That morning, I dragged myself to school with heavy eyes. I had stayed up all night writing, and the messy words from my notebook still haunted my mind, making me want nothing more than to collapse onto my desk and sleep.
The first period was history. Of all subjects, history was the one that tormented me the most. Not because it was boring, but because it demanded endless memorization. I hated rereading page after page, line after line, each word dry and lifeless, like an overloaded CPU about to burn out. Throughout the lesson, the teacher repeatedly reminded the class to keep quiet, but the room was filled with constant chatter. Meanwhile, I just sat there scribbling notes half-heartedly, wishing the period would end so I could get back to the unfinished story lingering in my head.
When the bell rang for recess, the classroom instantly turned into a small marketplace. Some rushed to the cafeteria, others ran out to the yard to play soccer. I stayed in my corner, pulled out my notebook, and scribbled down a few lines of the script I had thought of last night but hadn't finished. Honestly, I hadn't planned to bring that notebook to school at all, but ideas often came to me during class, so I brought it along.
Because of staying up so late, my body was heavy with drowsiness. My eyelids felt like they weighed tons, and before I knew it, I had slumped over my desk. When I opened my eyes again, startled, I found the classroom completely empty. My classmates had already gone to the science lab for chemistry. No one had bothered to wake me up—as if I truly was invisible in their eyes.
Panicking, I grabbed my books, pens, and notebooks—without realizing that I had also scooped up my secret notebook from inside the desk.
"Damn it…" I muttered under my breath, bolting into the hallway, heart pounding with the fear of being late. I rushed up the stairs to the third floor, where the lab was waiting.
But just as I turned the corner—
'Bang!'
I collided head-on with someone coming down. My books scattered across the floor, tumbling down the steps. Among them, a small notebook slid away, its cover flipping open to reveal scribbled words and rough sketches.
Groaning and rubbing my forehead, I looked up at the person I had run into. It was Malid.
"S-Sorry… I didn't mean to," I mumbled.
Malid brushed the dust off her clothes and gave me a small smile."It's fine, I was rushing too. Are you hurt?" she asked, then crouched down to help me gather my things.
Her fingers brushed against my notebook. Her eyes widened slightly as they caught a glimpse of its contents. My stomach dropped.
"Ah—wait, that's—!" I snatched the notebook from her hands, my face burning hot. But judging from her expression, she had already read a little.
"Tuna… Is this something you wrote?" she asked softly, curiosity glimmering in her eyes.
My mind went blank. I froze, searching desperately for an excuse, but no words came out.
Instead of laughing or mocking me, Malid's gaze held something else—interest. Her lips curved into a small, shy smile, as if trying to ease my panic.
"That's surprising. I never thought you could write like this. It's almost like a manga script," she said warmly.
I stammered, my face practically steaming.
"I-It's nothing… just some silly nonsense."
Malid chuckled lightly. She didn't push me to show her more, but the curiosity in her eyes was unmistakable.
"Really? But from what I saw, it looked like a story with real structure."
Her words weren't teasing. They carried genuine intrigue, gentle and encouraging.
"Maybe… you could show me more of it sometime?" she added, almost casually.
My heart pounded faster at that simple request. It wasn't just words—it felt like she had pulled me into her orbit.
I nodded quickly, muttered a thank you, and rushed off toward the lab with my arms full of books. Malid smiled, gave me a small wave, then turned down the stairs toward her PE class.
Even after her figure disappeared from view, I stood there for a moment, dazed. What had just happened felt like a dream. But one thing was certain: from today onward, Malid's eyes would never look at me the same way again.
A single fallen page… yet perhaps it was the beginning of an entirely new story.