Ever since that day Malid accidentally saw my notebook, my once-quiet life has completely changed.
Instead of me hiding away in the corner of the classroom as usual, she started approaching me on her own. Lately, I've had this constant feeling of being watched. Every time the break bell rang and I stepped outside the classroom, a strange chill would run down my spine. And whenever I turned around, that familiar figure was always there—Malid. She would stand there pretending it was just coincidence, but her eyes never left me.
I grew anxious, restless, trying to avoid her. In my head, countless worst-case scenarios kept playing out: she would laugh at me, she would show the notebook to her friends. To me, that notebook wasn't just paper and ink—it was my world, the only place where I could truly live with my dreams. If others were to see it, wouldn't everything fall apart?
But none of those fears ever came true. Malid never told anyone, never even made a single mocking remark.
One break time, I deliberately stayed in the classroom, pretending to scribble something while staring blankly out the window. Suddenly, Malid appeared. She stood by the window frame, looked at me, and gestured for me to follow her. Then she pointed at the notebook in my hands, as if to say: "Bring it with you."
My heart thumped violently. Startled by her intentions, I quickly shook my head, about to refuse. But the determined look in her eyes weakened my resolve. In the end, I reluctantly stood up. She led me to a bench in the courtyard and motioned for me to sit. I hesitated, but one glance at her serious gaze was enough to make me obey.
"Can I see more of that notebook?" Malid asked, her voice completely free of mockery.
I hugged the notebook tightly to my chest, stammering, "N-no… I can't. It's just… meaningless stuff."
Malid tilted her head, her eyes shimmering with patience, her tone carrying a hint of excitement.
"Meaningless? Don't say that. I can see your determination in every word you've written."
Her words struck me silent. She was right—I had poured my entire heart into it. But the fear of rejection still clung to me, forcing my gaze downwards, unable to face her.
When I tried to stand up and leave, Malid suddenly tugged at my sleeve to stop me. "Just let me see it. Only me. I promise I won't tell anyone. Okay?"
I froze. Inside me, two voices clashed—one longing to be acknowledged, the other desperate to hide everything away. Before I could decide, Malid swiftly snatched the notebook from my hands.
"Hey! Give it back!" I panicked, reaching out.
But Malid only gave a small mischievous smile before dashing off. I chased after her, but quickly realized how pitiful my stamina was—I couldn't even keep up with… a girl. She ran straight into the art club room. I stopped at the door, too embarrassed to step inside, terrified of the eyes in there. My heart pounded wildly as dread consumed me—what if she showed everyone? My thoughts were in chaos, like my head was about to explode.
After what felt like forever, Malid finally came out. She handed the notebook back to me with a radiant smile, her eyes gleaming. "You really do have talent. It's even more alive than I imagined."
Her words sent a strange mix of fear and joy rushing through me. But… what if she had already shown it to the club? Malid, as if reading my mind, reassured me gently, "Don't worry. I promised, didn't I? No one else knows."
Then she tugged me along the corridor on the third floor, her voice brimming with conviction. "You write, I draw. Let's turn your stories into a real work. Who knows? Maybe you'll shine in the club too."
Just then, a familiar voice echoed from behind us. "Tuna? What are you doing here?"
I froze. It was Heri, my younger cousin. His face was filled with curiosity and surprise at the sight of me standing next to the art club president. My words caught in my throat.
Malid glanced at Heri, her expression tinged with annoyance. "You again? Always hanging around the clubroom. What are you planning this time?"
Heri's cheeks flushed red. He said nothing and quickly left. Malid turned back to me, frowning slightly. "That's your brother? He looks much stronger than you. Meanwhile, you're always so timid."
I mumbled softly, "Y-yeah…"
But in my head, her earlier words kept echoing. Malid wanted to work with me? The art club president, someone so talented, wanted to collaborate with me? It sounded like a joke.
"No… I can't do it," I lowered my head, refusing.
But Malid didn't back down. She smiled, gentle yet unwavering.
"Your ideas are impressive. Don't underestimate yourself."
That was the first time someone truly acknowledged me. Not out of pity, not out of politeness—but out of belief.
In that moment, I felt it clearly—the distance between me and Malid was beginning to change. I was no longer just the timid boy hiding in the classroom's corner while she shone from afar. For the first time, a shared path between us began to open…