The campus gave them the phone call window like it was a gift.
It arrived as a posted notice outside the dorm blocks, printed cleanly, taped at eye level, written in the same calm font as every other rule.
PARENTAL CONTACT WINDOW
SUNDAY 6:00 PM to 6:20 PM
ONE CALL PER STUDENT
SUPERVISED
NO VIDEO CALLS
NO RECORDING
NO EXCEPTIONS
Twenty minutes.
One call.
Supervised.
Even comfort had to be rationed here.
All day, the idea of that window sat in their stomachs heavier than beans curry. Students moved through lectures and conditioning with a strange restlessness, as if their bodies were already waiting for 6:00 PM. The campus had found another way to control them.
Give them something human, then measure how desperately they reach for it.
XH felt it more than he wanted to admit. His phone had been dead for days, not truly dead, but locked away by policy, turned into a silent brick that still carried every unread message like a weight. He kept thinking of his grandmother, of the way she would pretend not to worry while worrying anyway.
He kept thinking of the last time he had heard her voice.
It made his chest tighten.
JP pretended he didn't care. That was his specialty. He joked about calling his mom to complain about the beans curry like it was a restaurant review.
"I'm going to say, Mom, they're trying to turn your son into a bean. Please send rescue."
TZ laughed, but it sounded thinner than usual.
HS didn't joke at all. HS counted the hours until 6:00 PM like it was medication. His eyes looked tired, not from study, but from holding himself together.
NS acted like the phone call window was a tactical meeting.
"Be careful what you say," he told the boys at lunch. "They're listening."
JP rolled his eyes. "They listen to everything. You want me to talk in code."
NS didn't smile. "Yes."
XH watched NS's face. That calm, controlled expression. It had become constant since they arrived. XH couldn't decide if it was strength or something colder.
June and Kitty didn't mention the phone window out loud, but everyone could feel it in the way they moved. June's posture was even straighter than usual. Kitty's hands fidgeted more often, twisting the cap of her water bottle, smoothing the edge of her sleeve, small restless motions that betrayed how much she was holding back.
The romance between them had been bleeding for weeks, even before the relocation. It had never been officially labeled, but it lived in glances, proximity, unsaid promises, and jealousy sharp enough to cut. In Campus 2, it had been messy but warm. Here, it was dangerous.
Affection was evidence.
Jealousy was leverage.
Silence was survival.
Sometime in the afternoon, when staff were distracted by another inspection and the wind was loud enough to carry away whispers, Kitty and June ended up standing near the water station behind the lecture block. XH approached to refill his bottle, and NS followed a step behind like he always did now.
The four of them stood in the same narrow space, close enough to feel each other's breath in the cold air.
No one spoke for a moment.
Then June said, quietly, "We should pause."
Kitty's gaze lifted. "Pause what."
June's eyes flicked toward the cameras, then back. "Everything."
XH understood immediately, and that understanding hurt.
Kitty's jaw tightened. "You mean… us."
June nodded once. "Until we get out of here."
XH looked at Kitty. Kitty looked at June. It was a triangle that had always been sharp, but now it was being forced into a shape that could keep them alive.
Kitty swallowed. Her voice came soft, controlled. "I don't want to lose time."
June's expression didn't crack, but her eyes did. "We're losing time anyway."
XH felt his throat tighten, not because he disagreed, but because the truth tasted bitter.
NS spoke then, calm as ever. "It's smart."
Kitty's eyes flicked to him, sharp. "Of course you think it's smart."
NS didn't react. "This place will use whatever it can."
June glanced at XH. "We survive first."
XH nodded slowly. "We survive first."
Kitty exhaled, like she had been holding her breath all day. "Fine," she whispered. "Truce."
June's mouth twitched, not a smile, more like an acknowledgment. "Truce."
No one said love. No one said choose. No one said future.
They said truce, because truce sounded like something you could hold without breaking.
They separated without looking back.
At 5:55 PM, students were marched to the communication hall. It was a long room filled with stations, each station a desk and a landline phone. No personal phones allowed. Staff stood at the edges like referees watching a match.
The air in the hall smelled like disinfectant and stale breath.
A staff member explained the rules again, voice flat.
"Twenty minutes. One call. Speak clearly. Keep it appropriate. End immediately at time."
Keep it appropriate.
As if love for your parents could be inappropriate.
XH's group was assigned desks near the center. The girls were placed on the other side of the room, still separated even here. XH could see Kitty's blonde head bent over the phone, could see June's shoulders square as she lifted the receiver.
At the front, a digital clock glowed red.
6:00 PM.
The calls began.
JP dialed first, hands moving fast, like he didn't want anyone to see hesitation. His mom answered quickly, voice loud even through the receiver.
"JP? Are you okay? Where are you? Why didn't you message."
JP leaned closer and lowered his voice, like he didn't want staff to hear him soften.
"Mom," he said, forcing a grin into his voice, "I'm alive. They feed us beans curry and rice like we're in a survival show. I think I'm developing bean-based trauma."
His mom didn't laugh.
"Stop joking," she said. "Are they treating you well."
JP's throat moved as he swallowed. He softened slightly, just enough to be real.
"I'm okay," he said. "I'm with my friends. We're together."
His mom exhaled audibly. "Come home if it's bad."
JP glanced sideways at the bell outside, visible through a high window. He didn't say bell. He didn't say the price. He didn't say the transfer. He just said, "I can't yet. Not yet."
His mom's voice cracked. "Be careful."
JP's voice turned quieter. "I am. I promise."
TZ's call was next. He dialed, listened, smiled when his dad answered like he was annoyed to be interrupted.
"What," his dad said.
TZ laughed lightly. "Nice to hear you too."
His dad's tone shifted when he realized where TZ was. "They moved you. Your mother is worried."
TZ looked down at his hand, fingers tapping the desk.
"It's fine," he said. "It's strict, but it's fine."
His dad snorted. "Strict means someone wants something."
TZ's smile faded. "Yeah."
His dad's voice softened. "Eat. Sleep when you can. Don't fight stupid fights."
TZ glanced toward JP, then back. "I won't."
HS's call took longer to connect, because HS's hands trembled when he dialed. When his mother answered, her voice was immediate panic disguised as calm.
"HS," she whispered. "You sound tired."
HS swallowed. "I am."
"Come home," she said quickly. "We can figure something else out."
HS's eyes flicked toward the bell in the distance. His mouth tightened.
"I can't," he whispered. "Not yet."
"Why," his mother asked, voice breaking. "Why do you always endure."
HS's voice went small, almost childlike. "Because I don't want to start over."
A staff member walked closer behind him. HS straightened instantly, face blank, voice controlled.
"I'm okay," he said louder. "Don't worry."
His mother hesitated. She understood. She didn't like it, but she understood.
"Call again when you can," she said.
HS nodded, even though she couldn't see. "I will."
NS's call was different.
He dialed without hesitation. His father answered on the first ring, voice cold and sharp, like every call was an evaluation.
"NS," his father said. "Report."
NS's posture straightened as if he had been trained for this his whole life. "I'm at the training campus."
"I know where you are," his father snapped. "Your ranking."
NS's jaw clenched. "They haven't posted final rankings yet."
His father's voice grew harder.
"Top three. That is the only acceptable outcome."
NS's eyes flicked briefly toward XH. Then away.
"Yes," NS said.
"Do not embarrass me," his father continued. "Do not get distracted by foolishness. Do not attach yourself to weak people."
NS's expression remained calm, but XH saw something in his eyes. A flicker. Anger. Shame. Something bottled.
"I understand," NS said.
His father paused. "Do you."
NS's voice turned quieter, almost too controlled. "Yes."
The call ended with no warmth, no goodbye.
NS placed the receiver down carefully and stared at the desk for a second longer than necessary.
XH wanted to say something. He didn't.
He watched NS's hands. They were steady, but the knuckles were white.
Then it was XH's turn.
He dialed his grandmother's number. The ring sounded too loud in the quiet hall. One. Two. Three.
She answered.
"XH," she said, voice immediately soft, as if she had been holding it there waiting for him.
XH's throat tightened. "Grandma."
She exhaled. "Are you eating."
He almost laughed, because that was always her first question, no matter the world's chaos.
"Yes," he lied automatically, then corrected himself, because he didn't want to lie to her. "I'm eating. It's… simple food."
"Simple food is still food," she said. "Are you sleeping."
XH hesitated. "Some."
She clicked her tongue softly. "You always say some when you mean not enough."
His eyes stung. He blinked hard.
"I'm okay," he said.
She didn't argue. She didn't need to. She loved him without demanding proof.
"I prayed for you," she said quietly. "I prayed for your mind to stay clear. For your heart to stay gentle."
XH swallowed. "I'm trying."
Her voice warmed. "Do you still have your friends."
"Yes," he said. "They're here."
"And the girls," she asked, gentle but knowing. She had always been wiser than she pretended.
XH's chest tightened. "They're here too."
His grandmother's voice softened even more. "Be kind. But don't break yourself trying to be kind."
XH stared at the desk. That line hit too close.
"I'll be careful," he whispered.
"Good," she said. "Come home when you can."
XH's eyes flicked toward the bell outside the window. He didn't mention it. He couldn't.
"I will," he said, because he needed to believe it.
Kitty's call ended around the same time. XH caught a fragment of her mother's voice, warm and encouraging, even through distance.
"Don't shrink yourself," her mother said. "If you want something, don't pretend you don't."
Kitty's face tightened. She glanced toward XH once, then looked down.
June's call looked different. June's posture was rigid, her voice low. The tone of her mother's voice carried even from a distance, controlled and sharp like a knife wrapped in silk.
"Do not embarrass us," June's mother said. "You must be first."
June's jaw tightened. "I know."
"You will not be distracted," her mother continued.
June's eyes flicked toward XH, then away. "I know."
It wasn't an argument. It wasn't warmth. It was pressure being delivered like dinner.
When the calls ended, the staff announced time.
"Phones down. Stand. Exit."
Twenty minutes was over.
Hope was rationed again.
They filed out into the cold air, the sky dark now, wind sharper. The bell stood in the center square, silent, shadowed.
The group gathered near the dorm walkway, not too close, not too obvious, because staff still watched.
JP exhaled hard. "My mom thinks I'm being kidnapped."
TZ muttered, "Same."
HS's voice was small. "My mom told me to come home."
Silence settled.
Kitty stood slightly apart, arms wrapped around herself, blonde hair catching faint light. June stood near her, expression composed, but her eyes looked tired in a way June would hate admitting.
XH spoke quietly. "Truce still stands."
Kitty looked at him. Her gaze softened. "Yes."
June nodded once. "Yes."
NS said, "Good."
JP blinked. "Why do you sound like a manager."
NS didn't react.
XH felt irritation rise again. Not because NS said good. Because NS always spoke like he had authority now.
As they walked back toward the dorm blocks, NS fell into step beside XH.
Low voice. Private.
"You heard what my father said," NS murmured.
XH glanced at him. "Top three."
NS's jaw tightened. "He thinks weakness is contagious."
XH didn't know what to say.
NS continued, softer. "This place will punish us if we fracture. So don't fracture."
XH's voice came sharp. "Stop telling me what to do."
NS paused, then spoke calmly. "You're tired. That's why you're irritated."
XH clenched his jaw.
That was the kind of line that sounded caring but felt like control.
Before XH could answer, NS's phone, hidden, vibrated once in his pocket. NS didn't pull it out. He didn't look around. He simply turned his body slightly away from XH, shielding the motion.
XH noticed anyway.
NS's thumb moved briefly against fabric, like he was reading without showing the screen.
Then it stopped.
NS looked back at XH as if nothing happened.
XH's stomach tightened.
He didn't accuse.
He couldn't.
Accusing would fracture.
And fracture was what the campus wanted.
So XH swallowed it.
He swallowed irritation like he had swallowed beans curry.
He swallowed suspicion like he had swallowed fear.
He swallowed it all to keep the group standing.
That night, at 8 PM, the phone ban returned. The propaganda screening began again. MALT's face appeared on screen, calm, smiling, promising order with a voice that felt like a blade.
Outside the hall, the night circle formed again, quieter, tighter.
NC watched the exits. Cherry watched the people. Anna watched the ground. Jihye watched the sky.
Kitty watched XH when she thought no one noticed.
June watched Kitty watching XH and looked away, pride tightening her throat.
NS watched all of them.
XH felt that watchfulness like a hand on his shoulder.
At the end of the night, they returned to dorms.
XH lay in his bunk staring at the ceiling.
His phone was locked away. His world was reduced to wind, rules, and the sound of the bell rope creaking faintly outside.
He thought about the truce.
He thought about his grandmother's voice.
He thought about June's mother's cold control.
He thought about Kitty's mother's quiet encouragement.
He thought about NS's father's aggression.
He thought about how this campus didn't need to break them with violence.
It only needed to place them under pressure long enough that they broke each other.
XH closed his eyes.
He promised himself something without speaking it out loud.
Survive first.
Then choose.
Then fight.
But even as he promised it, he felt the truth hovering in the dark.
Some battles start before you know you're in them.
And some betrayals start so quietly they sound like friendship.