The lights in the hall brightened as the club presentations concluded. At the podium, the senior leaders thanked everyone, and a wave of relief and chatter swept through the students. An orientation leader gave a brief notice about the day's remaining activities, then began to usher them toward the exits. Vye, however, remained frozen in her seat, Rhay watching silently beside her. The world around them had returned to its normal rhythm, but Rhay's mind was a chasm, echoing with the profound confusion in Vye's eyes.
He saw her to his left, a fixed point in the chaos. Her hand, which had been at her neck, now rested in her lap, a quiet, almost imperceptible tremor running through her fingers. Her face, a mask of bewildering certainty, belonged to a girl who had just made a profound decision for reasons her conscious mind couldn't grasp. The club she had just chosen was a ghost of his past, a place he had been trying to avoid in this new life. He had nurtured an optimism about an unknown future, a future she had offered by saying she'd join the chess club with him last night. But now, that future was slowly crumbling as he watched the timeline reassert itself, a horrifying possibility that his every change had been for nothing.
His heart, which had just started to beat with the reckless courage of a boy, now felt like a fragile, unprotected thing. His mind raced, not with strategy, but with a terrible, visceral fear. His new path was not about standing by as a reliable friend, but about claiming the unwritten space between them—the space where a different kind of story could be told. But how could he be a companion when she was walking back into the very past he was trying to rewrite?
He looked into her confused eyes, seeing his own turmoil mirrored there. He decided to play it by heart, moving his hand in a decisive gesture to cover hers. "Are you okay?" he asked, a genuine concern in his voice that she felt as an unspoken love. She turned her head to look at him, then down at their joined hands. In that simple gesture, she felt the profound burden of her fear replaced by a new, comforting warmth—a sanctuary for her confused mind.
With life returning to her eyes, she tightened her hold on his hand and offered him the sweetest smile he'd ever dreamed of. "Thanks," she said, her voice soft but clear. "I'm feeling much better. You know, your hand feels... like home. Have we ever met before?"
Her question was innocent, but the implication of it pulled Rhay back to his old self. He quickly retracted his hand from hers, not with a strong denial, but with the shyness of a boy caught in a reckless act. "What?" he stammered, his voice a frantic whisper. "No... No! This is the first time we've met. Never before." He quickly added, "Well... I'm glad you're fine now. But what happened?"
"I don't know," Vye confessed, a mix of apology and self-doubt in her tone. "I just felt a strong pull toward the literature club. So, I'm sorry, but we might not be able to join the chess club together."
"It's okay, don't worry about it," Rhay said, his voice full of reassurance. "But if you want, I can accompany you to visit any club you wish to join later."
"Are you sure?" she answered, a warm smile radiating her happiness. "I won't be polite about it."
"Yeah," he said, the word simple but sincere, then added, "I'll find you later?" She just nodded with a soft smile.
Swept along by the current of students making their way to their respective dormitories, Rhay and Vye were separated by the crowd. Fray joined Vye, while Rhay followed June's lead. The evening air was cool on his face, but he didn't feel it. He was a boy again, small and utterly exposed, helpless against the tide. He knew with terrifying certainty that his new path—the one he had chosen to protect their fragile intimacy—was no easier than his past life. He had traded his careful mind for his eager heart. But in a single, unthinking moment, she had shattered the beautiful glow of a glass called future, with a move he never could have anticipated.
Later, in the dorm room during compulsory rest, Rhay stared at the ceiling, the rhythmic breathing of June and the other boys a distant, unremarkable backdrop. He had been so sure of his new path. So sure that his presence alone would be enough. But his heart, as young and impulsive as it was, couldn't stop the unknown forces pulling Vye toward a life he couldn't control. He imagined her sitting in the literature room, a silent sanctuary he knew all too well. His mind, once a chess player's, now saw the pieces of his past moving without him.
He had a choice to make. He could stay at the chess club, the path he had chosen to be an enigma and a new person. Or he could follow Vye, abandon that plan, and be there for her, a silent companion in the club that had once been his. He remembered his past self, a boy who had stood by and watched as she found happiness with another. That memory, once a source of regret, was now a source of clarity. His new, unscripted courage was not just about winning a heart; it was also about being there.
Meanwhile, in her own dormitory, Vye was sitting on her bed, her small digital camera resting in her palm. The metal felt cold, a stark contrast to the phantom warmth of a necklace she couldn't remember owning. She looked at the image on the screen—a picture she had secretly taken of the tiny, intricate pen and book necklace—and then back at the camera itself. Her mind was a fortress of confusion, but her heart was a compass, pulling her toward a truth she couldn't comprehend.
She knew she had to join the literature club. It was a compulsion, a profound and undeniable truth pulsing in her soul. A second club was allowed, and her hand remembered the weight of a camera, while her heart felt a profound, unsettling curiosity about the photo she had secretly taken of the necklace. She had no conscious memory of ever wanting to take pictures, but like the literature club, this was another puzzle she needed to put together. In her mind, she had already made her choices: the quiet glow of a room filled with poets, and the bright flash of a shutter. She was not merely choosing a club; she was choosing a path. A path that, as she would soon find out, was not her own.
Later, as the clock on the wall hit 4:15 PM, the school's bells rang, signaling the start of the pre-registration activities. Students began to stream out of their rooms, heading toward the various club venues for the demonstrations. Rhay's mind, a "warzone" of doubt just moments ago, was now a place of profound and simple certainty. He stood up, picked up his bag, and walked out into the hall, waiting for her. His new path was not about winning over the past, but about being a companion on a journey he didn't understand.
Vye, clutching her camera, was also ready to leave. She looked at the door, her heart a compass pointing in two different directions. She had to choose, but she didn't know what she was choosing. The truth was, she was not choosing a club. She was choosing a path. A path that, as she would soon find out, had already been chosen for her, and was not truly her own.