It was almost October, and the school was practically buzzing with excitement.
The halls were chaotic, the classrooms a cacophony of chatter, and the clubrooms? They were the epicenter of all the madness.
Everyone had been rehearsing for the big upcoming program: The Club Showcase.
The staff made the announcement—loud and clear: clubs needed more members, and this was their chance to show off what they were made of. Of course, they also wanted students to "enjoy" the whole studying thing while they were at it.
And me? Hannah, a self-proclaimed non-club member, somehow got tangled up in all this mess anyway. Here I was, once again, trapped in the middle of their nonsense.
---
"Hey! We talked to her first! She's coming with us!" the girls on my right said, clinging to my arm like they were trying to drag me away—the theater club, of course.
"Oh, please. Hannah said she'd be spectating and helping us with practice!" the drama club fired back from the other side.
And there I was, a completely uninvolved student, stuck in the middle of a tug-of-war.
Both clubs kept yanking me back and forth like I was some human rope. At this point, I was just... done. I already had enough of the academic grind—and now these people didn't even bother to ask if I wanted to help.
"Uyyyyyy!!!!"
Naomi suddenly came barreling down the hallway, making everyone—including me—turn to stare.
She was sprinting like an Olympic athlete, nostrils flaring, determination radiating off her like steam.
With a dramatic slide, Naomi stopped dead in her tracks and crossed her arms, giving the arguing students a death stare.
"Ugh, shoo," she muttered, walking toward me and waving her hands like she was swatting away flies.
A small sigh escaped my lips when they finally let go of me. Some of them were still grumbling, but Naomi wasn't having any of it.
"Hey! I said back off!" she growled in her best do-not-mess-with-me tone.
"My wife is not available today, folks," she added casually, draping her arm over my back like a protective shield.
A couple of students let out disappointed groans—just in time for Levi to step forward with a smug grin.
"Wait, wait, wait!" he called out, his voice dripping with curiosity as he approached. "Why can't we have her today? She's just gonna sit and watch anyway, right?"
Naomi's frown deepened, and with a grand flourish, she raised both hands, presenting me like some kind of rare exhibit.
"Can't you see she's tired?! She's not even in a club! Why are you guys always bugging her to help whenever you have a free second?" Naomi huffed, her voice rising like an exasperated melody.
Levi, unfazed, raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me, Hannah's friend—"
"It's Naomi!" she snapped, narrowing her eyes.
"Alright, Miss Naomi~," Levi drawled, the sarcasm thick in his voice. "How can you complain when your own club's been getting help from Hannah, huh? Hm?"
Naomi's frustration ignited into full-blown fire.
"Well, because I'm her friend! I let her rest—I don't bug her every second like you guys!" she snapped, voice dripping with irritation.
That didn't sit too well with Levi. His face twisted into a mischievous grin.
"Uh-huh, really? Well, you saying you let her rest just proves your club made her tired," he shot back, tone challenging. "You know... calling someone over just to help whenever you need it?"
Naomi's face flushed red, practically vibrating with anger.
"Excuse me, I'm sorry if I asked help from my friends—at least my members didn't stalk her around like desperate fans!" Naomi scoffed.
Levi's jaw dropped. "What did you just say???"
But before things could escalate further, Junia popped up out of nowhere and wedged herself between them.
"Both of you—STOP!!" she barked, hands planted firmly on her hips.
"What??" Naomi and Levi snapped in unison, turning to glare at her.
Junia flinched slightly under the intensity of their gazes but quickly recovered. She pointed at me, then at them.
"Look at her!" Junia said, gesturing wildly. "She's practically dead on her feet! She's done with both of you!"
And there I stood, dead serious, exhaustion stamped all over my face, silently watching them argue like I was an unwilling audience at a bad comedy show. Not even worth the energy to comment.
Naomi and Levi finally turned their attention to me—and fell into guilty silence.
I sighed and muttered, "I'm not helping today. Naomi... or her club."
While Naomi's members looked disappointed, the drama club members practically wilted.
I turned to the drama club, their faces pleading like desperate puppies. I sighed again for what felt like the thousandth time.
"Fine," I relented. "I'll watch your practice. If I have feedback, I'll just write it down and pass it to you."
Instantly, their faces lit up like they'd won the lottery. The other club... not so much.
As the drama club members celebrated, I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye— Harin, standing apart, quietly watching the whole thing unfold.
He walked toward me slowly, his expression... concerned?
"Are you sure you want to help us?" he asked, his voice soft.
I glanced at him. "Yeah. Why?"
"You don't look so great," he said. "And just like Naomi said... you should really rest."
I waved him off. "I'm fine. Just didn't get enough sleep."
"Just that?" Harin raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.
I didn't answer right away. I didn't want to go into the details. Eventually, I nodded. "Yeah."
Harin didn't look entirely convinced. But he smiled softly anyway. "Okay... if you say so."
After the chaos simmered down, I gave Naomi a tiny, reluctant wave before following the drama club into their clubroom. Her face—caught between worry and something unspoken—watched me go, her eyes lingering on me for a beat too long.
---
[Harin's POV]
The practice had already begun, the room filled with the sound of my members fully immersed in their characters, their lines rising and falling like a symphony. The music swelled, the mood shifting with each scene.
And here I stood, lingering by the window, sweating under the weight of my own thoughts as I idly sipped water. I'd already finished my part, but there I was, rooted to the spot, watching, my fingers tracing the edge of the window's sill.
It had been an hour, and yet, the repetition never ceased. And then there was Hannah, sitting there with her usual seriousness, asking us to run through the scenes again. And again.
My gaze stayed fixed on her, her focused expression absorbing the room's energy, the way she always seemed to carry a quiet storm behind those tired eyes.
I couldn't seem to look away. At first, I thought she was just this cold, blunt force of nature — someone who didn't sugarcoat things. Someone who could drop truth bombs and leave you standing in their wake. But then, one day, my feet moved on their own to catch her when she fell. I remembered how my heart stumbled in that moment, weighed down by unexpected worry and anxiety.
It was strange to feel this way for someone I barely knew. But somehow, I couldn't shake the feeling that whenever she hurt, I hurt too.
Like now.
Her serious expression, the constant sighs, the way her mind wandered. Her face, drawn with exhaustion, but still, she stayed. She endured. And somehow, that only made me want to protect her more.
---
Clap—!
Levi's clap broke the tension, signaling the end of practice. The room filled with thank-yous directed at Hannah, who nodded in return, her expression distant. People scattered, busy with the usual aftermath—sweeping the floor, picking up props, organizing the chaos left behind.
I sighed softly, removing the props I had and handing them off to my friend before my gaze inevitably found her again. Hannah approached Levi, a paper clutched in her hand.
Without thinking, I took the remaining props and passed them off, then watched as she spoke to Levi. I couldn't help but be drawn to their interaction. But then, something fluttered from her grasp—her sketchpad, its pages slipping with the soft wind of the room.
A small, almost invisible paper drifted to the ground. I made my way over and picked it up, intending to return it, but then something caught my eye.
I stared.
It was... me.
I blinked, my confusion growing.
I quickly glanced back at Levi, but by the time I turned my head, Hannah was already slipping out the door. My feet moved before my brain could catch up, and I found myself chasing her.
"Hannah!" I called, my voice echoing in the quiet hall.
She stopped, turning slowly, her eyes locking with mine—curious, but guarded.
I held out the paper, my fingers nervously gripping the edges. "You dropped this."
Her gaze flicked to the paper, then to me. A flicker of something passed across her face, but she didn't say a word at first.
"You can have it," she said, her tone casual, almost dismissive.
"Oh? Why?" The question slipped out before I could stop it, and suddenly, I realized how my heart quickened in my chest. What was this sudden rush? Why was I so desperate to understand?
She stared at me, her eyes unreadable. "You already saw it, didn't you?"
I blinked. "Huh?"
"The drawing," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Uh... yeah," I muttered.
"It's you," she added, so matter-of-factly that it almost stung.
"Yes, I know." I barely registered the words slipping from her lips, and yet, something about it hung in the air, unsaid.
"But why?" I couldn't help but ask, even as the words left me, my voice barely above a whisper. It was a question that seemed to carry too much weight, too many things left unspoken.
"Just because," she said quickly, her voice still light, but there was something empty about it.
Just because? That was all?
I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more, but when I looked at her, she just seemed... so indifferent.
I exhaled slowly, disappointment bubbling in my chest, though I couldn't quite place why.
"But how about that time?" I pressed again, voice softening, heart racing despite myself. "The performance. I know that wasn't Junia... It was your first time watching us, wasn't it? When I played her role?"
She fell silent for a moment, and then, almost too casually, she spoke. "I drew it because your performance stuck with me."
My breath caught in my throat. Her words were simple, but they were enough to leave me silent. "You were amazing," she added quietly.
And there it was. The first compliment I'd ever heard from her. It was strange, almost surreal, and for a moment, I was lost for words.
A slow smile tugged at the corner of my lips, one I hadn't planned on. And then—strangely enough—her lips curved too. But there was something more, something mischievous behind it.
"Now my mouth is being nicer, are you happy now?" She teased, her voice light but sharp.
"Huh?" I blinked, completely caught off guard by her sudden shift.
With lightning speed, she grabbed a piece of paper and handed it to me, her sly grin never wavering. "Your note," she said, as if it were a game.
I stood there, blinking, my mind trying to catch up. Before I knew it, she waved and turned to leave.
"Bye, now~" she called out, her voice a playful lilt as she walked away, leaving me standing there, dumbfounded.
I waved absentmindedly, still processing the moment, before I glanced down at the paper she'd given me. The moment I saw it, it clicked—my heart skipped a beat.
"So that's why she said that. How mean."
I stared at the note for a second longer, a small amused groan slipping from my lips as I slid it into my pocket.
I could still hear the faint sound of her footsteps echoing down the hall.
And I wondered if she even realized the way she left little pieces of herself behind—like it didn't mean anything.
But it did.
It meant something to me.