Chapter — The Quiet Between Us
The next day arrived without warning.
No storm.
No sign.
No indication that anything had changed.
Morning light slipped through classroom windows the same way it always did. The school bell rang with its familiar sharpness, cutting through sleepy chatter. Shoes echoed against the tiled corridors, voices overlapped, laughter rose and fell without care.
Everything was normal.
And that was the strangest part.
For Win, the world felt distant, like he was watching it from behind thick glass. Sounds reached him, but they were dull. Faces passed by, but none of them stayed in focus. It felt as if someone had turned the volume down on everything except his own thoughts.
He sat at his desk, back straight, hands resting near his notebook. The page in front of him was blank, but he kept staring at it as if words might appear on their own.
Then Ter arrived.
He entered the classroom quietly.
No loud greeting.
No careless grin.
No dramatic energy that usually announced his presence before he even spoke.
His steps were slower than usual, measured. His shoulders were slightly tense, as if he was bracing himself for something invisible. Without looking around, without saying a word to anyone, he pulled out the chair beside Win and sat down.
Just like that.
Silence settled between them.
Win noticed immediately—but he didn't turn.
He could feel Ter beside him. The familiar presence. The warmth. The space that had always been filled with noise, now completely empty.
No greeting.
No teasing smile.
No sarcastic comment.
Just quiet.
A few rows away, Ran and Farm sat together. On any normal day, Farm would have already shouted something ridiculous across the room, laughing before anyone could respond. Ran would have thrown his bag onto the desk, leaning back like he owned the place.
Today, neither of them spoke.
Neither of them looked at Ter.
Not even once.
This time, it was different.
This time, it really was Ter's fault.
The hours passed strangely.
Teachers came and went, their voices blending into a low, steady hum. Chalk scraped against the blackboard. Pages turned. Pens scratched endlessly across paper. Time moved forward, but it felt stretched, uneven.
Ter sat perfectly still, eyes fixed ahead, hands folded neatly on the desk. He looked like a child trying very hard not to be noticed, not to make another mistake.
Win kept pretending to read.
His eyes moved across the same line again and again, but none of the words stayed. His mind kept drifting back to the same thoughts, the same images, the same sharp feeling in his chest that refused to fade.
Not a single word passed between them.
When the final bell rang, its sound felt louder than usual. Chairs scraped sharply as students jumped up, relief flooding the room. Bags were slung over shoulders. Laughter returned in waves.
Win stood up immediately.
Too quickly.
As if staying one more second would make everything worse.
He didn't wait for anyone.
He didn't look back.
He walked straight out of the classroom, through the corridor, past the gates, ignoring the voices calling each other's names. He kept walking until the school was nothing more than a distant hum behind him.
The lake was calm.
Too calm.
The water reflected the sky perfectly, pale blue and endless, broken only by small ripples caused by the wind. Tall grass swayed gently along the shore, whispering softly as if sharing secrets only it could understand.
Win stopped near the edge.
He stood there with his hands in his pockets, staring at the water, at nothing and everything at the same time. His reflection stared back at him, distorted and unclear.
He didn't know how long he stood there.
Minutes passed. Maybe more.
The world felt suspended.
Behind him, someone else stood silently.
Ter.
He had followed him all the way without making a sound.
Ter watched Win's back—the rigid shoulders, the way he stood too straight, like he was holding something inside that might break if he relaxed even a little. The silence between them felt heavy, pressing against his chest.
Ter swallowed hard.
He took one step forward.
Then another.
Each step felt heavier than the last, as if the ground itself was resisting him. Finally, he stood beside Win, close enough to feel his presence, close enough to reach out.
"I'm sorry."
The words came out small.
Fragile.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Again.
And again.
And again.
Without stopping.
"I'm sorry, Win. I know I was wrong. I know. I was stupid. I'm a fool. An idiot. I shouldn't have sat with those damn guys. I shouldn't have trusted them. I shouldn't have—"
Win turned.
Ter's face was red. His lips trembled. His eyes were shining, filled with something Win had never seen there before.
Tears.
Actual tears.
Win froze.
In all the time he had known Ter—through fights, reckless laughter, sharp arguments, loud confidence—he had never seen this.
Never once.
Ter crying.
Tears slid down his cheeks as he kept talking, his voice breaking again and again, words tripping over each other in desperation. Win stared at him, stunned, his chest tightening.
Then—unexpectedly—a small laugh escaped his lips.
Not cruel.
Not mocking.
Just soft.
Ter blinked, completely confused, tears still falling. "Why…?" he whispered.
Win shook his head slightly, still smiling. "It's okay," he said quietly.
Ter stared at him like he hadn't understood. "Okay…?"
Win didn't know what else to say.
The silence returned—awkward and thick. Win looked away, suddenly unsure, his fingers tightening in his pockets. Ter noticed the tension immediately. He wiped his face quickly with his sleeve, sniffed, then laughed, embarrassed.
"God," Ter muttered, forcing a grin. "That was stupid."
Win laughed too.
At first, the sound felt uncertain, shaky. Then it grew more natural, more real. They laughed until the tension finally loosened, until the tight knot between them began to fade.
Win sat down on the grass.
After a moment, Ter followed and sat beside him.
They sat there, side by side, watching the lake, letting the silence exist without fear.
"Ah…" Win sighed. "What happened that you came to school just for this?"
Ter hummed softly. "You don't know about my family."
Win glanced at him. "Is your mom scary? Like… does she beat you?"
Ter burst out laughing. "Ohhh really?"
Win shrugged. "I think so. I saw your father at the office once. He doesn't look like the scary type."
Ter's smile slowly faded. "Then you're the same as others."
Win frowned. "Why?"
"You don't know about my family. Not yet." Ter stared at the water, his voice quieter. "They're worse than you think."
Win didn't push.
Instead, he changed the subject gently. "Don't you have extra classes today?"
"I do," Ter said. "But I don't want to go."
"Oh." Win paused. "We got a project, right?"
Ter nodded. "Yeah. Let's make it together."
Win smiled faintly. "How about some days at your house, some days at mine?"
Ter hesitated. "I'll have to ask my parents."
"Okay. Message me."
"I will." Ter stood up. "I'm leaving now."
"Wait."
Win reached out, gripping Ter's waist lightly, stopping him. The touch was brief but firm.
"You still have to apologize to Farm and Ran," Win said. "They're sad too."
Ter smiled weakly. "Yeah. I will."
Then he left.
Win stayed by the lake a while longer, watching the sky change colors, before finally heading home.
That evening, Ter reached home quietly.
He slipped off his shoes, moved through the house without making a sound, and went straight to his room. From under his bed, he pulled out his LEGO dog.
He sat on the floor, holding it close.
Ter hugged lego against his chest, resting his chin on its head. When he held it like this, his thoughts slowed. The noise inside his mind faded.
When he played with his dog, he forgot everything bad.
The fights.
The mistakes.
The expectations.
He loved his dog more than he ever said out loud.
Dinner was quiet.
His father wasn't home yet.
Only Ter and his mother sat at the table. Plates clinked softly. The house felt still.
Midway through the meal, Ter spoke.
"Mom?"
"Yes?"
"We got a school project. It has to be in a team." He hesitated. "I teamed up with my friend Win."
"Hmm," his mother replied calmly.
Ter swallowed. "Win asked if we could do part of the project at our house."
"So?" she asked.
"…So can he come over?"
"Yes."
Just like that.
Ter stared at her in shock.
No questions.
No warnings.
No long explanations.
He finished his food quietly and returned to his room, LEGO still in his hands, murmuring softly to himself.
Sometimes, silence answered more than words ever could.