Iris's POV
It was past midnight, and the world had already gone quiet.
The kind of quiet that didn't ask anything from you… didn't rush you… didn't expect you to be anything more than what you already were.
I sat at my study table, pen moving slowly across the page, the soft scratch of ink against paper being the only sound in the room. My eyes burned slightly from the hours, but I didn't stop.
I couldn't afford to.
And yet,
my thoughts weren't fully here.
They drifted.
Back to yesterday.
Back to him.
"If she dances… someone could sing."
My pen paused mid-line.
A faint breath left my lips.
He didn't know.
He didn't know that I had already heard him.
Long before yesterday.
Long before he even knew I existed.
And just like that,
a memory surfaced.
Not sharply.
Not forcefully.
But gently… like something that had been waiting to be remembered.
---
It was almost two years ago.
I had just shifted here.
Back then… I was quieter than I am now.
Not calm.
Just… distant.
I didn't talk unless it was necessary. Didn't step out unless I had to. Most days, I stayed inside my room, the door closed, the world kept outside like it didn't belong to me.
That day,
I remember sitting beside the window.
Closed.
Always closed.
I didn't like opening it back then.
Didn't like letting anything in.
And then,
I heard it.
A voice.
Soft.
Melodic.
Carrying something I couldn't name but somehow understood.
I didn't know where it was coming from.
Didn't know who it belonged to.
But my body…
it relaxed.
Without permission.
Without reason.
I just sat there… listening.
And for the first time in days,
my thoughts slowed.
It felt,
familiar.
Like someone close was there.
Like I wasn't alone in that silence.
---
I blinked.
The memory dissolved just as quietly as it came.
And I was back.
Back at my desk.
Back in the present.
My fingers tightened slightly around the pen.
"…Should I really do this?"
The question slipped out before I could stop it.
Perform.
In front of people.
After so long.
I hadn't danced on stage in… years.
What if I couldn't match him?
What if my movements felt incomplete next to his voice?
What if,
I exhaled slowly.
No.
That wasn't the real question.
The real question was..
If we win…
My gaze shifted toward the notebook where I had written down expenses.
Hospital.
Medicines.
Everything.
If we win… even once…
it could help.
Not forever.
But enough.
Enough to breathe.
And I had already applied for that content writing job.
Maybe, just maybe,
this could work.
A sudden thought struck me.
Before I could overthink it, I stood up.
My chair scraped lightly against the floor as I moved toward my phone and played a song
...one I always returned to when I didn't want to think, only feel.
The music filled the room softly.
And without hesitation,
I started moving.
---
I had never learned dance formally.
No classes.
No teacher correcting my steps.
Everything I knew,
I had taught myself.
Watched.
Felt.
Adjusted.
Repeated.
And somehow… it became mine.
I faced the mirror.
My reflection looked back at me, unsure at first.
But then,
I let go.
---
The rhythm settled into my body slowly, like something it already recognized.
My arms moved.
My steps followed.
And as I turned,
the fabric of my full-length dress lifted slightly, creating a soft swirl around me.
I smiled.
That was always my favorite part.
The way it moved with me… like it understood the motion before I did.
I didn't think about technique.
Didn't think about perfection.
I just… danced.
---
Time slipped.
Quietly.
Unnoticed.
---
By the time I stopped, my breathing had deepened, my body warm, my mind,
lighter.
Much lighter.
I looked at the clock.
And blinked.
"…Thirty minutes?"
I hadn't even realized.
A small, tired laugh escaped me as I turned off the music and moved back toward the bed.
Maybe…
I wasn't as disconnected from it as I thought.
Maybe,
I could still do this.
---
The next morning felt… different.
Not perfect.
But softer.
Like the weight I usually carried had loosened just a little.
My phone rang.
Anya.
"Good morning," I said as I picked up.
"That depends," she replied immediately. "Are you going to do something stupid today?"
I frowned slightly. "That's a very warm greeting."
"I'm serious," she continued. "Are you actually thinking about that performance thing?"
I leaned back against the wall, thinking.
"…I don't know."
"You do know," she said. "You're just overthinking."
"I haven't danced on stage in a long time," I admitted. "What if I mess up? What if it doesn't match his singing?"
There was a pause.
Then,
"Iris," she said, softer this time, "you don't need to match him. You just need to be you."
I didn't reply immediately.
"And also," she added, her tone shifting back, "there's prize money."
I sighed. "You're not helping."
"I am helping. Financial motivation is the best motivation."
A small smile appeared on my face despite everything.
"…I'll think about it."
"You better not think for too long."
"I won't."
We hung up soon after.
---
I got ready quietly and stepped out with my cycle, adjusting my bag over my shoulder before starting to pedal.
The morning air was fresh, brushing softly against my face as I moved forward.
As I passed his house,
my gaze shifted without thinking.
Empty.
I looked ahead again.
And kept going.
---
Kaizer's POV
I woke up with a feeling I couldn't explain.
Not heavy.
Not exactly disturbing.
Just… unsettled.
Like something had shifted slightly out of place, but not enough to identify.
I sat up slowly, running a hand through my hair as I tried to shake it off.
It didn't leave.
But it didn't grow either.
So I ignored it.
---
After getting ready, I reached for my bag,
and paused.
The notes.
Her notes.
They were still there, neatly placed, exactly how she had given them.
I picked one up.
Clear handwriting.
Simple structure.
Easy to follow.
My gaze lingered on it for a second longer than necessary.
And then,
it hit me.
I had suggested it.
The performance.
In front of people.
A stage.
Voices.
Thoughts.
So many thoughts.
A faint frown appeared on my face.
Why did I say that?
I didn't even like performing in front of Lux.
And now,
this?
I exhaled slowly.
Iris.
She had agreed.
Or at least… she hadn't refused.
She was unsure.
That much was obvious.
But,
she could dance.
I had seen it.
Not fully.
Not openly.
But enough to know.
Still…
it was her decision.
Not mine.
---
A faint sound echoed in my mind.
Soft.
Light.
A child's laughter.
---
I froze.
Just for a second.
Then it disappeared.
Like it was never there.
"…Again."
I muttered under my breath, picking up my bag and stepping out.
---
The door clicked shut behind me.
And as I turned,
I saw her.
At a distance.
Riding her cycle.
Her bag hanging loosely over her shoulder, her hair moving slightly with the motion as she pedaled forward without looking back.
For a moment,
everything went quiet.
Not empty.
Just…
still.
---
I looked away.
And started walking toward the bus stop.
---
By the time I reached school, the noise had returned.
Not overwhelming.
But present.
Manageable.
Lux was already there.
Of course.
He spotted me instantly and walked over with that familiar expression that usually meant trouble.
"Good morning," he said.
"Morning."
He looked at me for a second.
Then grinned.
"Yesterday was interesting."
I sighed. "Don't start."
"Oh, I will," he said, clearly enjoying this. "You..the guy who can't even sing properly in front of me..decided to perform on stage?"
I rolled my eyes.
"It's not like that."
"Then what is it like?" he asked, leaning slightly closer. "Was it because it was for her?"
I didn't answer.
Not immediately.
And that was enough for him.
His grin widened.
"I knew it."
"It's not that," I said finally.
"Sure," he replied casually. "Whatever helps you sleep."
I glanced at him.
Unamused.
But he didn't stop.
"So," he continued, "when's the grand performance? Should I book front row tickets or backstage passes?"
I shook my head slightly, adjusting my bag.
"This isn't a joke."
"I didn't say it was," he replied, though his tone still carried amusement. "I'm just saying… this is new."
A pause.
Then, a little more quietly,
"You've never stepped forward like that before."
I didn't respond.
Because he wasn't wrong.
---
And maybe,
that was exactly why it felt different.
---
But this,
this wasn't the end.
Not even close.
Something had shifted.
And this time,
it wasn't going to stay quiet.