Real and Dream

The bell rang.

"Umire, come see me in my office before you head home, okay?" Mr. Yon called over the rising chatter.

"Yes, sir! I'll be there," Umire called back, waving casually.

Mr. Yon gave a nod, then left the room, leaving the class to erupt into noise—plans about arcades, cafés, and who owed who a rematch.

"Umire, you wanna come with us today? We're heading to the arcade," someone called from the corner.

"Well…" Umire trailed off, her tone in its usual perfect, friendly, polite voice.

"Umire!"

Lena turned as Yuna strode toward Umire's desk.

"Oh, Yuna," Umire replied smoothly, her voice sugar-sweet with something sharper beneath.

Yuna stopped just short of the desk. For a second, it looked like she was going to say something—really say something—but instead, all that came out was, "You're back…"

The words felt like they barely scratched the surface of everything she wasn't saying.

"That I am~" Umire sang lightly, leaning back in her chair so only the rear legs balanced on the ground. Her fingers fished a lollipop from her pocket, the crinkle of the wrapper loud in the silence that had suddenly fallen over the group.

She stuck the candy between her lips, staring lazily out the window as her chair rocked back and forth, dangerously off-balance.

No one said anything.

The hum of chatter from the rest of the classroom sounded distant now, as though this corner had slipped into a different world entirely.

"Uh… so, do you wanna come?" one of the students finally asked, trying to slice through the silence.

"Mmmm… I'll see. Gotta check in with Mr. Yon first," Umire murmured around the lollipop, not looking away from the window.

"Wait, really? You might come?" another student said, eyes lighting up.

"Maybe. We'll see."

And with that, she dropped the front legs of her chair with a bang, the sharp noise cutting through the air like a warning shot. Her hair spilled forward, catching the light like liquid ink as she stood.

"See you," she said with a small, tilted smile before walking to the door. She didn't wait for a response.

She didn't need to.

Lena sat frozen. Watching.

The whole scene had unfolded like a movie—no, not even that. Like a dream projected onto glass, and she was on the other side. Separate. Small. A spectator in Umire's world.

And sometimes… sometimes it felt like that's all she'd ever be.

"You're not gonna talk to her?"

Lena flinched and briefly turned towards the direction of the sound. Luka's voice cut through her trance like cold water. She turned her head back once more just in time to see Umire slip out the door, her figure vanishing behind it.

Luka was slouched across his desk, chin propped on one hand, watching her with a casual sort of curiosity. Not unkind. Just observant.

"Where's Sarah?" Lena asked, avoiding the question.

"She and Kai left without me," he said, shrugging like it didn't matter. 

They usually walked home together. Lena had overheard them make plans before—laughing, talking like they'd known each other for years. She was never included. Never invited. Not that she wanted to be, she told herself. The idea of trailing behind them while they shared their inside jokes on the sidewalk made her stomach turn. A familiar nausea. The kind that came from knowing, deep down, that you were no one's favorite. No one's first choice.

She had learned to live with that acceptance. But it still stung when she was forced to be reminded of it.

"I've been watching you," Luka said, interrupting her thoughts. "You just kinda… stare at Umire a lot. Aren't you two—"

He paused, searching for the right word.

"Besties~?" he finally said, mimicking Umire's lilting tone with a teasing grin. "Didn't you say you haven't seen her all week? Why aren't you talking to her?"

"Ah…" Lena hesitated. How was she supposed to explain that being Umire's "bestie" only felt real when no one else was around? That their friendship lived in a kind of fragile dream-space, where eyes and voices from outside shattered the illusion. That when others were near, Lena couldn't find the courage to step into the same light that Umire existed in so effortlessly.

It was safer to stay silent. Safer to keep Umire to herself—even if that meant pretending the bond wasn't there when others looked.

"I'm gonna talk to her later," Lena said finally. "I'll wait outside the teacher's office."

It sounded painfully like an excuse.

"Oh?" Luka said, eyebrows lifting. "Damn. I was gonna ask if you wanted to walk home together. But I guess you'll be with Umire... Too bad."

"Oh…" Lena blinked. The idea startled her. Luka—walking home with her?

She didn't know what to say. The silence that followed wasn't heavy exactly… just awkward enough to make her heart feel out of rhythm. She started packing her things slowly, methodically, while Luka shoved his books into his bag with practiced carelessness. He looked distracted.

Then—

"I'll come with you," he blurted.

Lena looked up.

"I mean, I'll wait with you," he added quickly, pounding one fist into his palm like it was a brilliant idea. "Till she's done with Mr. Yon. That's cool?"

Lena opened her mouth. Closed it. Nodded.

Somewhere deep in her chest, something twisted—uncertain if it was warmth or warning.

"Uh…" Lena started.

"Okay, come on—let's go!" Luka cut in brightly, already slinging his bag over his shoulder as he stood up. "Why are you still sitting? Let's hurry! She's gonna be so surprised to see us waiting for her." He grinned over his shoulder, practically bouncing with energy.

"Okay…" Lena echoed, a beat behind, rising slowly to follow him.

They walked together through the mostly empty halls, Luka glued to his phone. Now and then, he'd tilt the screen toward her to show her a dumb meme or a cat video. He laughed easily—sometimes to himself, sometimes while glancing at her, like he wanted to share the joke even if she didn't get it.

Lena didn't say much. She never really did. But Luka didn't seem to mind her awkward silences. Even during lunch with Sarah and Kai, he always made space for her in the conversation, like he'd decided her presence was enough, words or not.

She didn't understand him. But she didn't dislike him either.

"Ah—here we are," Luka said, stopping in front of the teacher's office. He leaned casually against the wall beside the door. Lena mirrored him, but stayed a few feet away. She stared at the floor, fiddling with her sleeves, then pulled out her phone and began scrolling without focus.

How long would Umire be? She had been absent for a whole week, so it might be a while…She wondered what they were talking about. Why was Umire gone for a week in the first place? Why was this wasnt an abnormal occurrence? The fact that Lena had no clue the answer to either of those questions…

The silence stretched comfortably—until Luka spoke.

"So… how'd you and Umire become besties?"

Lena's thumb froze mid-scroll. She blinked and looked up.

"Huh?"

Luka met her gaze, his expression more curious than teasing. "I'm just wondering," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "She's not the type who gets close to people. I've only really seen her hang out with Yuna—and even that's... different. So I'm curious how you pulled it off."

Lena hesitated. Her mind sifted through memories, moments of Umire she'd stored away like precious, fragile things. The first time. The way Umire had said it. The soft smile. The depth of it. The question so easily asked….Wanna be besties?

She could imagine Luka laughing at that. Saying it was dumb. Saying she wasn't someone someone like Umire should call a best friend.

But when she looked at him now, standing there with his phone loosely in hand, his face open and waiting… she found herself wanting to say it anyway.

"She just asked me," Lena murmured, voice small. "If I wanted to be besties."

She dropped her gaze again, started picking at the skin near her thumb.

There was a pause.

Lena felt her stomach twist. Maybe that was stupid. Maybe he'd laugh.

"Really?" Luka said after a few beats. "That's it?"

She braced herself.

"That's… that's kinda nice. People overcomplicate stuff like that. It's cool that she just asked, and you said yes. Simple."

Lena blinked.

"So… she just asked you?" he continued, like he wanted to picture it.

Lena nodded slowly.

Luka gave a soft laugh. "That's kind of amazing. I wouldn't have guessed she'd say something like that. But I guess… maybe she saw something in you."

Something in you.

Lena turned her face slightly as she felt her face heat up, pretending to look at the posters on the wall so he wouldn't see the way her lips twitched.

A small silence followed, stretching between the two before more words came.

"Then you guys just decided to be best friends…" Luka trailed off as if in wonder.

Lena let out the breath she hadn't even realized she was holding and dropped her hands, no longer picking at the raw skin near her thumbs.

"Yeah… that's it. She just asked me and I said yes," she murmured, her shoulders loosening just slightly.

"I wish I had a bestie…" Luka said, voice softening into something almost wistful. "Sarah and Kai are basically fused at the hip. I'm just the third wheel." He sighed. "I'm jealous of you."

Lena looked up sharply. Jealous? Of her?

He had to be joking.

Before she could say anything, Luka pulled out his phone. "By the way, I started looking up cakes after trying the one you made." He took a step closer, standing barely a foot away now. "Was this the flavor?" He held out his phone toward her.

On the screen was a lemon-lime raspberry cake, decorated with swirls of buttercream frosting that looked eerily similar to hers.

"Wait… you think that's the cake I made?" Lena asked, blinking.

"Yeah, doesn't it look the same? Am I wrong?"

"They just have the same frosting! They're not even close to the same cake…" she started, and then—suddenly—she laughed. Loud, unfiltered, and so sharp with real amusement that it startled even her.

The sound cracked through the air like sunlight through a cloud.

Her eyes widened in horror, and her hand flew up to cover her mouth. Her stomach dropped. What did I just do? She'd laughed at him. He was going to think she was weird. Or rude. Or—

But Luka just stared at her, eyes wide… and then he laughed too.

"Oh, my bad," he said, grinning. "Guess I'm dumb. You like baking, huh?"

Lena lowered her hand slowly. Her heart was still pounding, but not from panic anymore.

"What makes you think that…?" she asked out loud.

"Well, you're good at it," Luka said with a shrug. "You don't get that good unless you love it. People don't spend time on stuff they don't care about."

"Yeah…" Lena murmured. Something was cracking open inside her. Something fragile and locked away.

"Yeah, I do like baking. I like it a lot." Her voice trembled. "It helps me escape. It's fun. I want to be a baker one day."

It spilled out of her all at once. Messy. Honest.

Luka smiled. "That's cool. I wish I were passionate about something."

Then he dropped down and slid along the wall until he was sitting on the floor. "Gosh, Umire's taking forever. I hate getting called to the teacher's office."

Lena found herself shifting lower, half-crouching against the wall with her arms braced on her knees, caught somewhere between standing and sitting.

"The last time I got called was because my grades sucked…" she admitted, glancing sideways.

She didn't know why she was telling him this.

Maybe it was the way he listened without interrupting. Maybe it was the way he never looked at her like she was painfully awkward and a bother. She didn't feel nervous and that alone…that feeling of freedom….That scared her.

Because she knew this feeling. She knew how easily she latched onto people who were the slightest bit kind. It was disgusting. She hated it. Hated herself.

But she still did it.

She still opened up.

Even though she knew it wasn't real, and she would ruin everything soon enough.

Even though she told herself over and over that affection wasn't meant for people like her.

She still craved it like air.

"Wait, for real? I thought you were smart."

Lena blinked, startled. "Why?"

She found herself lowering to her knees more, leaning back against the wall so she was closer to Luka's level, less towering, more even.

"I don't know. Quiet people are supposed to be smart, right? I thought that was a rule." Luka shrugged, casually.

Lena scoffed. "I'm not."

She thought about how ridiculous that assumption was—and let out a small laugh. It came out lighter than she expected. A little unpracticed.

It felt good.

Too good.

She hadn't spoken this much to anyone…no, as a matter of fact, she hadn't spoken to anyone besides her mom in half a year. No wonder it felt foreign.

Things that felt good always came with a warning label. In her head, at least.

"You look nice when you laugh," Luka said, quieter now. "You should do it more."

Lena froze for a second. Her throat caught. "Uh… thanks," she mumbled, unsure what to do with the compliment.

Luka tilted his head up to look at her. "Have you ever seen Umire laugh? Like… not the polite kind. A real one."

"I…" Lena trailed off.

Had she?

She wanted to believe she had. Wanted to believe that the soft smiles and quiet giggles Umire gave her were real. That they weren't curated, calculated.

But she didn't know.

The truth sat heavy on her chest.

If she said it out loud—if she admitted even to herself that Umire's warmth might've been fake—it would ruin everything. Shatter the dream she kept holding onto with white-knuckled fists.

"I'm not sure," she said finally.

"I feel like she'd be really pretty if she laughed like that. I mean… she already is," Luka added, catching himself. "Wait, not like—creepy or anything. I just mean, in general."

"It's fine," Lena said quickly.

"She's just… interesting," he went on. "Everyone watches her. She's perfect, but you don't really know her. Like there's this line no one's allowed to cross. She's untouchable. Kind of like a main character, you know?"

"Yeah," Lena murmured. "I get it."

She did. More than he knew.

She let herself drop fully to the ground beside him, her legs giving out from the strain of standing too long. They sat there, backs against the wall, staring at the door Umire was behind.

The silence that followed wasn't warm exactly, but it wasn't cold either. It just was.

Lena unlocked her phone and started scrolling lazily. But the words on the screen blurred. She couldn't focus. Luka's words echoed in her mind like a ghost.

She's untouchable.

So why had Umire chosen her?

Why did it feel like she was the only one allowed to touch the parts no one else could see? The only one who ever saw that hollow stare—those haunting, dark eyes locking onto hers, gripping her hand as if in devotion, whispering promises of love and belonging. The only one who saw Umire's perfect class president mask slip, just for a moment.

Unless… she hadn't.

Unless it was never real.

"Whoa—look at this cake!" Luka's voice intruded on the silence once more as he leaned in closer, his shoulder almost brushing against Lena's as he held out his phone. On the screen sat a two-layer red velvet cake, delicately decorated with swirls of frosting and sugar flowers. "That's insane… Baking is so cool. Could you make something like that?"

"Yeah," Lena murmured, "I can."

"No way! Can I see? Please?" Luka's eyes lit up like a kid asking for candy. "Pretty please?"

Lena hesitated for a second, then nodded. "Um… yeah. One sec."

She exited her tabs, scrolled to her gallery, and tapped open the folder labeled Cakes. It was her little sanctuary. A collection of sugar and effort and joy. She always took photos of everything she made—it reminded her she could create something beautiful.

"Here," she said, placing the phone between them.

Luka leaned in even closer, their faces only inches apart now as she scrolled slowly through the pictures.

"Whoa, that one's like straight out of a magazine—oh my god, that one too—wait, how did you do the frosting like that?"

Lena found herself smiling. Really smiling. His reactions were so unfiltered, so genuine. Every comment made her chest feel lighter, warmer. Like she was standing in sunlight after being indoors too long.

She knew this feeling was dangerous.

Lena glanced at how close they were—how real this moment felt—and her stomach twisted.

This wasn't like Umire.

Umire was a dream. A soft, perfect dream Lena couldn't stop chasing. Her presence wrapped around Lena like a spell—delicate, dazzling, and impossible to hold onto. With Umire, Lena felt suspended, floating in a fantasy built on affection and promises she still couldn't fully believe.

But Luka felt… real.

Not enchanting. Not overwhelming. Just present. Human. Warm and kind in a way that didn't threaten to swallow her whole. And consume every nerve in her body.

And somehow that made it feel even scarier.

She liked saying she had a best friend. She liked believing she was someone's chosen person—that in a room full of people, someone might still pick her. She liked what Umire offered.

Even if part of her still wondered if it was ever truly offered at all.

Even if her heart whispered the terrifying truth:

Maybe she'd made it all up.

"Even if she wasn't sure it was true, she still wanted to believe it—cling to Umire's words, no matter how impossible they sounded, no matter how hard they were to believe.

—-----------------------------------------

Lena kept scrolling through the photos, her mind wandering in the comfort of Luka's genuine compliments. Each new image brought a warm flush to her chest, and her smile felt lighter than it had in weeks. But then—faintly—there was a sound, a quiet shh of a door sliding open. It barely registered at first, an unfamiliar interruption in the rhythm of their conversation.

The sound of footsteps, light but precise, followed. Brown loafers clicked on the floor before pausing at the threshold. The door clicked shut with an almost unnatural finality. The air shifted.

Lena's body stiffened. The tension in the hallway thickened. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was. She could feel the presence of Umire, like a storm gathering on the horizon.

Umire stood there, still and silent, her gaze fixed on the two of them. Lena could almost see the dark swirl in her eyes, a strange glimmer that seemed to pull the light out of the space. There was something wrong in the way she watched them—like a predator admiring the proximity of its prey.

Her eyes lingered on them for a moment too long, an icy coldness settling over Lena's skin. They looked too close. Too comfortable. Together.

Lena felt a wave of discomfort ripple through her. Something… wrong was happening.

And then—like a snap, like something breaking—Umire moved.

In a single, fluid motion, she crossed the room, her hands shooting out to grab Lena's wrist, jerking her to her feet. The sharp, almost painful grip sent a jolt of alarm through Lena's body. She gasped, her breath hitching in shock as her body was yanked upward.

"Bestie~," Umire's voice chimed, the smile on her lips stretching wide—but it didn't reach her eyes. Her eyes were cold, glassy, like a doll's.

Lena's breath caught. "Umire…" Her voice was soft, a fragile whisper. And with it, Umire's hold, that impossible, suffocating presence, wrapped itself around her once more.

Lena couldn't move, couldn't think—her mind seemed to shut down, consumed by the intensity of Umire's gaze. The grip on her wrist was all she could feel, the only thing that anchored her to this moment. The pain didn't even register—not while she was staring into those eyes, those impossible eyes.

It felt familiar. Too familiar.

And then, Luka's voice cut through the tension like a spark in the dark.

"Oh! Umire, you're done already?" Luka laughed, oblivious to the quiet storm brewing between them. "I was just with Lena waiting for you. She was showing me her cakes. They taste so good, by the way! Kai said you talked about them, and—oh, you were right! They're amazing!"

Lena's head snapped toward Luka, his cheerful tone a sharp contrast to the oppressive heaviness in the air. It was relief—brief and fleeting, but it shattered the spell that had almost trapped her.

Umire's gaze flickered toward Luka, her expression unreadable, and for a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath.

"You tasted her cake?" Her voice was too soft, too quiet. There was something sharp underneath it—a subtle edge, a venom just beneath the surface.

"Yeah, haha. It looked a little old, though—kinda like it had been in her bag for a while. But still, it was great!" Luka chuckled nervously, clearly not picking up on the tension. "Anyway, I guess you guys are heading out now, huh? I'll see you tomorrow, Lena!" He flashed a grin. "Take care, class prez! Sorry for stealing your bestie for a bit… maybe we can hang out sometime, huh?" He laughed awkwardly, but the moment was still—heavy, pressing, like an unspoken question in the air.

Umire didn't smile back. She just stared at him—hard, cold, still—like a predator waiting for its prey to make the wrong move. Luka, oblivious as ever, shrugged and gave a small wave before turning and leaving.

The moment he was gone, Umire turned back to Lena, her eyes colder, her expression blank. Her grip on Lena's wrist softened, but it was still there, unyielding.

"Lena…" Umire's voice was a low murmur, almost like a breath against Lena's skin.

Lena swallowed, her heart hammering in her chest, her pulse quickening. She could feel it—something was wrong.

Umire's gaze intensified, her smile slowly faltering, replaced with something darker, something deeper. The air around them felt stifling, like it was closing in, like it was thick with a need—an unspoken demand.

"You like me the most, right?" Umire's voice, despite its softness, was heavy with something Lena couldn't place. Something strange… desperate… pleading.

Lena's mouth went dry. "Yeah…" Her voice was distant, as if the words were coming from someone else entirely…the fragilness of the dream Umire had her in felt as though it was being threatened again.

Umire's smile returned, but it was cold—far colder than before. She reached for Lena's other hand, clasping it with her own, her fingers light but felt strangely too cold.

"I like you…" Umire whispered, her fingers sliding into Lena's hand, enveloping it in a chill that sent a shiver up Lena's spine. "I like you too…," Umire repeated.

 "I like you more than anyone else in this world. You're mine," Umire's voice deepened, her tone shifting—no longer cold, but warm, almost too warm. Her eyes locked onto Lena's, unreadable, as her fingers tightened slightly. As she held Lena's hand, the coldness started to melt, her touch growing warmer, as if she were melting into Lena's skin.

The words slid under Lena's skin, winding through her thoughts, making her heart ache in a way she couldn't explain. Umire's hand, though cold at first, started to grow warmer. But Lena couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.

Lena pulled in a shaky breath. "Where were you?" she asked, the question slipping out before she could stop herself. "Where have you been for the past week?"