[Scene: A bright classroom. Students chatting. Desks in place. Whispering fills the air.]
[SFX: Door opens softly. Footsteps.]
[R steps in. Hood up, earphones hanging. She walks calmly.]
As R stepped into the classroom, the energy instantly shifted.
[Students turn. Murmurs start.]
Heads turned. Whispers rippled through the room. A few girls rushed toward her, crowding in, throwing questions her way with wide eyes and shocked expressions.
But R didn’t stop. She didn’t speak.
At that moment, H stood up from his seat.
H — the class clown. The boy who never took anything seriously. The one who constantly teased R, though everyone knew he had a not-so-secret crush on her.
But today… he wasn’t joking.
His eyes were locked on R — sharp, unreadable, intense.
It wasn’t his usual playful stare. It felt different.
And that difference made R freeze.
Something about that gaze stirred something in her chest.
It was familiar.
Too familiar.
It reminded her of that night — the night when everything changed.
He wasn’t smiling this time. His face was cold. Serious. Almost warning.
As if daring anyone in that room to say one more word to R.
As if he’d eliminate them right there.
R kept her pace steady and walked straight to her seat, ignoring the chaos building around her.
But even as she sat, her thoughts were spinning.
> “I’ve felt that gaze before.
It was familiar… but from where?
Where did I experience it before?”
She couldn’t remember.
Meanwhile, the entire class was buzzing. Quietly gossiping, throwing glances, but no one dared say anything aloud — not with H sitting like a silent guard.
They were blaming R, of course.
Saying she bullied that junior girl, Diva.
Spinning the story like she was the villain.
The teacher finally entered, calming the noise as he started the lesson.
Things moved smoothly — at first.
But just when it felt like things were settling, R’s name echoed through the corridor.
She was summoned to the Principal’s Office.
The teacher looked at her sharply and asked, “What did you even do?”
R didn’t flinch.
Didn’t explain.
Just said coldly, “Not your concern.”
That was it.
The teacher lost it. He grabbed a duster from the table and threw it straight at her.
She leaned slightly to the side — it missed.
The class gasped.
But then — H stood up. Without a word, he grabbed the same duster and hurled it back at the teacher.
It hit the teacher’s head. Clean.
Everyone froze.
H didn’t flinch.
He just looked straight at the teacher like it was personal.
That was his revenge.
For R.
Because to H — R wasn’t just a classmate.
She was someone different.
But........
[R looks at H. The classroom has gone completely silent.]
[Just for a moment, time feels like it stops. The music, the noise — gone.]
R’s eyes meet H’s.
There’s no smirk on his face. No sarcasm.
Just… quiet loyalty.
He doesn’t say a word.
He doesn’t have to.
And in that silence, she saw something…
Not anger.
Not pride.
But a softness.
A memory.
A feeling she couldn’t name —
But didn’t need to.
[R gives the smallest nod. Her expression softens — just a little.]
She doesn’t thank him.
But the look in her eyes says everything.
Cause with that single throw, he made sure she felt safe again.
[H returns to his seat, brushing it off like nothing happened.]
[R walks toward the door, slow and calm.]
The storm had passed.
Then same day something new had just begun.
[Lights fade. Scene ends quietly.]
乁༼☯‿☯✿༽ㄏ
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