The dormitory corridor stretched dimly with the low hum of lamps, each step of Yuxin's slippers dragging a faint echo across the polished floor. Her chest still felt heavy, irritation simmering like hot coals under her ribs—the dream, the memory, the cruel reminder of what she had once been told she was: broken, unchosen. She thought she had buried it, locked it away where no one could reach. Yet here it was, clawing back into her head without permission.
By the time she reached the lobby, she wanted silence, maybe solitude. But instead, two familiar voices—soft, lilting, contrasting one another—drifted through the space. Mika Aurenwave sat sprawled like the lobby was her personal salon, ocean-blue hair catching the light as she gestured with her hands in some half-dramatic anecdote. Beside her, Rei sat far more composed, legs tucked neatly, posture poised, her presence quiet yet grounding.
Both turned when Yuxin stepped into view.
Mika's lips parted first, her tone a delicate greeting, almost surprisingly polite for her usual flair.
"Oh… well, well. Look who decided to grace us with her presence."
Rei's eyes followed gently, warm and inviting as always, her voice quieter, but carrying the soft assurance of someone who noticed more than she said.
"Good evening, Yuxin. You look tired."
Yuxin didn't answer right away. Her instincts told her to turn around, to climb the stairs back to her room, to ignore them both. But her legs betrayed her; they carried her forward, her figure sinking into the sofa across from them without so much as a word. She dropped her arms against the cushions and leaned back, eyes half-lidded, her face an unreadable scowl.
Mika's brows lifted. For a moment, surprise softened her usual grandeur before it curved into a mischievous smirk.
"My, my. You usually run from us like we're some plague of cheerfulness. And now you… sit with us? Darling, I'm honored. Or should I be suspicious?"
Yuxin shifted, her arms crossing tight, her words blunt, clipped, carrying the frustration still coiled in her.
"Don't flatter yourself. I just… didn't know where else to go. So I ended up here."
The confession wasn't loud, but it was honest in its own jagged way.
Mika gave a small laugh, almost delighted, though she tried to mask it with the back of her hand. Rei, meanwhile, offered no judgment, only a nod as though Yuxin's presence needed no excuse. She adjusted her sitting position slightly, making space—as though to say that Yuxin being here was enough, that no one demanded more than that.
The room settled. The hum of lamps, the faint rustle of Mika's hair when she moved, the stillness Rei carried into every space—it wrapped around Yuxin like a fragile, unspoken reprieve.
The soft yellow glow of the lobby lamps painted the sofa in warm tones, a little too cozy for Yuxin's current mood. She sat slouched, arms crossed, eyes flickering away as if the patterns in the carpet were the only things worth noticing. Rei tilted her head, studying her quietly for a few moments before breaking the silence.
"What's wrong? It's unlike you to just… sit here out of nowhere."
Her voice was gentle, like a teacup being placed on porcelain—no edge, no pressure, just curiosity with concern folded in. Mika, of course, leaned forward with an arched brow, chin resting on her knuckles like a performer ready to pry open a story.
"Yes, exactly. What brings the elusive Miss Yuxin into our humble company? Normally you storm off before we can even say hello."
Yuxin sighed, tilting her head back against the sofa cushion, her tone flat but not quite as biting as before.
"I'm not that bad. I can socialize. I just… don't always want to."
Mika's lips curled in amusement, her laugh a soft but theatrical flutter.
"Every day though? You mean to tell me that your constant avoidance is merely coincidence?"
Rei's smile was smaller, fainter, but her words slid through the space like warm tea poured into cold hands.
"You know, Yuxin… it's not healthy to always be alone. There's nothing wrong with choosing silence sometimes, but never letting others in… it chips away at you."
Yuxin's eyes narrowed, not in anger, but in defensiveness. She tapped her fingers against her arm before finally answering.
"I'm not always alone. I spend plenty of time with Blanche, Vila, and Ruka."
Mika let out a quiet hum, the kind of sound that dripped with disbelief. Her eyes sharpened with a teasing glint.
"Mm, yes. Blanche, Vila, Ruka. And… who else, darling? Because if memory serves, I've never seen you laugh with anyone else. Ever."
The words jabbed just enough to make Yuxin shift uncomfortably in her seat. Her jaw tensed, but she kept her voice steady.
"Maybe because there isn't anyone else that feels right. Every time some other student tries to talk to me, they—" she paused, searching for the right words, "—they get nervous. Or intimidated. I don't even mean to. It just happens."
For a moment, both Rei and Mika fell quiet. Rei's gaze softened further, like she could see the weight behind the admission. Mika's smirk dimmed into something less performative, her ocean-blue hair catching the light as she leaned back thoughtfully.
They both understood—Yuxin didn't push people away simply for the thrill of it. People backed off on their own, unable to pierce through the aura she carried like an involuntary shield.
"I see," Rei murmured, almost to herself.
Mika crossed her legs, arms folding with a mixture of amusement and sincerity.
"Well… that does explain a lot. Intimidation as your natural state. How very… you."
The jab was light, almost fond, and Rei shook her head softly at Mika's dramatics, though her eyes never left Yuxin's face.
Mika shifted forward on the sofa, her elbow propped on the armrest as that mischievous little smile tugged at her lips, eyes gleaming like she had been waiting for this very opening.
"Then why don't you come to my club tomorrow? The Tea Club."
Yuxin blinked at her, one brow arching as if Mika had just suggested something outlandish.
"Tea… club? Why would I go there?"
Mika's grin widened, one hand flicking her wavy blue hair back with a casual flourish, like she was presenting the offer on a silver platter.
"Because tomorrow we're holding a little social gathering with a few seniors. It's all very charming, very proper. You might even learn a thing or two about talking to people, instead of scaring them away."
Her tone was playful, but the words hit with a teasing sting. Yuxin narrowed her eyes, her mouth opening in protest, the refusal already forming at the tip of her tongue. She wanted to scoff, to say she had better things to do, to wave Mika off like she always did.
But then… what did she have to do? Nothing. Not tomorrow. Not the day after. Nothing but her own silence waiting in her dorm room.
The thought soured in her chest.
Yuxin clicked her tongue, folding her arms tighter as she muttered her reluctant answer.
"…Fine. I'll go."
The words came sharp, unwilling, but undeniable.
Mika's eyes lit up with triumphant delight, her laugh bubbling out like the clink of crystal.
"Ah, I knew it! You can't resist me."
Rei, however, looked genuinely surprised, her eyes widening before soft warmth bloomed across her face.
"Really? You'll go? That's wonderful, Yuxin."
There was no teasing in her tone, no mockery—just sincerity, as if Yuxin had agreed to something monumental rather than a casual club meeting.
Rei leaned in a little, her voice gentler now, carrying that steady rhythm that made people want to believe her.
"It'll be good for you. A new experience, and a chance to meet people who might… understand you more than you think. And… we'll be there too, of course."
Yuxin shifted uncomfortably under the warmth of their eyes, her lips tugging into something between a frown and an awkward grimace.
"Don't make a big deal out of it. I just don't have anything better to do."
Mika clapped her hands together, her laugh soft but victorious.
"Then it's settled. Tomorrow, you're ours."
Rei's smile lingered, softer than Mika's theatrical glow, but just as unwavering. For the first time in a long while, Yuxin found herself sitting there, the tension in her shoulders loosening against the cushions, surrounded by voices that—though different in tone—didn't feel so far away from her own.