kitty sat for a second staring at the phone, hands trembling.
Across the call stations, June's voice rose slightly.
Kitty didn't mean to listen, but the room made privacy impossible.
June spoke into the phone, voice controlled. "I'm fine."
A sharper voice came through the line, muffled but forceful.
June's mother.
Kitty recognized the tension immediately.
June's jaw tightened. "It's not my fault."
The voice on the line sounded tight, controlling, like a woman who believed love meant pressure.
June's voice dropped. "I know what I'm doing."
Silence.
Then June's voice softened for half a second, like she was swallowing something. "I'll be careful."
June ended the call quickly.
Her hand trembled slightly as she set the phone down.
She didn't look at Kitty.
Kitty didn't look at her.
But the air between them felt like shared damage.
On the boys' side, XH's call ended with him staring at the phone longer than necessary.
JP laughed sharply into his call with his mother, making jokes that sounded like armor. TZ's voice was calm and reassuring with whoever he called. HS's call ended with HS wiping his face quickly, shoulders shaking, trying to hide tears.
NS's call ended with NS's face tightening for a split second, then returning to calm.
XH watched that and felt something twist.
NS's calm always returned.
Like a mask that never cracked fully.
At 9:20, the arena doors opened.
The "arena" was the largest indoor court on campus, polished wood, bleachers packed, banners hanging, camera rigs mounted, a scoreboard lit bright enough to hurt eyes.
It looked like a sports event.
It felt like a trial.
Students from all majors packed the stands. Some wore Engineering colors. Some wore Health Track scribbles on shirts, homemade support.
Staff stood along the edges, pretending to be neutral.
The supervisor sat near the commentators table, smiling for cameras.
A student announcer's voice echoed through speakers. "Welcome to the best-of-seven series."
The crowd cheered, because crowds cheer automatically. Cheering is how people release fear.
Kitty sat with the girls in the assigned section. June sat beside NC and Kitty, posture perfect, eyes sharp.
Cherry sat behind them, expression hard. Jihye sat with her hands clasped, silent.
Kitty noticed the rain sound still faintly on the roof, like the building carried the weather inside.
Unexplained rain.
No forecast.
Her dream's rain.
Her chest tightened.
On the court, Health Track stepped onto the wood.
XH led, followed by JP, TZ, NS, and HS.
HS looked smaller under the lights.
The red sentence hovered above his head even though the camera couldn't see it.
VT's cohort stepped onto the court opposite, moving like they belonged on stages.
VT smirked slightly, eyes flicking toward the girls' section. His gaze lingered on Kitty and June like he was choosing which one to break after the game.
Kitty's stomach tightened.
June's jaw clenched.
The referee blew the whistle.
The ball went up.
Game 1 began.
The first few minutes felt like adrenaline and chaos.
Health Track started fast, not because they were better, but because they were desperate. Desperation makes bodies move harder.
XH drove hard, pain in his ribs ignored. He passed clean to JP. JP made a shot. The crowd roared.
Kitty's breath hitched. Her hands clenched.
June didn't cheer loudly, but her eyes flashed with something like hope.
VT's cohort responded immediately with rough defense.
A shove under the basket. A shoulder check. A hard screen that was more hit than block.
The referee's whistle stayed silent.
The crowd murmured.
XH took a hit to his side and winced.
Kitty's heart jumped.
NS saw it too, eyes sharpening.
For a moment, Kitty's nightmare flashed in her mind again, XH and NS facing each other, rain on glass, silence.
She swallowed hard.
On the court, VT's cohort scored twice quickly, pushing the pace, forcing Health Track to run.
HS missed a pass. The ball slipped. A VT player stole and scored.
The crowd cheered, half for points, half for drama.
HS's face went pale.
Kitty's chest tightened.
June's hands clenched.
XH clapped once, loud. "Reset."
NS called out, voice calm. "Next play."
JP shouted, "HS, breathe."
HS nodded quickly, eyes wide.
The game tightened.
Bodies collided.
The referee finally blew a whistle.
Not on VT's cohort.
On Health Track.
A foul called on NS for a clean defense.
The crowd booed.
The institution wanted bias without admitting bias. It wanted to nudge the story.
XH looked at the referee with disbelief.
VT smiled faintly.
Kitty felt anger rise in her chest like heat.
June's eyes narrowed.
Cherry whispered behind them, "Of course."
Rain continued tapping the roof.
Unexplained.
Persistent.
As if the sky was keeping time.
The first quarter ended with Health Track down by a small margin.
Not crushing.
But enough to make panic bloom.
HS sat on the bench, shaking slightly.
XH leaned toward him, voice low. "You're okay."
HS swallowed. "I messed up."
XH shook his head. "You're still here."
That line landed heavier than it should.
Still here.
Still eligible.
Still alive in the program.
Kitty's eyes filled again. She blinked hard, refusing tears.
June watched XH's mouth move, watched his focus, and felt that strange pull of admiration and fear.
On the other bench, VT laughed with his crew like this was entertainment.
The crowd noise rose and fell.
The camera zoomed.
The institution smiled.
Game 1 was only beginning.
And Kitty could not shake the feeling that the rain was not weather.
It was memory.
It was foreshadow.
And it was going to get heavier before anyone reached shelter.