Juni didn't come to the bus stop the next morning. Elian noticed immediately.
He stood beside the bench longer than necessary, checking the street twice before sitting down. The minutes stretched. The battered blue bus approached on schedule.
Still no Juni. Elian boarded alone. The window seat felt wider than it should have.
He spent the ride watching the city pass, no longer soothing—just empty. His reflection stared back at him in the scratched glass, unsettled by the quiet.
At school, Elian scanned the hallways instinctively. Found Juni in class. Juni didn't look up.
During group work, Elian waited—giving Juni space, telling himself that was the right thing to do.
But when he glanced over, Juni's desk was angled away.
Subtle. Deliberate.
The teacher called for partners. Juni chose someone else. Elian felt the shift like a cold draft through an open door.
The cafeteria buzzed. Elian stood with his tray, scanning the room. Juni sat near the window—but not with him.
Elian hesitated. Then turned away. He ate at an empty table, appetite gone.
After the last class, Elian found Juni at his locker. "…Did I do something?" Elian asked quietly.
Juni froze.
For a moment, he didn't turn around. "…No," Juni said. The word came too fast. Elian waited. Juni closed his locker carefully. Then faced him. "I just—" He stopped, exhaled. "People noticed."
Elian frowned. "Noticed what?"
"…Us," Juni said. His gaze flicked down the hall. "Sitting together. Walking together."
The words stung more than Elian expected.
"I didn't think—"
"I know," Juni said quickly. "It's not your fault." That made it worse.
Juni shifted his bag higher on his shoulder. "I just need a bit of space," he said, voice steady but thin. "I don't want trouble."
Elian nodded, even though something in his chest resisted. "…Okay."
Juni hesitated. "Thank you." He walked away.
That evening, Elian sat on his bed, staring at the wall. He replayed the week in fragments—bus rides, quiet conversations, the ease that had crept in without warning.
He had assumed comfort was harmless. He hadn't considered the cost.
For the first time, Elian understood something important. Caring wasn't the same as protecting.
And wanting to help didn't mean knowing how.