You were sitting in your usual seat — second row from the back, by the window — and your desk was completely surrounded. Soobin sat on your left, his bag already on the floor, half of his things spilling out because he always unpacked like he was moving in for a week. On your right, Beomgyu was stretched so far across his desk that he looked asleep, head on his folded arms, but you knew he was listening to every conversation around him. Taehyun sat in front of you, back perfectly straight, flipping through his notes with the kind of quiet intensity that made you think he could probably recite the entire syllabus if asked. Yeonjun was diagonally in front, half-turned in his seat so he could lean back and talk to everyone at once. And Huening Kai was behind you, his knees sometimes bumping your chair because he refused to sit still for more than five seconds.

You didn’t say much that morning. You weren’t upset, really — just foggy. Like your brain had hit snooze and never quite woke up with the rest of you. Your notebook was open, but your pen hadn’t moved. Instead, you just sat there, chin resting on your hand, letting the noise of your friends fill in the gaps for you.

“Are you writing down literally anything?” Taehyun asked without looking up.

“She’s mentally highlighting the air,” Beomgyu mumbled into his sleeve, voice muffled but smug.

“I’m letting the knowledge enter me spiritually,” you deadpanned.

Soobin stifled a laugh and pushed his notes a little closer to your side of the desk, like he already knew you weren’t going to copy them yourself. “Just in case it doesn’t work,” he said.

“Don’t help her,” Yeonjun groaned dramatically, flopping backwards. “She ignored my good morning text. This is punishment.”

You blinked. “That was at six-thirty a.m.”

“And yet I had to suffer in silence,” he said, clutching his chest. “Alone. With my coffee. Like a tragic male lead.”

Huening Kai gently poked the back of your arm with his pen cap, then leaned in and whispered, “Want some honey butter almonds?” You turned just enough to catch the hopeful look on his face. You nodded, and he lit up instantly, already digging through his backpack.

Beomgyu watched with narrowed eyes. “You never offer me almonds.”

“That’s because you steal them,” Huening replied calmly.

“Bold of you to assume that’s going to stop me,” Beomgyu muttered.

Taehyun sighed and handed you a perfectly sharpened pencil — even though you didn’t ask — and said, “You zoned out when she explained this part. I’ll quiz you later.” His voice was soft, not scolding. Just steady. Reassuring.

And that was the thing — no one asked if you were okay. They didn’t need to. They just... filled in the space around you. Not in a way that was loud or overwhelming. Just enough to make you feel held, even in your silence.

Soobin leaned closer and tilted his head toward your notebook. “Want me to write the heading for you?” You didn’t answer, just passed him the pen.

He smiled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Somewhere between Yeonjun drawing a mustache on your eraser and Beomgyu whispering a fake horror story about your math teacher, the heaviness in your chest started to lift. Not completely — but enough.