By the time the rain softened, the campus had changed its mood.
The courtyard looked rinsed. The banners drooped like tired flags. The puddles spread wide and shallow, reflecting the gray sky like a warning disguised as calm.
Students began leaving the hallway shelter in small groups, laughter returning cautiously, like they were testing whether the storm had truly ended.
The Water Festival had not ended the way anyone imagined.
It hadn't ended with a final water fight or a closing song.
It ended with rain that felt too intentional.
And with the kind of fear that didn't belong in a festival.
XH stepped out under the overhang, breathing steady now, shoulders still damp, hair dripping in tiny trails down the back of his neck. His shirt clung to his skin, and he felt exposed in a way that had nothing to do with being wet.
Kitty walked beside him quietly.
June hovered near the group, not too far, not too close, like she was guarding her pride while still guarding him.
JP immediately announced, "Okay, we clean up, we eat, and then we pretend today was normal."
TZ scoffed. "Nothing about today was normal."
JP grinned. "Exactly. That's why we pretend."
The Headmaster's staff gave instructions, pointing students toward booths that needed packing and equipment that needed drying. People groaned but moved anyway, because something about the storm had made everyone more obedient. Or maybe more superstitious.
Health track students naturally clustered together, as they always did.
Not because they were arrogant.
Because when the world shook, they trusted the same hands.
XH grabbed a rolled banner pole and carried it toward the storage room. NS and TZ followed with folded tables. JP carried a box of soaked plastic cups and complained dramatically like it was the hardest labor anyone had ever done.
Kitty and June ended up carrying the same stack of towels.
It happened without planning.
It happened because there were not enough hands.
And because fate loved small traps.
June held the front of the towel stack. Kitty held the back.
Their fingers did not touch.
Their eyes did not meet.
But they walked in the same rhythm, and that rhythm felt strange, like being forced to breathe together.
The storage room was cramped and dim. The floor was wet near the entrance, and the air smelled like damp fabric and cheap detergent.
June placed the towels down and exhaled hard. "I hate being cold."
Kitty responded calmly, "Then stop acting like you don't feel it."
June froze slightly, then turned. "What?"
Kitty was not looking at her aggressively.
Kitty's face was neutral. Her voice was soft.
"You act like you don't feel anything," Kitty said. "Cold, fear, jealousy. Like if you admit it, you lose."
June's eyes sharpened instantly. "I don't get jealous."
Kitty finally looked at her.
Not mocking.
Not cruel.
Just honest.
"You do," Kitty said. "You just call it pride."
June's cheeks flushed, and for a second it looked like she might snap back with something sharp.
Then June's face softened in a way that surprised even herself.
She looked away. "You talk like you know me."
Kitty's voice stayed quiet. "I'm watching you. The same way you're watching me."
June swallowed.
The room hummed with silence.
Outside, students laughed and shouted and dragged equipment. But inside the storage room, it felt like everything slowed down.
June's voice dropped. "Today… when he couldn't breathe."
Kitty's posture stiffened slightly.
June continued anyway, because she had already stepped too far to retreat.
"I didn't care about anything else," June admitted. "Not you. Not rumors. Not the festival. I just… I just needed him to be okay."
Kitty's throat tightened.
Kitty didn't want to be moved by June's honesty.
But she was.
Because it sounded real.
Kitty whispered, "Me too."
June looked at her quickly.
Kitty lowered her gaze, fingers curling around the edge of a towel like it was something stable.
June's voice trembled slightly, then sharpened again as a defense. "So what do we do?"
Kitty answered without hesitating. "We stop pretending nothing is happening."
June laughed softly, but it wasn't happy. "That's easy for you. You're calm."
Kitty's eyes lifted. "Calm isn't easy. Calm is how I keep myself from breaking."
June stared at her.
Then, quieter, June said, "Do you love him?"
Kitty's breath caught.
Not dramatic.
Not obvious.
Just a small pause that said too much.
June noticed immediately.
Kitty didn't answer.
June stepped closer. "Kitty."
Kitty's voice was barely audible. "That question is not fair."
June's eyes flashed. "Nothing about this is fair."
Kitty looked at her then, eyes steady, voice low. "You asked if I love him. Ask yourself if you do."
June's lips parted.
She didn't answer either.
Because if she did, the story would change.
And both of them were terrified of the story changing.
They stood there for another moment, then Kitty picked up the last towel and shifted it onto her arm.
"We should go," Kitty said softly.
June nodded.
They left the storage room without finishing the conversation.
But the conversation remained inside them like a second heartbeat.
Night Returns to Campus 2
By evening, the campus had dried enough to feel normal again.
But nobody felt normal.
The festival was over, but the after-feeling lingered, like water still trapped in shoes.
XH walked back to his dorm with the boys. They were tired, hair still damp, energy low.
JP talked too much, trying to keep the mood light. "Tomorrow, we train. Tonight, we eat. That's our religion."
TZ laughed. "You and food."
NS stayed quiet, walking slightly behind.
XH noticed the way NS's gaze kept drifting to Kitty whenever she was in view, the way his face tightened when she laughed at something June said.
XH didn't call him out.
Not yet.
Because some secrets demanded patience.
They ate cheap noodles in the cafeteria, the kind that tasted like salt and comfort. Rain tapped softly against windows again, lighter now, like the sky was apologizing for earlier.
June sat two tables away with Kitty, NC, Cherry, Anna, and Jihye.
XH tried not to look.
He failed.
Because June's laughter pulled him like gravity.
Because Kitty's calm pulled him like a tide.
After dinner, they all dispersed.
Campus lights flickered on.
The night grew softer.
And loneliness returned, the way it always did after big events.
XH lay on his bed staring at the ceiling.
His phone buzzed.
A message from Kitty.
Kitty: are you breathing okay now?
XH stared at the screen for a second too long.
Then typed.
XH: yeah. i'm okay. thanks for earlier.
Kitty: don't make it "earlier". make it "always". tell someone if it happens again.
XH hesitated, then typed.
XH: you're someone.
Kitty didn't reply immediately.
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Then appeared again.
Kitty: i know. but i want you to say it out loud someday.
XH swallowed.
His phone buzzed again.
June.
June: don't pretend today didn't happen.
XH stared at her message.
It was almost the same as Kitty's.
Different tone.
Same demand.
He typed slowly.
XH: i'm not pretending. i'm just trying not to hurt anyone.
June replied instantly.
June: hurting us by delaying is still hurting.
XH's chest tightened slightly.
Not a panic.
Not a scare.
A weight.
He put his phone down.
Then picked it back up.
He typed to June.
XH: can we talk tomorrow?
June: yes. but not in public.
XH: okay.
He stared at the screen, then realized his hands were shaking slightly.
Not from fear.
From inevitability.
Boys' Room: Truth Wrapped in Jokes
Later that night, JP dragged everyone into the same room again.
Not for training.
For talking.
TZ lay on the floor scrolling his phone, laughing at memes. HS sat quietly sipping water. Andrew leaned against the wall, looking like he was mentally solving ten problems at once.
NS sat near the window.
XH sat on the bed.
JP stared at XH like a prosecutor. "So."
TZ groaned. "Don't start."
JP ignored him. "You got two messages today."
XH's eyes widened slightly. "How do you know?"
JP grinned. "Because you smiled at your phone like an idiot twice."
TZ laughed. "True."
XH frowned. "I didn't smile."
NS's voice was low. "You did."
XH went quiet.
JP leaned forward. "Listen. I don't care who you pick. I care that you pick before the campus picks for you."
XH swallowed.
TZ added, "And before engineering guys start running their mouth again."
NS finally spoke directly to XH. "You need to stop being a safe place for everyone and start being honest."
XH stared at him. "What do you mean?"
NS's jaw tightened. "I mean you try so hard to keep peace that you create more tension. You can't be everyone's comfort."
XH felt something sharp in that sentence.
Not because it was cruel.
Because it was accurate.
JP slapped his own knee. "Exactly. And when you keep delaying, girls like Thoon and HTN will start thinking they can steal the story."
TZ nodded. "And they will try."
Andrew's voice was calm. "Tomorrow, we focus on the match. But after the match, you talk. Properly."
XH whispered, "What if talking ruins everything?"
NS's voice was quiet. "Everything is already ruined if you never talk."
The room fell silent.
JP softened his tone slightly. "Bro. You don't have to be perfect. You just have to be real."
XH looked down at his hands.
Outside, the rain started again.
Light.
Then slightly heavier.
Like the sky was practicing rhythm.
XH inhaled slowly.
His chest felt tight, but manageable.
He didn't mention it.
He just listened to the rain and felt the story pressing forward.
Closing
That night, Kitty lay awake staring at her phone.
June lay awake staring at her ceiling.
XH lay awake staring at the space between two messages.
And somewhere in Campus 2, rumors were already spreading about the Water Festival.
About who ran after who.
About who stood too close.
About XH breathing strangely.
About Kitty and June both looking like they were ready to fight the world for the same person.
The campus loved romance like it loved drama.
It fed on updates like it fed on gossip.
And now the story had given it something fresh.
Not a confession.
Not a kiss.
Something worse.
A crack.
Because once a crack appears, everyone starts watching the wall, waiting to see who breaks first.
And in the quiet after the rain, XH finally understood something he had refused to admit.
The Water Festival was never about water.
It was about what water revealed.
And it had revealed too much to take back.