The hallway behind the old school building was almost always empty.
That was where Bomi stopped that afternoon.
Hanz, walking behind her, stopped too.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
Bomi clutched her bag strap.
For a long moment.
Then—
"I'm tired of being a good person."
Hanz didn't interrupt.
✦ ✦ ✦
"I'm always afraid people will be disappointed if I say no," she said.
"That they'll hate me if I'm honest."
"So I keep smiling. I keep agreeing."
Her voice was quiet—but steady.
"And then I go home and cry alone."
Hanz stared at the wall, giving her space instead of eye contact.
But he listened. To everything.
"I envy people who can say what they want," she continued.
"But… I still want to change."
Silence settled between them.
✦ ✦ ✦
"You already are changing," Hanz said at last.
"Slowly. But for real."
Bomi turned to him. "You really think so?"
"I wouldn't notice if you weren't," he answered honestly.
Warmth spread through her chest.
"…Thank you for listening," Bomi whispered.
"I don't really talk like this to anyone."
"If you want to talk again," Hanz said quietly,
"I can listen."
Bomi smiled.
Not a polite smile.
Not a forced one.
But a light, honest smile.
And from that moment—
Their relationship no longer felt like a contract.