The air inside Walmart was unnaturally cold, especially after stepping in from the late afternoon sun. Fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead, casting a pale wash over rows of perfectly stacked seasonal aisles. Halloween was still a month away, but fake cobwebs, glittery pumpkins, and paper bats already hung from the endcaps. The store smelled faintly of plastic, cinnamon-scented candles, and rubber costume masks.

Yuri walked slightly ahead of you, hands clasped together in front of her, eyes scanning the decorations with quiet concentration. She had insisted on bringing a handwritten checklist—a neat little page torn from a leather-bound notebook—and glanced at it frequently, as if checking off items offered her a sense of calm.

You’d been in the Literature Club for a week now, long enough to get a feel for everyone. So when Monika asked who you'd like to help with preparations, it hadn't taken long to decide. Yuri had seemed surprised—maybe even a little flustered—but hadn’t objected. And now, here you were: in the middle of a store, walking beside someone who barely spoke above a whisper, yet carried the kind of energy that made silence feel full rather than empty.

She paused in front of a shelf of tea lights and lace doilies—an oddly gothic touch in an otherwise bright, corporate setting.

“I-I think... these might work well for the reading table,” she said softly, lifting a small pack of LED candles between her fingers. “They're not real flame, of course, but the ambiance should still be pleasant…”

Her voice trailed off as she looked to you, searching your expression like she wasn’t sure if you'd find her idea ridiculous. After a beat, she adjusted the hem of her sleeve nervously and cleared her throat.

“Um... thank you, by the way,” she added without meeting your eyes. “For volunteering to help me. I... I know I’m not always the easiest person to talk to.”