The sky was still orange when Bomi walked home that afternoon.
Her steps were slow—like someone carrying too many thoughts at once.
Behind her, Hanz walked at his usual pace, keeping a safe distance. Not too close. Not too far.
They had technically parted ways at the school gate, but their routes home happened to be the same.
Bomi checked her phone several times, typing something only to delete it again.
She wanted to talk to Hanz… but she was afraid of bothering him.
Meanwhile, Hanz walked quietly with his hands in his pockets.
After the incident in the library (Chapter 6), something in the air between them had shifted.
Not awkward.
Not strange.
More like… connected, but still unspoken.
✦ ✦ ✦
That night, Bomi couldn't sleep.
Her friends' harsh comments echoed in her head over and over.
"Why are you hanging around Hanz? That's so weird."
"If you wanted attention, just say it."
"He's that strange kid. Don't get too close."
Bomi clenched her fists under her blanket.
She had always been the type to endure quietly.
To smile.
To say "it's fine," even when it wasn't.
Finally, she typed a message:
Can we talk tomorrow…? I need to tell you something.
Hanz read it late at night, then replied simply:
Tomorrow. School rooftop. After class.
✦ ✦ ✦
The next day after school, Bomi was already there—standing near the railing as the wind brushed her hair gently.
Her eyes looked tired, not from crying, but from holding too much inside.
When Hanz arrived, he immediately sensed something was wrong.
"What is it?" he asked flatly, though his eyes held concern.
Bomi took a shaky breath.
"I… I don't think I can handle this anymore."
"What do you mean?"
She clenched the hem of her skirt, her voice small.
"My friends… the rumors… the pressure to always act perfect… I…"
A bitter smile formed.
"I'm the popular girl, but it feels like nobody actually knows me."
Silence.
Hanz didn't interrupt.
And maybe that was why Bomi kept speaking, her voice trembling.
"I know you don't like getting close to people."
Her tone softened.
"But… I need you."
Hanz froze.
"I need someone I can trust. At least until I can stand on my own again."
The words weren't dramatic.
They were quiet—but heavy.
Hanz stared at her, longer than he meant to.
"…Alright," he said quietly. "I'll listen."
So Bomi told him.
Everything.
About the pressure.
The loneliness.
The fear of disappointing everyone.
And in the end, she whispered:
"Of all people… the only one I could think of asking was you."
For the first time, Hanz felt something unfamiliar tug at his chest.
"…I'll think about it," he finally said.
That alone made Bomi smile weakly.