The classroom felt oddly hollow that morning. The sunlight streamed in through the windows the same way it always did, casting golden squares across the floor, yet something about it seemed… off.
Altair sat slouched in his chair, cheek propped against his palm, staring at the blackboard with an expression that could curdle milk. His usual dramatic gestures and sharp retorts were nowhere to be found. No theatrical sighs, no flicks of his pen, no sarcastic commentary tossed toward whoever annoyed him first that morning.
It was almost eerie.
Levi, sitting diagonally across from him, noticed immediately. In fact, everyone noticed. Altair wasn't the type to blend in. He was like a firework on legs, dazzling and obnoxious in equal measure. But today? He looked like a firework that fizzled out before reaching the sky.
When the teacher asked him to read a passage aloud, Altair did so mechanically, without flourish, as if the words were tasteless rice crackers. No dramatic pauses, no mocking impressions. Just… flat.
Levi leaned toward him once class ended. "You okay? You're unusually… quiet."
Altair's eyes shifted lazily toward him. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm fine. Just not in the mood for clowns today."
"Funny," Levi said, smirking lightly. "You're usually the clown."
Altair clicked his tongue and looked away, not even mustering a half-hearted insult.
That was when Levi's brows furrowed. Something was definitely wrong.
---
By lunchtime, the atmosphere had grown heavier. Normally, Altair would stride into the cafeteria like a performer stepping on stage, dragging Levi and Cassian into his theatrics whether they wanted it or not. But today, he wandered in quietly, tray in hand, shoulders drooping.
And Cassian's seat at their usual table? Empty.
Levi placed his tray down first, watching Altair sit across from him. For a moment, Altair just poked at his food listlessly, stabbing a slice of tamagoyaki as though it had offended him.
"Still not talking, huh?" Levi tried, attempting to lighten the mood. "What happened, cat got your tongue? Or maybe you're saving your wit for a dramatic monologue later?"
Altair finally raised his eyes, giving Levi a flat, unimpressed look. "If you want me to insult you, I'll need Cassian here. Otherwise, what's the point?"
Levi blinked. "Wait. Did you just—" His grin spread slowly. "Oh. I see. So that's why you're sulking."
"I'm not sulking!" Altair snapped, a little too fast, his cheeks coloring faintly. He shoved a mouthful of rice into his mouth to shut himself up.
Levi leaned back, studying him with narrowed eyes. "You're like a plant that shriveled the second the sun disappeared. Wow. I didn't think I'd ever see the day when Altair, the all-mighty snark machine, became listless just because one person's absent."
"Shut up, Levi."
But the damage was done—his ears were tinged red.
Around them, a few bystanders whispered.
"Isn't it weird? Altair's usually so loud."
"Right? He's not even insulting anyone today."
"Do you think he's sick?"
"No, look—Cassian's not here. That explains it."
The murmurs spread quickly, as rumors always did in their school.
Altair, catching the whispers, slammed his chopsticks on the table with a glare sharp enough to slice steel. "What are you staring at?!"
The students nearby jumped and immediately ducked their heads. But once Altair turned back to his food, they exchanged knowing glances.
Levi snorted. "See? Even the bystanders know. You're like an open book, Altair. You don't shine without Cassian to annoy."
Altair gave him a withering glare. "Are you writing poetry now, Levi? Spare me."
But despite his biting words, the slump of his shoulders and the faint downward tilt of his lips betrayed him.
---
The rest of the day dragged. Altair went through classes like a ghost of himself. He answered questions mechanically, doodled absentmindedly on his notebook, and didn't even bother when a classmate spilled water dangerously close to his bag.
Levi watched the whole thing with growing amusement mixed with faint concern. It was strange—without Cassian around, Altair wasn't Altair. Sure, the snark and sarcasm were still there in fragments, but the spark was gone.
As the final bell rang, Levi caught up with him by the gates. "I'll walk you home."
Altair looked at him, baffled. "Why?"
"Because if I don't, you'll probably wander into traffic while daydreaming about Cassian."
Altair's face flushed red instantly. "I am not daydreaming about him!"
Levi raised his hands innocently. "Sure, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night."
Altair gritted his teeth, then spun on his heel and started walking briskly. "Fine. Do what you want."
Levi grinned and followed.
---
The walk home was surprisingly quiet. Usually, Altair filled the air with sarcastic commentary about passerby outfits, dramatic complaints about the weather, or snide remarks about Levi's choice of shoes. But now? His silence spoke louder than any words.
Levi finally broke it. "So. You gonna admit it, or should I?"
Altair didn't look at him. "Admit what?"
"That you miss him."
Altair stumbled on the sidewalk, nearly tripping. His face turned crimson. "Wh—Miss him?! Absolutely not!"
Levi arched an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. Totally believable. You've been sulking since morning, stabbing food like it owes you money, and glaring at innocent classmates for breathing. If that's not missing someone, then what is it?"
Altair pulled his scarf up to his face, muttering into the fabric. "You're insufferable."
Levi chuckled. "Maybe. But at least I'm honest."
For a moment, silence stretched between them, filled only by the sound of their footsteps. Then Levi said softly, "You know… it's not a bad thing, Altair. Missing someone. It just means they matter."
Altair's steps faltered. He glanced at Levi, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone.
Levi smiled faintly. "Cassian might not be here today, but he's definitely somewhere in your head. Don't run from that."
Altair turned away quickly, pretending to be fascinated by a nearby lamppost. His face was burning, and no amount of denial could cool it down. "…Idiot."
Levi laughed, the sound light and warm. "Yeah, yeah. But you still let me walk you home."
Altair didn't reply, but he didn't shove him away either. And that, in Levi's eyes, was answer enough.
---
That evening, as Levi left Altair at his gate, the latter lingered by the door, staring up at the empty sky.
Cassian wasn't there. No tall silhouette, no unreadable gaze from the opposite window. Just quiet.
And though Altair would never admit it out loud, the emptiness gnawed at him more than he liked.