The bus ride back to their neighborhood was a stark contrast to the opulence Kim and Seo-joon had witnessed all day. The seats were worn, the faint hum of the engine punctuated by the occasional bump in the road. The city lights blurred through the window as Kim stared out, lost in thought.

Seo-joon leaned back, his arms crossed. “Today was something, huh?” he said, breaking the silence.

Kim didn’t respond immediately. His mind replayed the images of the exclusive facilities, the luxurious privileges, and the unspoken barriers that separated him and his peers from the elites. He felt the weight of it all, a pressure that both crushed and ignited him.

“I expected a divide,” Kim said finally, his voice quiet but firm. “But seeing it… living it… it’s worse than I thought.”

Seo-joon nodded. “It’s not just about money. It’s about power. They’ve built a fortress, and we’re on the outside looking in.”

Kim’s grip tightened on his backpack strap. “Then we find a way inside.”

As they neared their stop, Seo-joon shifted the conversation. “Are you going to tell your family about all this? The restrictions, the treatment?”

Kim hesitated. He thought of his mother’s tired hands as she packed his lunch the morning he left for university. He thought of his siblings, who had hugged him tightly, their eyes shining with pride. How could he burden them with the reality of his challenges?

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“No,” he said finally. “They’ve already sacrificed so much to get me here. If they knew, it’d only hurt them.”

Seo-joon didn’t press him further, sensing the weight of Kim’s resolve.

When the bus stopped, the two stepped out into the cool night air. Their neighborhood was a world away from the university’s grandeur—a patchwork of modest homes and narrow streets lit by flickering streetlights.

As they walked, Seo-joon tried to lighten the mood. “At least we’ve got each other, right? Strength in numbers.”

Kim managed a small smile. “Yeah. Strength in numbers.”

When they reached their respective homes, Kim lingered outside for a moment, staring at the darkened windows of his house. He thought about the life his family had built—humble, but full of love. He couldn’t let them down.

Inside, the house was quiet. His younger sister had fallen asleep on the couch, her schoolbooks spread around her. Kim carefully gathered them and placed them on the table. His mother appeared in the doorway, her face lined with fatigue but brightened by a smile when she saw him.

“Long day?” she asked softly.

Kim nodded, forcing a reassuring smile. “Just getting used to everything. The campus is… big.”

His mother chuckled. “That’s good. Big places mean big opportunities.”

He nodded again, her words sinking deep into his heart. As he climbed into bed later that night, Kim stared at the ceiling, his mind racing. The university was more than just a school—it was a battlefield of privilege, power, and ambition.

If I want to win this game, I’ll need to play smarter than them, he thought.

And with that, Kim made a silent decision. He would endure the divide, learn its weaknesses, and find a way to rise above it. For his family, for himself, and for those like him who deserved more than scraps from the table of the elite.

As the first rays of dawn crept into his room, Kim drifted into a restless sleep, his determination burning brighter than ever.