Sleeping

Lena slipped through the crowded hallways, her shoulders hunched as waves of noise crashed around her—laughter, shouting, slamming lockers, the chaos of a new school day. She shoved her earbuds in, the music muffling it all into a distant hum. Her breathing slowed slightly as she weaved through the crowd, eyes fixed down as she walked.

By the time she reached the third floor and opened the classroom door, her chest was already tight.

Empty.

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Quiet relief bloomed in her chest—she'd dodged the awkward scene she dreaded most. She hated walking in to find groups of students already inside, their eyes flicking toward her. Those in-between moments, thick with silence as she moved stiffly to her seat, pretending not to hear whispers—whispers that might not even be about her—made her dizzy just thinking about them.

This was better.

Just her and the silence.

Besides, she liked having the classroom to herself—it gave her a moment to gather her thoughts, to breathe before the chaos poured in.

But as she walked toward her desk, she froze.

Someone was already there.

A head of soft, dark curls rested on the desk in the far corner by the window. Sunlight streamed in, catching on the strands of deep black, making them glow like brushed velvet.

"Umire…" Lena's voice came out in a whisper, barely more than breath. 

She drifted toward the back of the room, weaving past the desks—each step quiet, cautious, like she was approaching something sacred.

Umire was asleep, head pillowed on her folded arms, hair cascading down over her face and the desk. Her eyes were shut, her breathing slow and even. 

Lena couldn't take her eyes off the girl's sleeping figure.

She looked so peaceful—no masks, no pretense—just steady, quiet breaths.

Something about the scene before her felt ethereal.

Lena found herself wondering, distantly, how someone could look so pretty even while asleep.

The morning sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow across her skin and hair, making her look almost like a painting.

Her curls tumbled softly over her arm, looking impossibly fluffy—like they'd melt under her touch.

Lena found herself sitting at the desk across from Umire, angling herself to look more fully. One of her earbuds slipped out. She didn't bother fixing it.

She felt something pull tight in her chest. A small, sharp pang of jealousy twisted inside her. Not cruel or angry—just helpless.

She's so pretty, even when she's not trying…

Of course, she's popular. Of course, everyone likes her.

And yet…

There was something strangely intimate about the scene—the sunlight filtering through the window, casting a warm glow over both of them. Quiet. Unrehearsed.

Lena found herself staring longer than she intended, her gaze lingering on Umire's peaceful face, drawn to something she couldn't quite place.

Suddenly, Umire shifted, making Lena flinch. The soft groan that escaped her lips was followed by a subtle furrow of her brow, almost as if she were in pain. Lena's gaze dropped to the hand that lay outstretched on the table, her heart beating a little faster for reasons she couldn't explain.

Instinctively, Lena reached out.

Her fingers brushed against Umire's outstretched hand, resting gently beside her. The moment Lena touched her, Umire's face relaxed. Her brow smoothed. The tightness melted from her features.

Lena stared.

She had only known this girl for two days. Barely. And yet…

Why did it feel like longer?

Why did it feel like she had always known her—like some quiet part of her had been waiting for this exact moment?

She shouldn't have wanted this. Not this badly. She knew better. It wasn't for someone like her—someone who didn't belong. But she did want it.

The sunlight spilled across the desks, warming their skin. Outside, birds chirped faintly, the early morning still holding its sleepy hush. Lena couldn't tear her eyes from the girl across from her—her gentle breathing, her delicate lashes, fluffy curls that washed over her soft cheeks.

Without thinking, Lena reached out again—hesitant, careful.

Her fingers threaded into the thick curls, just barely brushing them.

So soft…

She stilled, hand hovering, afraid to move, afraid to wake her. Afraid, maybe, of how much she wanted to stay like this.

And yet, in that moment—surrounded by silence and sunlight, the world holding its breath—Lena felt something quiet unfurl inside her.

Something she couldn't quite name… or maybe she was too afraid to give it a name.

Lena's hand hovered hesitantly before resting on Umire's hair, her fingers brushing the silky strands. The softness was beyond anything she'd imagined—light, almost too delicate to touch, and yet somehow, impossible to stop. She moved her fingers gently, entranced by the addictive, fluffy texture beneath her hand. Time seemed to slow as she sat there, mind drifting in a peaceful fog.

She didn't know how long she had been sitting like that, fingers brushing through Umire's hair, or how long she had been staring at her peaceful, sleeping face. But the stillness felt timeless. The sunlight streaming through the window. The soft hum of birds singing outside. The quiet thrum of music in her ears. All blurred into one quiet, suspended moment.

Lena felt a strange stillness as if she could have stayed there forever. Just her, Umire, and the world holding its breath.

The sudden sound of a door creaking open shattered the tranquility. Lena's heart lurched in panic, her hand jerking away from Umire's head as if she'd been caught in something forbidden. She whipped her head toward the door, heart racing, but only a few students were beginning to trickle in, bustling and talking as usual.

Before she could relax, she felt a gentle pull on her wrist, followed by a soft voice.

"Why'd you stop?" Umire's words were slow and drowsy, her tone laced with the quiet warmth of sleep.

Lena jumped, her eyes wide, and she turned to face her. "You were awake!?" The exclamation came out louder than she meant, her voice tinged with a mix of surprise and embarrassment.

"Half awake…" Umire's smile was faint but genuine, her eyes half-lidded with sleep as she slowly pulled Lena's hand back toward her. "I woke up in the middle of you petting me... It felt nice." She let out a sleepy sigh, her head resting on her bicep as she guided Lena's hand back to her hair. "Don't stop... feels good. I could get used to this… headpats from my bestie~" Her words were playful, though slightly slurred with drowsiness.

Lena's heart skipped, her face heating. "What time is it?" Umire mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. She looked even more tired now, her eyelids fluttering with the effort to stay awake.

"Ten minutes until class…" Lena answered, her voice quiet. She couldn't help but notice how vulnerable Umire seemed right now, as if the walls she usually wore had crumbled for just a moment. "Did you not sleep last night? You look really tired."

Umire's smile faded slightly, and she let out a soft, almost distracted laugh. "Something like that…" Her voice trailed off, leaving an unspoken weight in the air. Lena sensed something deeper in the tone—something hidden just below the surface.

"What are you listening to?" Umire asked, her voice soft, tired, but still carrying that curious edge.

"Oh, uh… music…" Lena replied, dumbfounded, her mind still in a strange sort of dream-like daze.

Umire's eyes opened just enough to shoot her a half-amused look. "Wow. Really? Never would've guessed." Then, without waiting for a reply, she reached over and grabbed the earbud that had fallen out of Lena's ear earlier, slipping it into her own. "Not bad," she murmured as she settled back into her position, closing her eyes again with a yawn. "I'm going to take a nap. Wake me up when it's time for class, okay?"

Lena stared down at her, surprised. For a moment, she couldn't quite register what had just happened—Umire, so relaxed, so trusting. But before she could fully process it, Umire's breath evened out, and she fell back into a peaceful, deep sleep.

Lena glanced at the clock, then around the room. Only a handful of students had arrived, chatting quietly in the front. The rest of the classroom felt distant, separate from the bubble she and Umire had unknowingly created in that corner.

Her gaze shifted back to Umire, who was still asleep, her head nestled comfortably on her arm. Something shifted inside Lena. Without thinking, she shifted closer, her free arm slipping around to rest gently on the desk beside Umire's head. Then, almost instinctively, she let her head settle there too—her earbud still tucked in, the music softly flowing through her.

The rhythm of the morning seemed to slow. The quiet hum of the world faded into the background as Lena's fingers returned to the soft curls beneath them, tracing them gently. She wasn't sure why she felt so drawn to this moment. To her.

It was so strange. A day ago, Lena would've never dared to touch someone like this—let alone feel comfortable enough to fall into this easy closeness. She would've been too nervous, too worried about what people might think.

But with Umire, it felt different. She didn't feel like she had to fight for space. She didn't feel the weight of being judged.

She just felt… right.

Lena didn't know why. She couldn't explain it. All she knew was that, for a moment, it was like she and Umire had always been like this—familiar. As if the boundaries between them had already been blurred, as if they had always known each other.

It didn't make any sense, and deep down, Lena knew it was strange. But in the quiet, stolen space, Lena let herself believe it for a second.

And just as easily, she found herself drifting, her eyes fluttering closed, the sound of Umire's breath and her soft curls grounding her into this peaceful, quiet place between waking and dreaming.

Whenever she was with Umire, time seemed to blur—both slowing to a gentle drizzle, then rushing past her fingers all at once. Lena had never felt like this before… and terrifyingly, she could grow used to it. But the more comfortable she got, the more scared she became. What if all of this was just a dream? What if she was making it all up?

Umire's cold voice from earlier echoed in her mind.

"Do you like me the most?"

A shiver crept down her spine. The way she had said it—like the wrong answer would break everything. Like if Lena didn't play along, this strange little "best friend" act would shatter in an instant.

She hated how fragile she was about all this. How stupidly attached she'd gotten in just two days. Like a parasite, she thought bitterly.

The softer the warmth, the quicker the past seemed to find her.

"You seriously thought we were friends? I was just being nice to you, gosh…"

The memory slammed into her out of nowhere, like a punch to the gut. The dreamlike warmth from before vanished instantly, her stomach twisting. Her chest began to ache, breath catching in her throat. Her hand froze in Umire's hair. Then she jolted upright, heart thudding, fully awake now.

But… Umire said they were friends, Lena tried to tell herself. That wouldn't happen again. I'm not misunderstanding this time… right?

She didn't hear the approaching footsteps. Only the swell of old panic. Her thoughts tangled together, choking her.

Pathetic. You're so damn sensitive.

"What are you doing!?"

The voice crashed down from above, sharp and angry, and a hand yanked hers away from Umire's head.

Lena looked up, startled, meeting the girl she distantly remembered as Yuna's furious gaze. There was no mistaking it—anger, maybe even disgust. Her grip on Lena's wrist was tight, bruising.

"I… I… uh—" Lena stammered, her mouth fumbling for words. The look in Yuna's eyes—she'd seen it before. That was normal. That's how people looked at her.

"Huh… is it time for class already?" Umire mumbled groggily, lifting her head from her arm. Her hair was slightly tousled from Lena's touch but still fell around her in that unnaturally graceful way, moving as if it belonged to someone in a dream.

Her eyes, bleary but soft, landed on Lena first. A slow, easy smile curled on her face as she leaned into her hand, propped up by her elbow. She looked more awake now but still comfortably distant from reality.

Lena stared, and it hit her again: This wasn't normal. That softness—towards her—didn't make sense. The disgust on Yuna's face felt more real, more familiar. That was what people gave her. Umire… was the strange one.

Even with the sunlight spilling through the window, no light caught in Umire's eyes. They stayed as dark and deep as ever—like voids reflecting Lena back at herself.

"Umire, this girl—" Yuna started, voice shaking. "She was touching you in your sleep!"

Umire's head turned slowly. Her expression didn't change at first—still tired, still unreadable. But as she looked at the scene, her smile faded slightly. A long, tired sigh escaped her lips.

"…Yuna. I asked her to, okay?"

Her voice was soft but tinged with quiet irritation. She raised her head, movements sluggish, eyes cold. Unfamiliar. That coldness—Lena had never heard it from her before.

Lena couldn't stop the thought from surfacing. It should've been Yuna sitting here.

Someone like Yuna should've been the one getting the warm smiles and the soft voice.

Not her.

Someone like her didn't deserve something so delicate and pure aimed at her.

She was the one who should be ignored—looked at with cold eyes and quiet disgust.

Yuna visibly recoiled, her grip tightening on Lena's hand. Her face contorted—shock, betrayal, disbelief.

"B-but… Umire, you—"

"Let go of her hand, Yuna. Okay?" Umire's voice was soft, but her eyes stayed fixed and unblinking, not leaving Yuna's.

Yuna's lips parted like she wanted to argue, but nothing came out. She just stared, obvious hurt flashing across her face like a stormcloud. She obediently loosened her grip on Lena's wrist and stepped back like she'd been burned.

But before anything else could be said, another voice called out cheerfully from across the room.

"Oh, Umire! Hey!"

Just like that, Umire's attention snapped away from Yuna. The tension broke, and her expression shifted as easily as flipping a switch.

Umire turned toward the voice, a new smile slipping easily into place—warm, untouched by everything that had just passed. 

"Hey, what's up, Liz?" Umire replied, her voice light and cheerful.

Yuna stood frozen, expression unreadable now as she stared down at Umire, who was turned from her. 

Lena sat still, watching that smile bloom—like the previous moment hadn't even happened. But then the memory crept in. Those unfamiliar, cold hands clinging to hers—she'd been content to ignore it, to pretend it hadn't happened. But now it came banging against the edges of her mind, refusing to be forgotten.

Liz, a girl with short hair and a friendly face, approached the desk, oblivious at first to the crackling tension still lingering in the air. "Oh, nothing much... I was just returning this," she said, placing a pencil on Umire's desk. Her eyes flicked around, only now catching the atmosphere. "Wait… why's everyone gathered here?"

Before anyone could answer, the classroom door opened with a loud click.

"Alright, everyone to your seats!" Mr. Yon called out, strolling in with the casual authority of someone used to being obeyed.

The class shifted instantly, the fragile moment shattering. Chairs scraped. Murmurs died down. Yuna turned her gaze one last time toward Lena, her eyes narrowed into something cold and cutting. It landed like a slap. Lena flinched, even as Yuna turned and walked away wordlessly.

"Hey—this is my seat."

A boy stood beside her, pointing at the desk Lena sat at with a blank expression.

Lena blinked, disoriented. "Oh. Right. Sorry—"

"I guess you gotta go now~" Umire said in a sing-song voice, plucking the earbud from Lena's ear and pressing it gently into her palm.

Lena stood up quickly, heart racing again, and mumbled another apology to the boy before practically fleeing to her seat. Umire gave her a playful little wave—careless, casual. Lena didn't wave back.

As the class settled, Mr. Yon began collecting homework. He paused at Lena's desk, his frown forming the moment his eyes grazed her paper that was full of doodles and nonsensical answers. She already knew and distantly predicted the talk he'd have with her.

But her thoughts weren't on the long lecture and questions she would soon surely face.

Yuna's glare still lingered in her mind—icy, familiar. The kind of look she'd been familiar with. The kind of look that made sense.

That look was reality.

And Umire's? That soft voice… the way her hand had held hers, the easy warmth in her smile? That had been something else entirely. Something fragile and dreamlike. Something that couldn't last.

Lena sat frozen, gripping the earbud in her hand like it might keep the moment alive a little longer. But already, she could feel it slipping. Like she'd woken up from something too good to be true. And she didn't know how to fall back asleep.