The student council room was bustling with activity that afternoon. Posters hung slightly askew on the walls, papers littered the long tables, and the sound of tape being repeatedly pulled apart mixed with the members' hurried footsteps. The scent of markers filled the air, creating a typical school atmosphere: bustling, moving, lively.
In the center of the room, Nayara stood with a clipboard in hand. Her movements were efficient and orderly, giving directions calmly but precisely.
"Documentation division, make sure the cameras are ready by three o'clock. Publications, revise the poster in front of the hall—the word 'competition' is still a typo. Logistics, double-check the sound system before use," she said firmly, but not bossily.
Several members immediately responded, "Okay, Nay!" before rushing off to carry out their respective tasks.
At the side of the room, Jovan leaned back in a folding chair. His gaze followed Nayara's movements from one point to another—her controlled steps, calm expression, and ever-focused gaze. But from that distance, Jovan also saw something most people didn't: a subtle fatigue beginning to appear on her face.
"Nay," Jovan called softly. "What time did you go to bed last night?"
Nayara didn't answer immediately. She was still writing her to-do list in small, neat handwriting. "As usual," she said curtly.
Jovan sighed softly. "But not soundly? Do you still often wake up in the middle of the night?"
Nayara smiled faintly. "Perfectionists can't sleep soundly if there's a misplaced comma."
Her tone was light, but not accompanied by genuine laughter. Under the room's light, her skin looked paler than usual. A strand of hair at her temple was slightly loose, and her shoulders slumped slightly, fatigue clearly visible.
Nisa emerged from behind a pile of boxes containing competition supplies. Her student council shirt was rolled up to her elbows, her forehead was slightly sweaty, but her smile was bright.
"You've always been a champion of exhaustion and stubbornness," she said, placing a bottle of drink on the table near Nayara.
Nayara glanced up briefly. "Exhaustion can disappear. Results can't."
Nisa raised an eyebrow. "If you faint, the results will be disappear too."
Nayara didn't respond. She resumed writing. This time, however, her fingertips trembled slightly before she gripped the pen tighter. It was barely noticeable, except to someone watching closely.
Jovan approached. "Nay, take a short break. Let me continue with the assignments."
"No need," she replied quickly. "I can do it, Jo." Her words sounded like reflex, not conviction.
Nisa sighed. "You always say that. Like you can't stop until everything is done."
Nayara smiled slightly. "If I stop, everyone else will too, right?"
That answer brought a moment of silence. Only the sound of a stapler and paper being folded could be heard on the other side of the room.
A thin bead of sweat appeared on Nayara's forehead. Her eyelids blinked slowly, as if trying to maintain focus on the writing in front of her. The letters on the to-do list began to blur in the edges of her vision, but she maintained the same smile.
In her mind, she repeated, I'm not tired. If I stop, everything will in a mess.
Jovan wanted to say more, but he knew his words wouldn't change Nayara's decision. So he simply stood nearby, as if his presence could provide an unsolicited support.
Around them, the world of the student council continued to move: posters were being put up, files were being arranged, and laughter echoed. No one noticed that Nayara, who always seemed so stable, was struggling to contain a fatigue she never admitted to.
From outside the window, the sky was a light gray—a sign that rain was about to fall.
Nisa glanced outside and said, "It's gonna rain soon."
Nayara glanced at the sky, then went back to writing. "It's okay. Luckily we're indoors."
She remained standing. She kept working, keeping everything running perfectly. Even though her body was begging her otherwise.