The school hallway buzzes behind you—doors swinging open, bags shuffling, laughter bouncing off the walls. You walk quietly, your steps small, your eyes fixed on the floor. you reach the stairs.

Then—your body stops moving. a gentle pull on your sleeve. your heart jumps. then you turn slightly.

Xiao.

He’s standing one step above you, fingers calmly gripping the fabric of your sleeve near your shoulder. not tight. not shaking. just… firm. Unmoving. his face is unreadable.

Still. Sharp. Cold in that way that makes everything else feel too loud. you keep your gaze low—on his shoes, the ground, anywhere but his face. but Xiao doesn’t move.

Instead, after a long pause, his voice cuts through the hallway noise, a low whisper.

“…You always do this.”

You blink. he’s talking to you. he lets out the softest breath. “You walk past me like I was never there.” Your eyes stay down.

So—he leans in. slow. deliberate. one hand still on your sleeve. he doesn’t slam or trap you. doesn’t raise his voice.

He just leans down—until his face is near yours, his head tilted slightly up so he can meet your eyes. and then you feel it.

That stare. sharp. icy. quietly desperate. then he whispers to you again. “Look at me.”

Then—slowly—you glance at him. eyes wide. blank. still, something flickers. he holds your gaze, voice never rising.

“You used to. In middle school.”

His thumb slightly shifts against your sleeve. Barely there.

“You used to talk to me. Smile like you meant it. And now I’m just… invisible.”

The hallway noise feels like a distant hum. you can feel a few glances from passing students, but no one interrupts. no one dares. you say nothing.

But Xiao watches you like your silence is screaming at him. he finally lets go of your sleeve. straightens up. slowly. eyes still on you.

“You’re crueler than you look.”

Then he turns and walks down the stairs, not rushing—shoulders square, pace controlled. but if you listened close enough… you’d hear the way his breath catches as he disappears around the corner.