EXT SCHOOL GROUNDS - 8 AM
The weather was kind that morning.
Warm sunlight spilled over the festival grounds, and a cool breeze danced through the trees—balancing the heat like a silent agreement between seasons.
I tilted my face up to the sky and smiled faintly.
Even the weather feels like it wants to join the fun.
But no one else seemed to notice.
Everyone was completely swept up in the festival chaos—shouting across booths, waving flyers, flipping food, laughing way too loud. The entire campus practically vibrated with life. I wandered past rows of stalls stretching across the school grounds—sizzling food, colorful sweets, even some dried snacks I couldn't recognize (and honestly didn't want to). The culinary students had really gone all out. Every booth looked different—more creative, more chaotic, more fun than the last.
The SSC really did a good job organizing this, I thought, admiring the layout.
And just like that—
My thoughts circled back.
The SSC.
I almost forgot about him.
No—that's a lie. I hadn't forgotten. I'd just been too busy. Too distracted. I had tried to forget.
And now… I would try again.
I gave my head a tiny shake and whispered,
"I'll enjoy this one... for them."
I dashed toward the nearest booth, instantly drawn to a cupcake display stacked like a candy mountain. Pinks and blues and swirls of cream—all topped with glittering edible stars.
My eyes lit up.
These look amazing!
"Hello! Can I have one of these, and two of those pink ones?" I asked, practically bouncing on my toes.
I'll give the others to Dhylan and Oriel later.
Just imagining their reactions made me smile.
"Sure thing! I'll have that packed for you," the booth runner—probably a senior—grinned, pulling out a cute pastel box.
While I waited, I leaned closer to admire the cart. Everything was so detailed. Hand-painted flowers, tiny ribbons, soft colors that made it feel like a miniature patisserie from a storybook.
So pretty…
And then—
A voice stirred in the back of my mind.
'Okay, let's try some cupcakes. You'll make and decorate them, okay?'
His voice.
I flinched inside, blinking fast to push the memory away.
"Here are your cupcakes!" the student handed me the box, already tucked neatly into a patterned bag.
Even the packaging is nice... I told myself, trying to stay present. Keep moving.
"PARFAITS! Visit our café for incredible parfait flavors!"
A voice boomed from somewhere nearby. I turned.
A student in a maid outfit was waving a giant sign strapped to his chest, megaphone in hand. It was… weirdly effective.
Parfait?!
My feet moved before I even thought about it.
I made a beeline for the classroom café.
The inside looked like it had been pulled straight from a manga.
The classroom had transformed into a charming little wonderland. Sunlight filtered through the windows, now trimmed with delicate, hand-cut lace that fluttered gently with the breeze. The desks had been pushed aside to make room for round tables covered in pastel clothes, each one set with porcelain teacups and tiny vases of fresh flowers. A soft instrumental melody drifted from a hidden speaker, the kind of tune that made everything feel like a scene straight out of a manga.
The girls floated across the room in frilly maid uniforms, aprons tied in perfect bows. Their smiles were bright and practiced, their voices full of theatrical charm.
Their smiles were practiced but genuine, and the occasional "Welcome, Master!" or "Would you like sugar or honey?" made the whole experience feel oddly enchanting.
The boys, on the other hand, wore crisp vests and white gloves, channeling a polished butler aesthetic that contrasted perfectly with the maids' sweetness.
I couldn't help it—I grinned.
"This is amazing," I whispered, looking around like a wide-eyed tourist. "Oriel would look so good in one of these…"
The thought made me snort.
And Dhylan too—oh, that would be priceless. Just the thought of it made me smile wider.
I was still giggling when a soft voice pulled me back.
"Here's your parfait, ma'am."
I turned—and for a split second, everything froze.
The image flickered in my head.
Ice.
Offering me a parfait. That gentle moment in Sweet Dream Café.
The warmth in his quiet voice.
The taste.
The comfort.
I blinked.
Gone.
Just one of the butlers now, setting the tall parfait glass on the table.
"Thanks…" I said automatically, taking the spoon.
I scooped the first bite.
It tasted sweet.
But… I didn't feel it.
The joy I usually felt when eating my favorite food—absent.
The room blurred at the edges as another memory came up like a tide.
That same day... I almost burned the shop.
He comforted me.
I talked about Mommy…
The parfait blurred again in my vision.
I wasn't even tasting it anymore.
Weeks had passed. I had been busy—planning, helping, organizing.
And I told myself that was enough.
That I was fine.
That I'd moved on.
But now… when everything had finally slowed down…
I left him alone, I realized.
The thought settled into my chest like cold mist.
I didn't even know what I'd done wrong. I just knew something felt off. Like I had run away.
I'm overreacting.
He doesn't care.
Of course he wouldn't care…
But somehow…
That hurt more.
INT – GREENHOUSE – 8:00 AM
Sunlight poured through the glass panels in sharp, golden stripes.
While the school celebrated outside, one of the people who had helped make the day possible was tucked away—leaning against the trunk of a tree inside the dome.
Eyes closed, Ice sat quietly, the greenery soft around him, untouched by the festival noise.
The door creaked open.
He didn't move at first, but then opened one eye as footsteps approached.
"Ice! Why are you here?"
It was the school gardener, a middle-aged man with soil-stained gloves and a gentle smile.
"The event's a hit. You should be out there, enjoying it."
Ice gave a small chuckle.
"It's just you."
The gardener grinned as he turned the faucet on nearby.
"Waiting for someone?" he teased, glancing over his shoulder.
"Maybe a date?"
"Nope." Ice leaned further back against the tree, closing his eyes again.
"Not expecting anyone."
Next Chapter:
Fire ran like her life depended on it—eyes locked on his back as the hallway blurred around her. Students became obstacles. Noise became static. All she could focus on was reaching him before he disappeared again.
And then—he turned the corner.
But her heel caught the edge of the stair.
Time shattered.
Gasps echoed around her.
She wasn't falling.
A voice, low and sharp, cut through the pounding in her ears.
"I told you not to run in the hallway."