It didn't happen all at once.
It happened in glances.
Elian felt it before he understood it. The way conversations paused when he and Juni entered a room. The way laughter softened—not stopped, just… adjusted. The way a few faces lingered a second too long before looking away.
Nothing overt. Nothing cruel. Just awareness. Juni noticed too.
Elian could tell by the way his posture shifted—shoulders drawing in, steps growing more careful as if he were measuring how much space he was allowed to take.
They were halfway down the hallway when someone murmured behind them—
"Isn't that the transfer?"
"And the one who always sits by the window?"
Juni's pace slowed. Elian didn't stop walking. He didn't look back. He adjusted his stride just enough that Juni didn't fall behind.
During group discussion, a girl across the room raised her hand. "Are you from Country S?" she asked, tone light but curious. The room went quiet.
Elian nodded. "Yes."
A few students exchanged looks. Juni's pen paused mid-sentence.
"And you two—" the girl hesitated, glancing between them. "Did you know each other before?"
"No," Elian said evenly. "We met here."
The teacher redirected the conversation before it could stretch further. But something had shifted.
At lunch, Juni hesitated near the table. Elian noticed immediately.
"We don't have to sit here, " Juni said quietly.
Elian met his eyes. "Do you want to move?"
Juni shook his head. "…I just didn't expect it to feel this loud."
Elian nodded once. Then pulled out the chair beside him. Juni sat. Halfway through the meal, Juni's gaze flicked nervously around the room. Elian recognized the signs now—the tightening jaw, the restless fingers.
"Do you want to leave early?" Elian asked softly. Juni hesitated. Then shook his head again.
"No."
A breath.
"I want to try staying."
Elian smiled faintly.
"Okay."
They finished eating. Slowly. Deliberately.
Outside, the bus stop buzzed with students. Someone laughed too loudly nearby. Juni flinched, then steadied himself. Elian didn't shield him this time. Instead, he stayed close—present, visible, unashamed.
Juni noticed."…You don't mind?" he asked quietly.
"Mind what?"
"…People assuming things."
Elian considered the question. Then answered honestly.
"No."
Juni searched his face. Found nothing hidden there. As the bus pulled away, Juni leaned back against the seat, eyes closed.
"…I forgot how scary it is," he murmured.
"What?" Elian asked.
"Being comfortable," Juni said. "Because then you notice when it might be taken away."
Elian felt the truth of that settle heavily in his chest. He glanced at Juni—so careful, so brave.
"…We'll notice together," he said.
Juni smiled faintly."…That helps."
As the city slid past the window, Elian realized something quietly unsettling. Caring about someone didn't just change you. It made you visible. And visibility came with a cost he was only just beginning to understand.