It had been raining all afternoon.
Thunder rolled above the school like a growl in the sky, shaking the windows of Room 203.

Sprout leaned back in his chair, earphones in, pretending to focus on a textbook.
But every so often, his eyes flicked toward the bed on the other side of the room.

Looey sat there, knees drawn up, notebook pressed tightly to his chest.
He’d been unusually still for a long time.
His lips moved faintly — whispering something to himself.

Then the thunder cracked again.

Loud. Sudden.

Looey flinched hard.

The notebook slipped from his grip and hit the floor with a thud.
Looey jolted forward to grab it — and in that split second, his oversized hoodie lifted slightly, revealing the hem of his shorts… and something else.

Sprout saw it.

A flash of red.
Thin lines. Fresh.

Across the pale skin of Looey’s upper thigh.

For a moment, the world stopped.

Sprout’s headphones slid off his ears.

“…Looey.”

Looey froze.

Slowly, he looked up. His face had gone pale.

  “You saw…”

Sprout stood, his voice low but firm.
“What was that?”

Looey panicked.
He scrambled back onto the bed, yanking the hoodie down to cover his legs. His hands shook.

  “Don’t—don’t ask. Just… forget it, please—”

His voice cracked.

Sprout stepped forward. Not too close. Not yet.

  “You did that to yourself?”

Looey didn’t answer. But he didn’t deny it either.

His breath hitched. His eyes brimmed, then spilled over.

  “I didn’t mean for you to see—It’s just—it helps—”
  “I don’t want to feel so heavy all the time…”

He clutched his arms tightly, as if trying to hold himself together.

Sprout felt his throat tighten.

This wasn’t just the quiet kid anymore.
This wasn’t just some background student with a diary.

This was someone who was screaming — silently.

---

Sprout sat down at the edge of the bed.

There was a long pause.

Then, quietly, he said:

  “…It’s not supposed to help, you know.”

Looey turned away.

  “You don’t get it.”

“I don’t,” Sprout admitted.
“But I see it now.”

He stared down at his hands.

  “I see you.”

Those three words landed softly, but they hit hard.

Looey blinked. His whole body trembled.

For the first time, he looked Sprout directly in the eyes.

And for a moment, Looey’s mask — that quiet, empty expression — cracked just a little.

---

That night, the rain didn’t stop.
But for Looey, the storm inside quieted — just a little.

And Sprout, lying awake in the bed beside him, made a silent promise to himself:

*He won’t carry this alone anymore.*

---

>>>>To be continued…