Hanni's Gambit

10) Endgame Mastery

I did feel bad for what I'd done. Minji wasn't just another pawn in my game; she was an adult, capable of her own choices, but I had played her like I was still teaching a child a lesson. The realization sat heavily in my chest—what I'd done must have crushed her, the betrayal cutting deeper than I intended. It wasn't a clean move, either. No, it was cowardly. Like an underhanded retreat in chess, one where instead of pushing forward, you pull back a piece to avoid immediate danger. A move that shows you're playing scared.

That's what I'd done. I sacrificed her to protect myself, to climb higher, to avoid the threat of losing control. I'll think about her sometimes, probably in the middle of the night when the world is quiet, and the weight of my choices comes creeping in. But I'll move on, because I have to. I've climbed the ranks, left her in the dust behind me. She's a chapter I've closed.

Maybe one day, when I've reached the top, I'll have the luxury of looking back, of committing to something or someone. But not now. Not when every step I take is still part of the game, every decision a calculated move. Chess is life. It's all I have to hold onto, the one thing that keeps me going. If I lose sight of that, then everything I'm here for, everything I've fought for, would be a lie.

♟️🎓♣️

"What did you do to Professor Kim?" Harriet's voice cuts through the din of students chatting in the hallway, her tone both knowing and concerned. The second I shut my locker, she's there—her eyes narrowed with suspicion, arms crossed like she's bracing for whatever lie I'm about to tell.

I turn, meeting her gaze with the best innocent expression I can muster. "I don't know what you're talking about," I say, my voice as light and casual as I can make it. Feigning innocence has never been difficult for me, but Harriet is relentless. She's one of the few who hasn't been fooled by the facade I put up for everyone else.

We start walking down the hallway, the familiar bustle of school life surrounding us, but Harriet's questions cling to the air between us like smoke. Her shoes tap rhythmically on the linoleum floor as she keeps pace with me, eyes darting between my face and the hallway in front of us. She's probing, I can feel it.

"A week after the tournament, and suddenly, she's...different. Quieter," Harriet continues, her voice softer now, but there's an edge to it, like she's not sure if she's asking or accusing. "She's one of the best teachers we've got. Professional, smart, disciplined... You know, everything you're not." She smirks at her own jab, but it quickly fades, because she knows it's not true. "So what happened?"

I roll my eyes, brushing her off with a dismissive shrug. "She's probably just stressed, grading papers, or...whatever teachers do." I wave my hand, like it's not a big deal. "Why do you care so much?"

"Because something feels off, and you know it," Harriet says, her voice a mix of frustration and concern now. "You can't just mess with people like they're pawns in some game. You have a habit of getting under people's skin, Hanni."

I keep my face neutral, but inside, I can feel a flicker of annoyance rising. I've spent years perfecting the art of deflection, of making people think they know me when they really don't. Harriet might be the closest person I have to a friend, but even she's not getting the full picture. Not about Professor Kim. Not about what happened.

"Look," I say, stopping in the middle of the hallway, forcing Harriet to stop too. "I didn't do anything to her. She's a grown woman, she can handle herself." My voice is firmer now, more final. "Whatever's going on with her, it's got nothing to do with me."

Harriet studies me for a long moment, eyes searching mine like she's trying to pick apart the truth from the lie. But I've played this game before. I know how to keep my cards close.