It was already lunchtime, and the hallways were buzzing with students. The school echoed with the sounds of chatter, hurried footsteps, and bursts of laughter—especially from unusually loud room.
Students passing by couldn't help but glance inside, drawn by the loud squeals and excited voices.
The theater club... was in chaos again.
"Kyaa! She looks *perfect!*" one student yelled, playfully slapping her friend's arm.
"I know, right?? But seriously, how did you find her? We've been trying to convince everyone—none of them were gems like her!" she said with a teasing tone that made the others laugh.
But among all the cheerful noise and excitement, one particular student looked like a bird trapped in a cage. She looked drained, annoyed, and absolutely done with everyone in the room.
That student was Hannah.
After asking what the three girls had been scheming about, she was immediately dragged into their mess. Escape? Not an option—her own best friend had turned against her.
"Oh her? She's Naomi's friend!" one of the girls proudly said.
Naomi raised her chin slightly, smugness written all over her face.
Hannah gave her a glare that could burn through concrete. With that proud look on her face, Naomi's nose looked so long and sharp, she might as well have been Pinocchio.
"Naomi... you *know* I'm not in any club. So why would I do you a favor?" Hannah said flatly. The other girls turned to Naomi expectantly—after all, only she could convince her.
"Still... can't you help your friend? Just this once??" Naomi pleaded with clasped hands. The others joined in, forming a tragic choir of begging.
Hannah stared blankly, visibly regretting every life choice that led to this moment.
She then gave them a disgusted look, then glanced away, visibly uncomfortable. She hadn't expected to be surrounded by a hundred Naomi-clones. Loud, cheesy, delusional, and relentlessly stubborn.
"Hmph. Isn't it your fault your club doesn't have a boy?" Hannah asked, crossing her arms.
"That's not our fault! No one joined!" a girl protested.
"And why didn't anyone join?" Hannah lifted an eyebrow.
The girls fell silent, minds drifting back to the real reason.
---
*[Flashback]*
"Everyone! Come join our club!" a girl called out to the passing students. "It's fun, you'll learn a lot, and you'll make friends~!"
...But no one even turned their heads.
The girls sighed in sync, bewildered by their lack of success. Some students joined, sure—but they were all girls.
Another girl looked around at the stall, then at their group. Her face scrunched.
"...Oh no. I think I know why."
---
*[End of Flashback]*
"So... no one joined because your stall looked like it was for girls only?" Hannah repeated.
The girl who'd figured it out nodded sheepishly.
"Ehh? What do you mean *for girls only??* We made it for everyone!" another girl protested.
"But it was all pink!" someone pointed out, and several nodded.
"What's wrong with pink? We're girls!"
"*That's exactly the problem!!*"
The arguing started again.
Hannah just shook her head at them.
Naomi, sensing her growing annoyance, scooted closer and smiled.
"What are you doing... smiling like that?" Hannah muttered, resting her cheek against her palm.
"Hehe, I'm just really sorry for dragging you into this. Even after you just got out of the Drama Club mess~"
*"Your face doesn't look sorry at all..."* Hannah thought, giving Naomi a side-eye.
"So you knew?"
"Yep. I also heard about your little... embarrassing moment~" Naomi teased.
Hannah groaned and rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling faintly. "I wanted to bury myself after that."
"How unlucky of me. I didn't get to see your face!"
"Tsk. Oh, stop," Hannah said, looking away while Naomi laughed harder.
One of the quieter girls, who had been listening to the chaos, walked over hesitantly.
"Uhm... are you really not going to help us?" she asked.
Hannah looked at her sad expression and sighed.
"I don't know... I want to, but I'm not good with people. Especially not on stage."
"We just thought... you really fit the role," the girl said quietly.
Hannah looked at her, then at Naomi. Naomi only gave a small sheepish shrug. She clearly agreed.
Hannah went quiet, guilt settling in. She didn't want to reject them outright, even if it felt impossible.
"...What kind of character is the protagonist?" she finally asked as she slowly stood up.
The girl's eyes widened in surprise. The rest of the group immediately stopped arguing and turned toward her.
"You... you're going to help us??" Naomi asked, stepping closer.
"Yes. But—I suggest making *that girl* the protagonist, not me." Hannah pointed to a student standing quietly in the back, who blinked and looked confused.
"M-me?" the girl asked, pointing at herself.
"Yes, you." Hannah smirked slightly, a faint twinkle in her eye.
---
The room that was once filled with squeals and laughter had now quieted into murmurs of confusion. Everyone was puzzled—why *that* girl? Why did Hannah want her to play the protagonist? No one could figure out what she was thinking.
Hannah, clearly confident in her choice, ignored the unsure glances and quiet protests. She offered a faint smile to the girl in question before approaching her with calm steps.
The girl instinctively took a step back, caught off guard. She stiffened as Hannah slowly walked around her, observing her with a steady, thoughtful gaze.
After a few seconds, Hannah softly clicked her tongue and turned toward the other girls.
"Hm, she fits the role. Why didn't you cast her as the protagonist in the first place?" she asked, her voice even, scanning their faces like she was waiting for one of them to catch up.
"Ehh… but why?"
"You ask why? Then let me ask you—why did you want me to play the role in the first place?"
"B-because you're tall…" one student muttered.
"You're kinda handsome!" another added.
"You give off masculine vibes!" Naomi interrupted brightly.
"Exactly." Hannah smiled slightly at Naomi, then turned her attention back to the girl. The girl looked unsure, her eyes wide as all attention fell on her. She fiddled with the hem of her shirt unconsciously, her nerves clearly showing.
"She has those same qualities. Doesn't she?" Hannah asked, her tone gentle but firm.
A few girls exchanged glances. Slowly, they began to nod.
"You—tell me. Am I right?" Hannah asked, reaching out and lightly playing with a strand of the girl's hair without thinking.
The girl, Esther, froze under Hannah's touch. She'd been stiff before—but now she felt something else: flustered.
"Uh… y-yeah," she said quietly, her voice a bit shy but honest. She nodded, trying not to look too overwhelmed by the attention. Her eyes darted to the side, but there was a faint smile on her lips.
The other girls couldn't help but squeal.
Hannah let go of her hair, smiling in quiet satisfaction before facing the rest of the club again. She clapped her hands softly.
"Well then. Looks like you've got your protagonist."
---
*[Harin's POV]*
After lunch, Harin was one of the first to return to the classroom. He sat by the window, his attention drifting far from the teacher's voice. His thoughts were quiet, hazy—until a soft breeze rolled through, brushing against his cheek. A single leaf fluttered in through the window and landed on his desk, right beside the sketchpad Hannah had given him.
He blinked at it, then glanced at the sketchpad.
Another breeze came, flipping the pages with surprising speed. He reached out, stopping it before it flipped too far—then paused.
Between the mostly blank pages, something had caught his eye.
Drawings.
He slowly began turning the pages one by one. His expression shifted—eyes softening, brightening with every flip. They weren't just doodles. They were *good*.
Some were portraits of people. One page had Naomi's face, expressive and full of life.
He hadn't expected this.
In that moment, Harin realized—Hannah wasn't just observing. She was feeling everything. And maybe… she wasn't as distant as she seemed.
Until now, Hannah was always the blunt, practical girl. Logical. Distant. Someone who didn't care about "pointless details." But these drawings—soft, detailed, full of emotion—told a different story.
There was more to her than she let on.
He kept flipping, until a particular sketch made his hand still.
It was of the Drama Club's play.
She had drawn *them*. Even after her harsh critiques… she still saw them. Saw the play. Saw the characters. And she captured it beautifully—like someone watching with genuine interest.
Harin stared at the page, quietly stunned.
For the first time, it felt like *he* was watching the performance—through *her* eyes.
And what surprised him most… was who she chose to draw in the center of it all.
---
*[Back to Hannah's POV]*
Now that her time with the Drama Club was done, Hannah found herself being pulled into helping the Theater Club. Even though her advice was often sharp, the girls couldn't help but gravitate toward her.
"Ms. Salem, thank you so much for helping us!" one member beamed.
"Yeah! We're super grateful!" said another.
"Seriously, we owe you!"
Hannah gave a dry chuckle under her breath, slightly overwhelmed by their attention. She cleared her throat, trying not to fidget.
"You're welcome," she said with a faint, polite smile. "And… you can just call me Hannah."
A round of squeals followed.
Hannah blinked, clearly confused by the way they were acting. She was completely surrounded—until Naomi stepped in with a slight frown and a dramatic flair.
"Okay, okay—back off, ladies. You've been sticking to my girl for way too long, and it's bothering me."
Naomi casually threw her arm around Hannah's shoulder, making her freeze in place.
"Run along now. We need our alone time," Naomi added with a smug grin.
The girls pouted but eventually scattered, giggling on their way out.
Naomi waved them off in triumph, then turned to Hannah with a pleased look.
"What are you doing?" Hannah asked flatly.
"What?" Naomi blinked innocently.
"You're clinging way too much. And what was with the way you talked back there? Ugh. Stop."
"Excuse me? I was saving you from being swarmed! Can't you just thank me like a normal person?"
Hannah sighed, brushing Naomi's arm away. "Fine, fine… thanks."
"There we go," Naomi said, immediately clinging back to her. "That's more like it! Besides, I was getting a little jealous. They were clinging to you, my wife."
Hannah's eyes widened slightly. "Since when did we get married, woman?"
"Duh. Since elementary, stupid."
Naomi tugged her along with a triumphant grin. Hannah just let out a scoff, but her gaze softened as they walked side by side.
Then—someone called her name.
Both girls stopped and turned around.
A boy with soft, wavy hair stood a few steps away, slightly out of breath—Harin.
Naomi gave Hannah a sharp side-eye: Since when were you two close?
Hannah, immediately understanding her silent code, subtly shook her head.
Harin approached them slowly, his gaze focused on Hannah.
"I'll go on ahead," Naomi said, releasing Hannah's arm. "Meet me back at class, okay?"
Hannah nodded, "Okay…" Hannah replied.
Naomi walked away, glancing back just once before leaving them alone.
Hannah turned to Harin, her expression a bit guarded now.
"What do you want?"
Harin didn't speak immediately. He simply held out the sketchpad, his eyes never leaving hers.
Hannah blinked in surprise.
"You… you're really more than the girl I first thought you were, huh?" he said, his voice soft and sincere.
His words weren't teasing.
They were genuine.
And Hannah… was confused.
She didn't know how to respond. A part of her felt exposed, like he had seen something she hadn't meant to share.
And yet… it didn't feel bad.