The fall semester has just begun.

University roads buzzed with energy, campus halls alive with the rush of footsteps, chatter, and the occasional nervous laugh. Dormitories brimmed with cardboard boxes, new friendships, and tearful goodbyes. Classrooms opened their doors once more, welcoming a mix of wide-eyed newcomers and seasoned students who carried the weight of time on their shoulders.

For some, this was a long-awaited beginning, the thrill of their university journey finally coming to life. For others, it marked the final stretch of a chapter they weren't ready to close. So many emotions blended into the air, but still, the environment pulsed with a cheerful kind of chaos.

Amid the crowd, two students sat on a quiet bench just outside the main dormitory wing—Mirae, clutching her phone like a lifeline, and Ray, watching her with furrowed brows.

"Mirae, are you sure you don't want to live here? You've been dreaming about this for years."

She didn't meet his eyes. "You know me, Ray. I can't afford this right now. I need to save up. I've dreamed about it, yeah... but I can wait. Maybe I'll try finding someone to share with."

"You could come live with me," he offered gently. "Couldn't you?"

"Ray... It's fine."

"Just until you find something else. I won't pressure you. We've still got a month to confirm everything. There's time."

"You don't have to worry about me."

"You never leave me a chance not to worry," he said, voice tight. "You're so stubborn. I try to be there, and you just push me away—like I'm nothing to you. I'm willing to be someone for you, Mirae. But you keep brushing me off."

She paused, biting the inside of her cheek. "It's not about you. I just don't want to owe anything to people."

"I'm not people. I'm me."

The noise of the campus faded around them

for a moment—just the two of them, sitting in the middle of a new beginning, both unsure of what came next.

"I'm not trying to fix your life," Ray said quietly. "I just want you to let me in. Please?"

She gave the smallest nod.

"I'm sorry. It's not that I don't care about you. I don't know what to do."

"I understand you. Please don't worry. I'm still here, just remember that."

"Okay," Mirae said at last, her voice low and certain. "I'll stay. Just until I figure something out."

Ray looked at her, surprised but trying not to make it a big deal. "Alright. Good. We'll make it work."

She gave him a side glance. "You better not start acting weird about it."

He smirked. "Define 'weird.'"

She rolled her eyes. "Exactly."

They fell into step as they crossed the main quad, the late morning sun filtering through trees just starting to shift into autumn. Students wove past them in every direction, but their pace stayed easy, comfortable.

They didn't need to fill every silence. Some things between them were just understood.

Their bags thumped lightly against their backs as they climbed the steps toward the computer science building.

"I still hate that we got scheduled for an 8 a.m. lecture," Mirae muttered.

"You chose this major, too," Ray teased. "Can't blame the system now."

"I can and I will."

He laughed under his breath, nudging her arm with his elbow before they pushed through the lecture hall doors. They slid into their usual spots near the back—two seats slightly off-center, half-shielded from the front row energy but close enough to stay in the loop.

Laptops open. Notes ready. The screen flickered to life as the professor began speaking.

Ray leaned over slightly. "We got this."

Mirae didn't look at him, but her voice was calm. "Yeah. We do."

In a room full of strangers, noise, and motion, they were steady.

Not loud. Not obvious.

The lecture ended in a blur of clicking laptops and the rustle of notebooks. Mirae swung her bag over her shoulder, already halfway to the door as Ray caught up beside her.

"Coffee?" he asked casually.

"If you're paying," she replied without looking.

Ray smirked. "As always."

They made their way down the wide steps outside the comp-sci building, their pace in sync without trying. The sunlight poured through the trees, warming the pavement and glinting off scattered bike racks. Campus was alive—people laughing, shouting across lawns, music floating in the air.

"Hey—uh, sorry, excuse me?"

They both turned.

A guy in a hoodie stood awkwardly behind them, clutching a phone like it was a shield. He looked straight at Mirae, eyes flicking nervously to Ray.

"I was just wondering if you—uh, wanted to grab coffee sometime?" he asked, voice shaky but hopeful.

Ray stepped in before Mirae could even open her mouth, casually sliding an arm around her shoulder. His tone was light, but his gaze was sharp.

"She's got a full plate this week," he said, calm but firm. "Not really the best time."

The guy hesitated, visibly thrown off. "Oh. Uh—yeah, no worries. Totally. Sorry."

He backed away with an awkward laugh, disappearing into the crowd almost immediately.

Ray dropped his arm like it was nothing. "You're welcome."

Mirae gave him a long look. "Smooth."

"I've had practice," he said, brushing invisible dust off his sleeve. "Besides, that one was way too shaky. You'd have eaten him alive."

She snorted. "Not wrong."

They passed the student center, a line of colorful flyers fluttering on the wall. Mirae

paused at one, her eyes narrowing.

"Mandatory Club Sign-Ups for First Years — Deadline: Friday."

"You've got to be kidding me," she muttered.

Ray peered over her shoulder. "Rules are rules, freshie."

"I swear if you say that again, I'm switching majors."

"Please. You'd die without me in Data Structures."

They stood side by side, scanning the list together. A few students walking past glanced at them—how close they stood, how easily they laughed. But neither Mirae nor Ray noticed.

They were too wrapped up in their world—unshakeable, untouchable.

Event Planning Club – Room 203, 3:15 PM

Mirae and Ray slipped into the room just

As the meeting began, they naturally drifted toward the back like gravity tethered them together. They didn't say much—but they didn't need to.

Ray leaned in slightly. "You sure you wanna do this?"

"No," Mirae murmured. "But we signed up, didn't we?"

He smirked. "I signed us up."

"And I still haven't forgiven you."

Despite the low exchange, they moved like a unit. Silent understanding, casual glances, a rhythm only they knew. People noticed.

Whispers had already started before the meeting began. Are they dating? They're always together. They don't talk to anyone else. Have you seen them alone?

But Mirae and Ray didn't hear it. Or if they did, they didn't care.

They sat. Close. Comfortable.

The clipboard girl up front clapped her hands to get attention. "Welcome, first-years! This club plans the biggest events of the year—Freshers' Night, the mid-Sem gala, and the Spring Showcase. Lucky you."

Ray leaned toward Mirae again. "Still time to escape."

Mirae smiled, barely. "And give them something to gossip about?"

"They already are."

Before Mirae could answer, the room shifted.

Two upperclassmen entered through the side—one calm and crisp, wearing black and silence like armor; the other, more relaxed, with sleeves rolled and a presence that made people lean in unconsciously.

Noah and Ren.

Even before their names were whispered across the room, it was obvious. They were those seniors. The ones students admired, envied, and didn't dare approach without a script.

Mirae's eyes flicked up once. Ray noticed, but didn't comment. The clipboard girl practically bounced as she addressed them.

"Noah and Ren—thank you for joining! Our senior leads this semester, everyone."

No one clapped, too busy watching.

Ren gave a casual nod, hands in his pockets. Noah didn't even pretend to smile. They didn't glance at the new students. Didn't need to.

Ray's voice was low. "Popular crowd."

Mirae shrugged. "They don't look that interesting."

Ray looked at her. "You're more interesting."

She met his eyes with a small smirk. "Obviously."

The rest of the meeting blurred by in logistics and assignments.

Mirae and Ray were assigned to the Theme & Visuals team—quietly noted to be under Noah. But they weren't introduced yet. That would come later.

After the meeting, students approached. Some tried talking to Ray, others to Mirae—asking casual things like major, dorm, "are you two...?"

Ray was polite, distant. Mirae didn't even pretend.

They left the room side by side, talking only to each other.

Behind them, the seniors watched—if only briefly.

Campus Grounds – Golden Hour

The campus glowed under the amber tint of the setting sun. Students trickled out of buildings in groups, laughter floating between the trees. The energy buzzed—

new classes, new clubs, fresh impressions.

Mirae and Ray strolled in tandem down the main pathway, their steps naturally aligned. Ray had one hand tucked in his jacket pocket, the other lazily swinging a cup of iced tea. Mirae kept close, arms crossed, sharp eyes glancing around like she was constantly observing the world but only halfway in it.

"You're quieter than usual," Ray said.

Mirae shrugged. "Not in the mood to be around too many people."

"Then good thing it's just me."

She looked up at him. "It's always just you."

Ray grinned. "You say that like it's a problem."

From beneath the tall archway leading toward the student center, two figures watched—Noah, stiff and unreadable, and Ren, more relaxed, hands in his pockets.

Their presence didn't demand attention; it absorbed it. No need for words. Everyone around instinctively knew who they were.

Ren's gaze followed the two first-years. He wasn't staring—at least not in a way most would notice. Just... watching.

"They're everywhere," Noah said, flipping through a thin folder. "People are already talking."

Ren didn't answer. His eyes remained on Ray—how he walked slightly closer to Mirae, how he leaned in when he talked, how he smiled only with his eyes.

"Wonder if she knows the effect she has," Noah muttered.

Ren tilted his head slightly. "Maybe."

Library Lawn – An Hour Later

The sky dulled into a soft gray, transforming the campus into a golden haze, making it feel calmer. Mirae and Ray had moved to the library lawn, claiming their usual spot beneath the leafless cherry tree.

Ray stretched out on the grass, eyes squinting up toward the clouds. Mirae leaned against the trunk beside him, flipping through her notes, half-distracted.

"I think I'm skipping dinner."

"You always say that before ordering ramen," Ray replied, arms behind his head.

"I mean it this time."

"Mm-hm."

She nudged him with her foot. He caught it lightly, grinning.

"You're annoying," she said.

"You're welcome."

Across the path, Ren stood alone now. His clubmates had moved on, but he hadn't. From where he was, he could see them clearly—Mirae's quiet stillness, Ray's untamed ease. People mistook that stillness for coldness. They mistook Ray's ease for flirtation.

Mirae is grateful to have Ray in her life.

The way he always knew what Mirae was thinking. The way he listened—not just to her words, but her silences.

"Cute girl," someone said nearby.

Ren didn't look. "Yeah," he answered absently.

Club Orientation Day – Auditorium

The auditorium was a flurry of movement—first-years shuffled from table to table, voices tangled in an indistinct hum. Club leaders barked instructions, upperclassmen hovered with clipboards, and everything felt too loud, too rushed.

Ray and Mirae stood side by side near the back, as if the noise couldn't touch them there. He stood with his hands in his pockets, watching her the way someone might watch for a storm—quietly, knowing it was always coming but still never quite ready.

Mirae exhaled softly. "If we get separated, you're not allowed to make that pouty face."

"I don't pout."

"You do. It's your default when I'm not around."

He smirked, just a little. "Then don't leave."

"Not in my control, genius."

And it wasn't. Seconds later, the coordinators began calling names.

"Mirae Yun. Group Two. Logistics. Noah, a third-year senior, will brief you."

Mirae stiffened slightly. Ray didn't miss it.

He turned toward the staff table. "Wait, is there a—"

"Ray Han," the voice cut him off. "Group Three. Event Setup. Under Ren."

Mirae gave a short, knowing sigh. "Figures."

Ray looked at her, expression unreadable. "You, okay?"

"Ray."

"I'm serious."

"I'll live," she said, but her voice was too soft for the noise around them.

He hesitated, watching her retreat as she moved toward her assigned team. The instant she was a few steps away, his head turned automatically, eyes following her like muscle memory. He didn't even try to hide it.

Across the room, Ren leaned casually near a side wall, arms folded, eyes flicking lazily between students. But as Mirae passed through the crowd, his gaze stilled—watching her.

She moved like someone who didn't care who was watching—but still always drew eyes.

Ray was still looking.

"Your group's this way," a smooth voice said beside him.

Ray turned, surprised to find Ren beside him now, clipboard in hand, watching him with a half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"You're with me."

Ray gave a reluctant nod, but as they walked, he kept glancing back—always toward Mirae.

Ren noticed.

He didn't say anything. But there was the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips.

"Is she your girlfriend or your shadow?" Ren asked offhandedly, voice low enough to sound casual.

Ray didn't answer, but his jaw ticked.

Ren looked away, chuckling under his breath. "Guess I'll find out eventually."

And like that, he turned and walked ahead,

leaving Ray to follow.

From across the room, Mirae paused for a moment too long as Noah explained something. Her eyes scanned the crowd—not obviously, not intentionally—but still, they found Ray.

Just once.

Then she looked away.

Orientation Hall – Late Afternoon

The energy in the hall had shifted. Group activities were underway—loud music, folding tables, stacks of flyers, and cardboard displays being rushed into place. The chaos was layered and sharp.

Mirae stood near the logistics booth, her hair tied up hastily, sleeves rolled as she carried a stack of folded banners. Noah, the senior leading her team, barely spoke—just nodded in approval occasionally. He seemed more curious than commanding.

Ray was across the hall, eyes trailing Mirae every few seconds despite Ren handing him a heavy crate and rattling off instructions.

"You've looked back at her five times in one minute," Ren said quietly, without glancing up.

Ray didn't respond.

"She'll be fine," Ren added. "She looks like she's bitten people before."

Ray managed a dry smile. "She has."

Suddenly—a slip.

Mirae, stepping back with her arms full, didn't see the coiled mic wire behind her. Her heel caught. The stack in her hands tilted. She stumbled—too quick, no time to recover.

But there was a blur before the fall.

Ray—crashing past a table and skidding in without thought—arms around her before she could even gasp. The banners scattered, forgotten. All noise in the room seemed to pause, stunned by the movement.

Ray's body shielded hers, his hands steadying her by the waist, forehead almost touching hers. His breath was fast, her eyes wide.

"You, okay?" he breathed.

Mirae blinked. "I didn't see it..."

"I did."

They stayed like that for a beat too long. Not touching beyond what was necessary—but close enough for the air between them to crackle.

The room around them exhaled. A few whispers. A girl near the booth whispered, "That's lovely right there."

"God, they're like... inseparable," someone else added.

Noah watched with mild interest. Ren stood

farther back, unreadable—but his gaze didn't leave Ray.

Ray finally let go and took a half step back. Mirae straightened her shoulders, brushing dust from her skirt like nothing happened.

"You didn't have to jump like a hero," she mumbled.

"You were falling," he said. "What was I supposed to do, let you faceplant?"

Mirae avoided his eyes. "Still. Don't make a scene."

Ray shrugged. "Then stop making me worry."

He turned to walk back to his team, but not before glancing one last time to make sure she was steady.

Mirae watched him go, face unreadable—but her fingers had curled slightly into her palm.

Later That Evening – Campus Courtyard

Evening settled like watercolor across the sky—muted purples, soft golds, and fading warmth. The hum of orientation day still echoed faintly through the campus, but the crowds had thinned, giving way to smaller, quieter clusters of students.

Ray stood alone near the vending machine, two bubble teas in hand. He didn't even glance at the drinks—his eyes were locked across the plaza.

There she was.

Mirae emerged from the activity hall, a bit disheveled but composed as ever. Sleeves pushed up, strands of hair escaping her messy ponytail, and that usual unreadable look in her eyes. A pen was still tucked behind her ear.

She scanned the area—and spotted him. No smile. No wave. Just... made her way toward him, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Ray met her halfway, holding out one of the drinks.

"You drank mine again," she said, arching a brow.

"Safety check. Someone has to make sure you're not poisoned."

"I should be charging you for being this dramatic."

"You'd be broke. I'm priceless."

Without a word, she took the drink and made a beeline for the tree near the courtyard's edge, settling into the grass with ease. Ray dropped down beside her, close—close enough that their arms touched for a heartbeat.

"I saw you sketching during the club talk," he said, peering over. "Were you drawing me again?"

Mirae didn't answer. Instead, she flipped her sketchpad and passed it to him silently.

On the corner of a half-drawn scene—students, banners, the club stage—was a quick, sharply detailed sketch of Ray. Mid-laugh. His head tilted slightly, expression caught in a moment he didn't know she'd seen.

He blinked. "You drew me."

"I draw interesting faces."

He smirked. "You think I'm interesting?"

"I think you talk too much. Keeps your face moving."

Ray leaned sideways until his head rested lightly against her shoulder. Mirae didn't flinch, didn't shove him off.

"You're warm," he said softly.

"You're heavy."

"You didn't push me off."

"You didn't spill my tea."

A beat passed. Then another.

From across the courtyard, a few upperclassmen walking by slowed down. A couple of first-years at the vending machine tilted their heads, whispering as they pointed—pretending not to stare.

"I swear they're dating."

"Look at him leaning on her."

"She's drawing him?"

"They're like... obsessed with each other."

"They have to be together."

Ray caught a few of the looks and didn't bother hiding his grin. "We're causing a scene again."

"We're sitting under a tree," Mirae said.

"You're drawing me like one of your French boys."

"I'm ignoring you."

He nudged her gently.

She didn't answer immediately. Just kept shading the curve of a sleeve in her sketch.

Ray tilted his head up to look at her.

Mirae glanced at him sideways, lips barely twitching.

And yet, she didn't move his head off her shoulder.

And Ray didn't move away.

From the outside, it looked like love.

From the inside... maybe it was something more complicated than that.

The Next Morning – Outside Computer Science 101

Campus mornings had their rhythm—bike wheels spinning on dewy pavement, vending machines humming, and students pretending they weren't late.

But this morning buzzed with more than just caffeine. It carried whispers, giggles, and poorly disguised stares.

Mirae kept her hood up and headphones in, cutting through the noise like she didn't hear any of it.

She heard everything.

"Main characters for real."

"They were under the tree. Like a scene."

"She drew him."

"He leaned on her."

"Must be nice..."

She hadn't checked the posts, but Yoi had sent one to her phone anyway. A candid photo from last night—Ray leaning on her shoulder, both of them smiling faintly like the world wasn't watching.

Too close to be "just friends," the caption read.

Mirae didn't open it.

Yoi caught up with her at the steps to their lecture building, hair half-braided, tote bag slung across her chest, holding a paper coffee cup from the art building café.

She studied Liberal Arts but always found her way to the STEM side. Mirae never questioned it.

"Miss Mirae Future-Love-Interest, good morning."

"Yoi, don't start."

"I've been waiting for this moment. All those years of watching you push people away—then bam, our girl gets shoulder-cuddled by the campus favorite."

Mirae sighed. "It wasn't like that."

"Right. You draw everyone's faces like that. With soft shading and sketchbook affection."

"I was practicing expressions."

Yoi raised an eyebrow. "And let him nap on your shoulder because...?"

"He was tired."

"Mirae."

Silence.

Yoi smiled, but her voice softened. "Look, I'm not teasing to be mean. I just think maybe you're not as unaffected as you pretend."

Mirae gripped the strap of her bag tighter.

"That's the problem."

Yoi blinked. "Problem?"

Before Mirae could answer, her eyes flicked ahead—Ray, walking toward them like he belonged at the center of every hallway. He was in his usual loose shirt and lazy confidence, holding two coffees.

One was always hers.

"Oii Yoii.. stealing my girl?"

"This one's mine, though," Yoi smirked.

"Liberal Arts is still corrupting your brain, huh, Yoi?" he said, offering Mirae the drink without missing a beat.

"She could do worse than us tech nerds," Mirae replied.

Ray turned to Mirae. "Black, no sugar, extra shot. Told you I remember."

Mirae accepted the cup, their fingers brushing just long enough to freeze her breath. "I didn't ask."

"You never do."

Yoi stepped back a little, watching them like an audience member unwilling to miss a single line. "You two realize you've gone viral, right?"

Ray sipped his drink, unconcerned. "Good lighting under that tree."

"Better chemistry," Yoi quipped.

Mirae didn't respond. She was still replaying last night—not the crowd, not the whispers—but the way he had leaned on her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And the way she'd let him.

She should've pushed him off. She normally would've.

But she hadn't.

"Class is starting," Mirae said, her voice steadier than she felt.

Yoi gave her a knowing look. "Right. Go sit next to your definitely-not-boyfriend."

Ray held the door for them both. "You jealous?"

"Of her? No. Of you? Maybe." Yoi smirked as she walked away down the hall to her building.

Mirae rolled her eyes but smiled faintly. Ray caught it.

They walked into the lecture hall—shoulder to shoulder, coffee in hand, like two people who belonged.

And maybe, just maybe, they did.

Computer Science 101 – Lecture Hall

The classroom wasn't anything special—rows of tired desks, buzzing projector, and whiteboards that looked like they'd seen decades of equations.

But when Mirae and Ray walked in together, it might as well have been a stage.

Eyes turned. Whispers began again, low and obvious.

"They're here."

"Look at how he looks at her."

"She didn't even smile like that with anyone else."

"Honestly, they're couple goals."

Mirae didn't flinch this time. She simply slid into her seat near the window, the one she always chose, and pulled her tablet from her bag.

Ray dropped into the seat beside her—like it was his.

No words exchanged, just that comfortable silence between people who didn't need to try.

But under the calm... it was different today.

Ray leaned in, just enough to bump her arm. "You okay?"

Mirae didn't look at him. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You didn't finish your drink earlier."

She paused, fingers still on the stylus. "...Wasn't thirsty."

Ray gave a quiet huff of breath. Not quite a laugh, not quite frustration. "You've been sketching circles for the past five minutes."

She finally turned to him. His gaze held hers—soft, curious, just a little concerned.

Too concerned.

That's the thing about Ray. He noticed the smallest things. She wasn't used to that.

And that's what scared her most.

Before she could deflect again, the door at the back creaked open.

Heads turned.

Ren.

One of the most well-known Business major third years on campus. People whispered about him like he was carved from marble and wrapped in elegance. Tall, sharp-jawed, always in black—like he knew he didn't need color to be noticed. But why is he here?

He walked down the steps with a casual grace and sat toward the back,

headphones half-on, not even pretending to care about the curious glances.

But his eyes? They flicked once.

Toward Mirae.

Then Ray.

And lingered.

Just long enough to smirk.

Ray caught it. His expression didn't change, but his posture did—leaning subtly closer to Mirae, one arm draped lazily behind her seat.

He didn't know why Ren had looked at them like that.

But something about it made his chest twist.

Mirae raised a brow.

He shrugged, looked away, hiding the stupid grin threatening his face.

The professor finally arrived, and the lights dimmed for the slideshow. The lecture began.

But neither of them heard a word.

Back Row – Ren's Perspective

He watched the two silhouettes at the front row—how close they sat, how Mirae's shoulder barely leaned toward Ray when she laughed softly, how Ray kept glancing sideways even while pretending to take notes.

Ren tapped a pen idly against his knee, his smirk growing.

Everyone thought they were a couple.

Everyone wanted them to be a couple.

Which made this... more entertaining.

Classroom – Mid-lecture

The professor's voice droned in the background, words blending into static as Mirae tapped her stylus distractedly against her screen. Ray, beside her, was leaning back with one leg casually crossed over the other, gaze forward—but his mind elsewhere.

He stole a glance at her.

Her brows were furrowed again.

Not angry. Just... overthinking. Again.

He tilted his head slightly. "Stop thinking so loud."

Mirae looked at him, caught off guard. "What?"

"You're drawing the same flower for the fourth time."

She looked down. The petals were messy,

a little darker than usual. Her lips pressed into a flat line.

"Didn't know you counted."

"I always count," he murmured, softer now.

Mirae glanced sideways at him—longer this time. She didn't smile. But her eyes lingered.

From the back row, Ren leaned forward slightly, resting an elbow on the desk. His gaze flicked between them. The tilt of Ray's body. The soft edges in Mirae's expression. The way their words were too quiet for anyone else to hear.

It was subtle.

But Ren didn't miss subtleties.

The corner of his mouth lifted.

Lovers, huh? he thought lazily, though something about that didn't sit quite right.

Break Time – Just Outside the Lecture Hall

The hallway buzzed with students pouring out, chatting, laughing, rushing to vending machines or next classes.

Ray stayed behind Mirae like always, like a quiet shadow. His presence wasn't loud, but somehow constant—like the space beside her always belonged to him.

Ren stepped out a moment later, phone in hand, half-pretending to text.

Mirae turned toward Ray. "We've got club activities after next class, right?"

Ray nodded. "Yeah. Planning committee thing."

She groaned. "That's not fair. We got roped into that."

"You got roped in. I volunteered."

She blinked. "You what?"

Ray shrugged. "Someone has to keep you from getting kidnapped by paperwork."

Mirae rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth tugged upward.

Behind them, Ren watched it all—the way she smiled differently at Ray, like the world melted a little. And the way Ray looked at her, almost unaware that his gaze was softer than usual.

"Cute," Ren muttered, barely audible.

Mirae caught the word. She turned slightly.

"You said something?"

Ren slid his phone into his pocket. "Nothing at all. Just admiring the school's best couple in action."

Mirae's face didn't change.

Ray, however, took a step forward—just slightly closer, unintentionally blocking Mirae with his shoulder.

"You good?" he asked her, without breaking eye contact with Ren.

Mirae touched Ray's wrist gently, a silent signal. "Let's go. We'll be late."

They walked off, side by side again. But this time, something hung in the air between them—something unspoken.

Ray's hand brushed against hers once.

She didn't pull away.

After Class – Club Hallway

The club list had finally gone up. Fresh assignments for the semester, each pair marked clearly. Mirae leaned in to read, Ray just a step behind her, his eyes scanning faster.

Silence.

Ray felt the grip in his chest before he could even name it.

Mirae tilted her head. "Huh. Noah?"

Ray didn't say anything. Not at first. But she could sense the subtle shift in him—his shoulders stiffer, voice quieter.

Noah walked up beside them, calm and confident. "Looks like we're partners, Mirae."

She gave him a polite nod. "Seems like it."

Ray finally spoke, his voice smooth but clipped. "What's the task?"

"Booth coordination for the inter-department fest," Ren chimed in from behind, clearly enjoying himself. "And guess what? Separate locations. Different timings. All week."

Ray turned slightly, jaw tightening. "Great planning."

Ren grinned. "I try my best."

There was a beat of silence. Mirae looked between the names again. "It's just a week," she said to no one in particular. Maybe to herself. Maybe to Ray.

Ray didn't answer. Instead, he turned to her and gently pulled her aside, out of earshot.

"You sure you're okay with this?"

She gave him a small smile. "You think I'll get lost without you?"

He didn't smile back. "Not lost. Just... I don't like it-"

She blinked. Her voice dropped. "Ray..."

He exhaled, frustrated. "Forget it. Just... don't skip your breaks. Text me."

She studied him for a long moment, lips parted like she wanted to say more—but the moment passed.

From a distance, Ren leaned against the wall, arms folded. Watching. Waiting.

Then came the jab. "She's not yours to worry over, you know."

Ray turned slowly. "You want to test that theory?"

Ren raised his brows, amused.

But before anything could stir further, Mirae called softly, "Ray."

His gaze snapped back to her. She looked calm, but her eyes held that quiet ache he knew too well.

"You'll be okay, right?"

He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'll manage."

Later That Day – Club Activity Zones

The open courtyard had transformed into chaos. Teams working everywhere, laughter and commotion, distant music playing from someone's speaker.

Mirae sat on the bench with her sketchpad, going over design ideas for the booth. Noah leaned beside her, close but not invasive.

"You draw fast."

"Years of practice," she replied lightly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"Must be nice," Noah murmured. "Having someone always watching your back."

She glanced at him, surprised by the shift in tone.

"I mean, Ray," he added casually. "He watches you like you're glass."

Mirae smiled faintly. "He always does."

"Not scared he'll shatter you by mistake?"

She turned back to her sketch. "He won't."

Across the courtyard, Ray stood with his team, eyes darting in her direction more times than he realized. His fists clenched loosely at his sides.

She was laughing at something Noah said. Not loud. But enough.

Enough to make his chest feel too tight.

Evening – University Commons

The sky had softened to dusky purple, the streetlamps flickering on one by one. Students still lingered around the benches, some laughing over takeout, others hunched over laptops. It was that hour between chaos and calm.

Ray sat at one of the stone ledges, a half-finished drink beside him, headphones around his neck, though nothing played. He wasn't looking for her—but he was always aware of her.

And then—

Footsteps.

He looked up just as Mirae walked into view, tote bag slipping off her shoulder, her fingers brushing hair from her cheek.

Their eyes met. Pause.

No words at first.

"You done for the day?" Ray asked, his voice soft.

Mirae nodded, adjusting the strap on her bag. "Noah walked with me halfway. He left for the library."

Ray didn't reply. Just looked down at his drink, then back at her. "You look tired."

She offered a small smile. "I am. These people are not easy to work with."

"You handled them."

"Barely."

There was a silence, but not an awkward one. Just heavy.

She stepped closer, then sat beside him on the ledge. "You didn't text me today."

"I didn't want to bother you."

"You never bother me."

He turned to her, surprised by the way she said it.

Her hand brushed the edge of his hoodie sleeve. "Ray..."

"Yeah?"

Mirae paused, eyes distant, gave a soft laugh, almost shaky. "You're not gonna say I'm being dramatic?"

"You're not."

His shoulder gently bumped hers. She didn't move away. If anything, she leaned in, just slightly.

Ray didn't move.

Didn't speak.

Just gently tilted his head, so his cheek touched the top of her hair.

From across the courtyard, Ren, exiting the library, saw them together again.

He exhaled a slow breath, the beginnings of a smirk on his face.

"Untouchable," he murmured. "Let's see how long that lasts."

Two Nights Later – Club Booth Prep (Late Evening)

The student center buzzed even at this hour, a strange mixture of exhaustion and energy. Half-finished banners lay across tables, cardboard signs leaned against chairs, and a giant thermos of watered-down coffee stood as the team's only fuel.

Mirae tucked her sleeves up, holding one end of the booth's banner while Noah adjusted the stand on the opposite side. Her hair was tied up messily, strands falling over her cheek.

"You've got paint on your nose," Noah said, his voice unusually soft for someone known for being the calmest in the room.

Mirae blinked. "Where?"

"Here," he said, stepping closer—his thumb brushing near her nose, pausing deliberately longer than necessary.

Mirae's hand instinctively came up to stop him. But she didn't pull away fast enough.

Just outside the prep hall, Ray stood with his team—technically on break, practically frozen in place. His jaw clenched. His hands curled in his jacket pockets.

He saw it.

The way Noah stood was just a little too close. The way Mirae lowered her gaze, unsure of what to do with the tension suddenly in the air. The way her lips parted, about to say something—but didn't.

Ray looked away.

"Something wrong?" a voice asked behind him.

It was Ren, casually sipping from a bottle of cola, leaning against a table like he'd been watching the whole thing unfold.

Ray didn't answer.

Ren's grin was lazy. "You look like someone just stole your favorite toy."

Ray didn't rise to it. "It's not like that. And she's not a toy!!"

"Mm," Ren hummed, unconvinced. "Funny. You hover around her like she's air and you're drowning. Kind of hard to miss."

Ray finally looked at him, expression cool. "And you watch me like I'm about to fall."

Ren leaned in, just a little. "Maybe I'm curious what happens when you do."

Before either of them could speak again, Mirae called from inside. "Ray?"

He turned instantly, walking back into the room without another word.

Mirae was holding the last banner sketch. "Can you help me adjust the side? Noah's handling something else."

Ray took the board from her silently. Their hands brushed—hers cold, his warm.

"You okay?" she asked softly, reading him better than anyone else could.

He nodded, but she didn't look convinced.

From across the room, Noah's eyes followed them briefly, then turned away—busy with final touches. But not unaware.

Ren, still outside, exhaled a sharp laugh under his breath.

"Everyone's pretending not to feel. How exhausting."

Later That Night – Walk Back to Dorms

The prep work had finally ended. The halls were mostly empty now, lights dimmed to half-brightness. Mirae walked beside Ray, a quiet rhythm in their footsteps.

She clutched the rolled-up banner in one hand, a tired yawn escaping her lips. "I thought I was used to late nights."

Ray adjusted his hoodie and looked over at her. "You look like you're about to collapse."

"You should see yourself," she shot back, grinning. "You look like you haven't blinked in hours."

Ray shrugged. "Kept watching to make sure you didn't trip over your own feet."

She chuckled, bumping his shoulder lightly. "You're ridiculous."

He smiled at that, just a little. But his gaze lingered on her—long enough that she noticed.

"What?" she asked, blinking.

"Nothing." Ray looked ahead again. "Just... don't get too close to Noah."

Mirae slowed her steps. "Are we really doing this?"

"I'm just saying. He's... hard to read."

"So you are," she said quietly.

Ray stopped. Turned to her.

There it was again—that small flicker. That pause between them, that always felt like something left unsaid. But neither reached for it.

Instead, he ruffled her hair like he always did, but softer this time. His fingers brushed a little longer.

"I'm serious," he muttered. "You get weird when I'm not around."

She raised an eyebrow. "Weird?"

He smirked. "Like you forget I exist."

"I never forget you exist," she said, almost too quickly.

They both stood there for a moment, the streetlight casting soft shadows over them.

Before anything else could be said, footsteps approached.

Ren.

Hands in his pockets. Head tilted slightly.

"Long night?" he asked, eyes flicking between the two of them.

Ray stiffened, but Mirae nodded. "The worst."

Ren's gaze settled on Ray. "Don't forget tomorrow's call time. I'd hate to see you miss it."

Ray's jaw tightened. "I won't."

Ren offered a low hum and walked past them. But not before his shoulder lightly brushed Ray's—intentional. Calm. Challenging.

Ray didn't move. But Mirae noticed the sharp inhale he took right after.

She looked at him, concerned. "You okay?"

He turned to her with a half-smile. "I'm always okay."

And yet, as they walked the rest of the way, the space between them wasn't wide—but it wasn't quite close either.

Just enough to make anyone watching think something was going on.

Next Day – Club Room, Late Afternoon

The club room buzzed with soft chatter and rustling papers. Posters half-hung, wires tangled near speakers, and the faint smell of marker ink hung in the air. It was

planning day—and seniors took the lead.

Ren and Noah stood near the window, flipping through the event schedule. Noah glanced at the list, his finger tracing names.

"Freshmen get paired with seniors today," he said, mildly amused.

Ren raised a brow. "On purpose?"

"Club head thinks it'll 'build rapport.'" He rolled his eyes. "Watch the chaos unfold."

At the far side of the room, Mirae walked in beside Ray, laughter echoing from something she said just before the door shut.

Ren's eyes flicked immediately to them.

They weren't touching. But they didn't need to. The way Mirae brushed Ray's arm when she leaned closer, the way Ray handed her a drink without her asking—it all looked practiced. Intimate. Familiar.

Noah followed Ren's line of sight. "They're always together, huh?"

Ren didn't respond.

The club lead began calling names. Pairs were being assigned for project planning.

"And—Mirae with Noah. Ray with Ren."

A subtle silence followed.

Mirae looked up at Ray, as if needing silent approval. Ray only gave a small nod, but his jaw was tight.

Noah stepped over smoothly. "Looks like we're partners." He smiled at Mirae, who returned it, cautiously.

Ray turned as Ren approached, leaning in just slightly.

"Don't worry," Ren murmured low enough that only Ray could hear, "I won't let her run away with him."

Ray stiffened. "That's not what I'm worried about."

"Oh?" Ren tilted his head, a glint in his eyes. "Then what are you worried about?"

Ray said nothing, but his gaze followed Mirae across the room like a shadow.

Meanwhile, Noah handed Mirae a sketchpad. "He always stares at you like that?"

She blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

Noah chuckled. "You didn't notice?"

"I guess I'm just... used to it," she said quietly.

From across the room, Ray's focus never wavered—even as Ren leaned a little too close beside him, just enough to stir something sharp in the air.

The room looked like a club prepping for an event.

But beneath the paper and plans, something much more tangled had begun.

Later That Evening – Club Studio Room

Most of the club had filtered out, but Mirae and Noah stayed behind to finish a few design drafts. The quiet hum of music played from someone's forgotten phone, bouncing gently off the windows.

Mirae leaned over the table, pencil tucked behind her ear as she sketched layout ideas. Noah sat across from her, arms folded, eyes calm but sharp.

"You're focused when you work," he said.

She looked up briefly, smiling. "And you talk a lot when you're bored."

"Maybe I'm not bored," he replied. "Maybe I'm trying to know you better."

Mirae paused, blinking slowly. "Why?"

Noah leaned forward, resting his chin on his palm. "You're interesting. Quietly fiery. And you always seem like your mind is somewhere else—except when he's around."

She hesitated. "He's... always been around."

"That's not an answer," he said gently.

She gave a soft chuckle, brushing her hair back. "Maybe I don't know the answer."

Noah nodded slowly, gaze unreadable. "Fair."

Meanwhile—

Down the Hall – Tech Storage Room

Ray was organizing the props Ren had dumped on him earlier, extra mics, a tripod with a broken leg. His mood was taut, movements faster than necessary.

Ren leaned casually against a shelf, tossing a rubber cable in his hand like it weighed nothing.

"You're not subtle, you know," Ren said suddenly.

Ray didn't look up. "Neither are you."

Ren smirked. "I've been watching you watch her. It's exhausting."

Ray stopped.

Ren took a step closer. "You act like you're not jealous. But then you hover like she's your shadow. You glare at Noah like you're ready to fight him. And then you turn around and act like she's 'just a friend.'"

Ray finally turned, eyes sharp. "She is my friend."

"Then relax," Ren said with a shrug, "and stop making it look like she's the only person in your universe."

Ray opened his mouth—but said nothing. Because maybe that was the problem.

Ren's tone dropped, softer now. "You're too afraid to want her. But also too afraid to lose her."

Their eyes locked.

Ray's chest rose and fell, controlled but tight.

Then a faint knock broke the moment. Mirae peeked in.

"There you are," she said, looking only at Ray. "You didn't text."

Ray moved instantly toward her, grabbing the bag near his feet. "Wasn't that long."

Ren watched them walk away, Mirae close to Ray's side again—just like always.

And the shadow of a smirk played at his lips.

Nightfall – Near Dormitory Bulletin Board

Mirae stood by the pinned-up announcements, scanning her phone and a small notepad. Notes on available shared spaces, dormitory lists, and campus rental options filled the pages. Her brows furrowed in concentration.

Ray leaned against the wall nearby, arms crossed, watching.

"You're really going through with this?" he asked.

She didn't look up. "I told you. I need something affordable. Sharing's the most practical option."

He frowned. "You could just stay with me until then."

"I don't want to be a burden, Ray."

"You're not," he said, stepping closer. "Not to me."

She finally looked up, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The glow from the hallway lights caught the edge of her expression—tired but determined.

"I just... need to figure things out on my own," she said. "Even if you're there, I don't want to forget how to stand alone."

Ray's voice dropped, quieter now. "You're not alone. I'm not asking you to rely on me for everything—just don't push me out like I don't matter."

"You matter," she said, and something in her voice almost cracked. "Too much sometimes."

Their eyes met, words tangling in the air, but unsaid.

From a short distance, a pair of footsteps echoed—Ren and Noah walking out from the club hallway, deep in casual conversation.

Ray noticed them instantly. His posture shifted, subtly—more guarded.

Ren caught sight of them. His gaze hovered for just a second longer than needed before turning away with a knowing smirk.

Noah's eyes flicked toward Mirae, curiosity lingering.

"You've got fans," Ray muttered under his breath.

Mirae raised a brow. "Jealous?"

Ray snorted. "You wish."

She laughed lightly and folded her notes. "Anyway, I'll go see two shared spaces tomorrow. One of them's with someone from Liberal Arts—Yoi recommended her."

"You sure it's safe?" Ray asked, already pulling out his phone. "Text me the address. I'll go with you."

Mirae opened her mouth to argue—then stopped. "Okay."

Ray blinked. "Wait, really?"

"I know you're gonna follow me anyway," she said, teasing. "Might as well make it official."

Ray smirked. "Glad you're finally catching on."

From a distance, Noah glanced back once more. Ren didn't even need to speak—his expression said it all: They're tangled. Deeply. And maybe they don't even know it yet.