Chapter 22 Mints Revelation
Oom Eisaya did not plan to confront Mint Cho.
In fact, if given a choice, she would have happily avoided that woman for the rest of her academic life.
Unfortunately, life had other plans.
And by “life,” she meant—
Desperation.
“…this is a bad idea,” Oom muttered as she stood outside the Psychology building, pacing back and forth like she was about to enter a boss fight she was severely underleveled for.
“You’ve been saying that for the past ten minutes.”
Oom stopped pacing and turned to glare at Yada.
“Because it is a bad idea.”
“Then why are we here?”
“Because I need answers.”
“And you think Mint is just going to sit you down and explain everything nicely?”
Oom hesitated.
“…no.”
“Exactly.”
“I’m hoping she’ll threaten me again but with more information.”
Yada snorted. “That’s not a strategy. That’s self-sabotage.”
“It’s all I have left.”
Yada crossed her arms, studying her.
“You look like you haven’t slept.”
“I haven’t.”
“That’s not attractive.”
“I am not trying to be attractive right now.”
“You’re always trying to be attractive around Bam.”
Oom froze.
“…don’t say her name.”
“Why not?”
“Because I might cry.”
Yada blinked.
“…oh.”
“Yeah.”
“…okay, we’re upgrading this from ‘funny meltdown’ to ‘actual problem.’”
“Thank you for noticing.”
Yada sighed, running a hand through her hair.
“Fine. Let’s do this.”
---
Mint wasn’t hard to find.
Of course she wasn’t.
She was exactly where Oom expected her to be—leaning against a pillar near the entrance, scrolling through her phone like she had all the time in the world and none of the patience for anything unnecessary.
She noticed them immediately.
Of course she did.
Mint always noticed everything.
“…you’re persistent,” Mint said, glancing up as Oom approached.
“I’m desperate,” Oom corrected.
“Same thing.”
Yada stepped slightly behind Oom, arms crossed, watching like she was attending a live drama performance.
Oom took a breath.
Then another.
Then—
“…tell me what happened to her.”
Straight to the point.
No hesitation.
No buildup.
Mint didn’t react immediately.
She just looked at Oom.
Long.
Carefully.
As if measuring something.
“…why.”
Oom clenched her hands.
“Because she’s pushing me away.”
Mint didn’t look surprised.
“She would.”
“That’s not helpful.”
“It’s accurate.”
Oom stepped closer.
“I don’t care about accurate. I care about understanding.”
Mint’s gaze sharpened slightly.
“You think understanding will fix this?”
“I think not understanding is making it worse.”
Silence.
Then—
“…you’re not wrong,” Mint admitted.
Oom exhaled slowly.
“…then tell me.”
Mint hesitated.
Just for a moment.
Then she pushed herself off the pillar, standing properly now, her posture straight, her expression more serious than Oom had ever seen it.
“This isn’t something I usually share.”
“I figured.”
“But you’re already involved.”
Oom’s chest tightened.
“…I am.”
Mint studied her one last time.
Then—
“She didn’t used to be like this.”
Oom stilled.
“You said that before.”
“I did.”
“And now you’re going to explain it.”
Mint didn’t smile.
Didn’t soften.
She just spoke.
---
“Bam used to feel everything,” Mint said quietly. “Too much, actually.”
Oom listened.
Didn’t interrupt.
Didn’t breathe too loudly.
Just—
Listened.
“She was open. Honest. Emotional in a way that made her easy to read.”
Oom’s chest tightened slightly.
That sounded—
Nothing like the Bam she knew during the day.
“She trusted people easily,” Mint continued. “Gave them everything without hesitation.”
Oom swallowed.
“…and they hurt her.”
Mint’s gaze flickered.
“Yes.”
The answer was simple.
But it carried weight.
“What happened?” Oom asked softly.
Mint looked away for a second.
Then back.
“…someone she trusted used her.”
Oom’s stomach dropped.
“How?”
Mint’s jaw tightened slightly.
“Emotionally first. Then… in other ways.”
Oom’s hands clenched.
“…other ways?”
Mint didn’t elaborate.
She didn’t need to.
The implication was enough.
And Oom—
Felt sick.
“That’s when everything changed,” Mint said. “She didn’t just get hurt. She broke.”
Oom’s chest ached.
“…and she shut down.”
“Yes.”
“Completely?”
“Not completely.”
Oom blinked.
“…what do you mean.”
Mint’s gaze sharpened again.
“She didn’t lose those emotions.”
Oom’s breath caught.
“She buried them.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Real.
“…that’s what I’m seeing at night,” Oom whispered.
Mint didn’t react.
Didn’t confirm.
Didn’t deny.
But she didn’t need to.
Because Oom already knew.
---
“She created distance,” Mint continued. “Built control. Structured everything so she wouldn’t feel like that again.”
Oom nodded slowly.
“That’s day Bam.”
“Yes.”
“And night…”
Oom trailed off.
Because saying it out loud—
Made it too real.
Mint finished it for her.
“…is everything she suppresses.”
Oom’s chest tightened painfully.
“…that’s why she’s different.”
“Yes.”
“That’s why she—”
Oom stopped.
Because suddenly—
Everything made sense.
The clinginess.
The desperation.
The way Bam held onto her like she was something she was afraid to lose.
The way she whispered things she would never say during the day.
“…she’s not just being affectionate,” Oom murmured.
Mint shook her head.
“No.”
“She’s… scared.”
Mint didn’t answer.
But her silence—
Said enough.
---
“And now she’s remembering,” Oom said quietly.
Mint nodded.
“That’s the problem.”
Oom looked up.
“…why is that a problem.”
Mint’s expression hardened slightly.
“Because she’s not ready.”
Oom frowned.
“For what?”
“To face it.”
Oom’s heart pounded.
“She’s already lived it.”
“She didn’t process it.”
Silence.
“…so now—”
“She’s being forced to,” Mint finished.
Oom’s chest tightened.
“And she’s reacting by pushing me away.”
“Yes.”
Oom laughed softly.
Not amused.
Not happy.
Just—
Tired.
“That’s great.”
Mint studied her.
“You’re taking this well.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re not running away.”
“I don’t want to.”
Mint’s gaze softened.
Just slightly.
“…that’s new.”
Oom blinked.
“…what.”
“Most people leave when it gets complicated.”
Oom shook her head.
“I don’t want to leave.”
Mint held her gaze.
“…even after knowing all this?”
Oom didn’t hesitate.
“Yes.”
Because that—
That was the truth.
As messy as this was.
As complicated as this was.
As painful as this was—
She still wanted Bam.
Both versions.
All of her.
“…you’re stubborn,” Mint said.
“I’ve been told that.”
“You’ll need to be.”
Oom exhaled slowly.
“…what should I do.”
Mint didn’t answer immediately.
Then—
“Be careful.”
Oom frowned.
“That’s not advice.”
“It’s the only advice I can give.”
Oom’s frustration flickered.
“That’s not enough.”
“It has to be.”
Silence settled between them.
Heavy.
But not hostile.
Just—
Real.
---
Yada stepped forward slightly.
“…so basically,” she said, looking between them, “Bam is emotionally constipated during the day and emotionally unhinged at night.”
Oom choked.
“Yada—”
Mint blinked.
“…that’s one way to put it.”
“I’m not wrong,” Yada said proudly.
“You’re not,” Mint admitted.
Oom covered her face.
“I cannot believe this is my life.”
Yada patted her shoulder.
“It’s a good story though.”
“I don’t want a story. I want stability.”
“You chose chaos.”
“I didn’t choose this!”
“You fell in love with it.”
“…that’s worse.”
---
As they walked away—
Oom felt heavier.
But clearer.
Because now—
She understood.
Not everything.
Not completely.
But enough.
Enough to know—
This wasn’t simple.
This wasn’t easy.
This wasn’t something she could fix overnight.
“…so what now?” Yada asked.
Oom looked ahead.
Toward the campus.
Toward the building where Bam probably was.
“…now,” Oom said quietly, “I talk to her.”
Yada raised an eyebrow.
“You sure?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“But I’m going to do it anyway.”
Yada grinned.
“That’s my girl.”
Oom exhaled slowly.
Because this—
This was going to hurt.
But avoiding it—
Was already hurting more.
And if Bam was breaking—
Then Oom wasn’t going to stand there and watch.
Even if it meant—
Breaking a little herself.