Lunch break came faster than I expected.
The classroom slowly emptied—
chairs scraping, voices overlapping, footsteps fading into the hallway.
But I didn't move.
For a moment, I just sat there.
My fingers rested on the edge of my notebook, tracing the same line again and again.
Everything felt normal.
And yet—
nothing felt the same.
"Jia."
Yian's voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
I looked up.
He was standing beside my desk, his usual relaxed expression slightly softer now.
"You're not coming?" he asked.
I forced a small smile.
"…I will. You go first."
He didn't move.
Instead, he looked at me for a second longer—
like he was trying to figure something out.
"…No," he said suddenly.
I blinked.
"Hmm?"
"You're not staying here alone."
Before I could react, he reached for my wrist—lightly, not forceful.
"Come on."
"Yian, I said I'll come—"
"Yeah," he interrupted, "eventually."
He pulled me up from my seat anyway.
I didn't resist this time.
Not because I couldn't—
but because I didn't really want to.
The hallway was already crowded when we stepped out.
"See? If I left you, you'd still be sitting there," Yian said casually.
I let out a small breath.
"…Maybe."
"Not maybe. Definitely."
There was a pause.
Then he glanced at me from the side.
"…You okay?"
The question was simple.
But I didn't know how to answer it.
So I just nodded.
"…Yeah."
He didn't say anything after that.
But he didn't let go either.
Not until we reached the cafeteria.
The noise hit us immediately.
Students talking loudly, trays clattering, laughter filling the space.
Yian finally let go of my wrist and gestured toward a table.
"Sit. I'll get the food."
"You don't have to—"
"I know," he said. "But I will."
And just like that, he walked away.
I sat down quietly.
For a moment—
everything felt normal again.
Not because things had changed—
but because someone stayed.
Yian placed the tray in front of me.
"Eat before it gets cold," he said.
"Thank you," I replied softly.
He sat down across from me, already picking up his chopsticks like nothing was wrong.
For a moment, I just looked at the food.
Then—
I noticed another tray being placed beside us.
I didn't need to look up to know.
"…Sihoon," Yian called casually, "over here."
There was a small pause.
Then—
a chair moved.
He sat down.
Beside Yian.
Not beside me.
I kept my gaze lowered.
"Why are you sitting so far?" Yian complained lightly.
"There's space here."
"I'm fine here," Sihoon replied.
Calm.
Simple.
Like it didn't matter.
"Suit yourself," Yian shrugged.
The conversation shifted to something else.
Something normal.
Minhu joined in from the side, joking about clubs again.
Yoonji laughed.
Yian argued back dramatically.
Their voices filled the space.
But I barely heard any of it.
Because—
even without looking—
I could feel him there.
Close enough.
And still—
so far away.
I picked up my chopsticks slowly.
"…You should eat too," Yian said, glancing at me.
"I am," I replied quietly.
But the food didn't taste like anything.
At some point—
I looked up.
Just for a second.
Sihoon was talking to Minhu.
That same small smile—
the one I knew so well—
But it wasn't for me.
I looked down again.
"…It's nothing," I told myself silently.
And this time—
I didn't question it.
I just accepted it.
Yian leaned back slightly, glancing at me.
"So… what are you doing after school?" he asked.
"We have a basketball game today. Are you coming?"
For a second—
I didn't answer.
My thoughts were somewhere else.
Then I spoke, keeping my voice calm.
"…No."
I paused.
"I have to go to the shop."
It sounded normal.
Like any other day.
"Again?" Yian frowned slightly.
"You're always working."
"I'm used to it," I replied quietly.
He was about to say something—
but stopped.
Maybe he noticed.
Or maybe he didn't know how to ask.
"…Alright," he said finally.
"Don't overwork yourself."
I nodded.
"Okay."
From the side—
I could feel it.
That silence.
That distance.
I didn't look.
I already knew—
Sihoon hadn't said anything.
Not even once.
And somehow—
that hurt more than words.
I focused on my food again.
"…It's fine," I told myself.
But the thought didn't feel convincing anymore.
The match ended with loud cheers.
Yian stretched his arms.
"Ah… I'm tired," he muttered.
Sihoon stood nearby.
Quiet.
For a moment—
they said nothing.
Then Yian glanced at him.
"…Can I ask you something?"
Sihoon didn't look at him.
"Go ahead."
Yian hesitated—
then said it anyway.
"…Why are you ignoring Jia?"
That made Sihoon pause.
He didn't answer immediately.
Then slowly—
he looked at Yian.
"…I'm not ignoring her."
"You are," Yian said simply.
Silence.
Sihoon looked away.
His expression tightened slightly.
"…She likes Jiwoo."
The words came out low.
Yian blinked.
"…What?"
He let out a small, confused laugh.
"Wait—what are you saying?"
He stepped closer.
"Jiwoo just left," Yian said.
"And even before that—"
He stopped.
Looking at Sihoon carefully now.
"…Did you see something?"
Sihoon didn't answer.
But his silence—
was enough.
Yian sighed quietly.
"…You misunderstood."
Sihoon's eyes flickered slightly.
"I saw it," he said.
His voice was calm—
but heavier than before.
"He confessed."
A pause.
"And she didn't push him away."
Yian froze for a second.
Then shook his head.
"That doesn't mean she accepted him."
Sihoon didn't respond.
Yian frowned slightly.
"You didn't even ask her, did you?"
Silence again.
And that silence—
was the answer.
Yian let out a small breath.
"…You know," he said, a little more quietly this time,
"I saw her today."
Sihoon didn't look at him.
"She tried to talk to you," Yian continued.
"And when you ignored her…"
He paused.
"…she looked sad."
Silence.
"She didn't say anything," Yian added.
"But you could tell."
For a moment—
even the noise from the court felt distant.
Yian glanced at him.
"…I think she has feelings for you."
Sihoon's hand tightened slightly at his side.
But he didn't respond.
Yian didn't push anymore.
"…Just think about it," he said.
Then he turned and walked away.
Sihoon stood there alone.
The cheers, the voices, the sound of the ball—
everything continued around him.
But none of it reached him.
"…Sad," he repeated quietly.
The word felt unfamiliar.
And yet—
it stayed.