Day three of the group project.
The library air felt thinner today. Heavier.
Keon felt it the moment he sat down — a kind of pressure, like the group was sitting on a time bomb that was almost out of seconds. Maybe it was the way Reina kept glancing at Hina. Or how Hina kept trying to make herself smaller, even though she was the only one who had shown up on time.
Kira and Daiki strolled in together, loudly discussing whether or not you could skateboard through an airport without getting arrested. Fuyu followed, silent as usual, giving everyone the same bored look he gave textbooks.
Keon tried to refocus them.
"Okay. We're behind on the outline. We need someone to do the second section—the urban structure breakdown."
"I'll do it," Hina said softly.
Keon smiled. "Thanks. I'll help—"
"You'll what?" Reina's voice cut through the table like a whip.
Everyone paused.
Reina lowered her phone and looked directly at him. "You'll help her?"
Keon blinked. "Yeah? Why not?"
She laughed, but it was the brittle kind—the kind that splinters on the edges. "Of course. She barely says a word, but suddenly she's your favorite person in the group. What did she do? Blink at you twice?"
Hina's fingers froze over her tablet.
Keon frowned. "Reina, what's your problem?"
"My problem is that I'm the only one taking this seriously while she plays the victim and gets praised for it. You act like she's helpless."
"I didn't say that," Keon said, calmly but firmly.
"You didn't have to," Reina snapped. "You treat her like some wounded puppy."
There was a silence.
And then, for the first time in three days—three whole days of biting her tongue and shrinking in on herself—Hina spoke.
But not softly.
Not shakily.
Just quiet, steady, and terrifyingly clear.
"…I'm not a puppy."
Reina turned, startled. So did the others.
Hina looked up from her tablet, eyes locking with Reina's for the first time. Her hands were still, but her voice didn't shake. "I didn't ask for anyone's help. I just wanted to work. You were too busy looking down on everyone to notice."
Reina blinked. Her mouth opened slightly—just enough to realize she hadn't expected that. No one had.
"You're scared," Hina continued. "Not of me. Of him." She glanced at Keon, then back at Reina. "Because he sees through you."
Even Daiki stopped chewing.
Fuyu raised an eyebrow.
Kira looked between them like this was the best show he'd seen all semester.
Reina stood there, frozen.
Keon wanted to say something—but he didn't. Not yet.
Hina calmly returned to her tablet. "I'll handle the section. Keon doesn't need to help."
The finality of her tone ended the conversation.
The rest of the meeting passed in an eerie kind of silence.
Reina didn't speak again. Not to Keon. Not to anyone. She just stared at her screen, occasionally typing, mostly fuming.
Hina, meanwhile, worked quietly as always—but something about her was different now. She sat a little straighter. Breathed a little easier.
Keon kept glancing her way, unsure if he should say anything. She didn't look upset. Just… done with being small.
When the meeting ended and the others filtered out, Reina grabbed her things and left without a word.
Nova appeared at Keon's side within seconds.
"Want me to deal with her?" she asked, too casually.
Keon gave her a tired look. "No."
"…Wasn't offering advice," Nova muttered, narrowing her eyes in Reina's direction.
Later that evening, Keon sat at his desk, reading over the group messages.
A new file had appeared in their shared folder.
HINA_URBANBREAKDOWN.doxx
Thorough. Neat. Professional.
He smiled.
Then he saw a second upload.
REINA_INTRO_REVISED.doxx
She hadn't rage-quit the project.
She had gone home, and revised her work.
Keon didn't know what that meant.
But he had a feeling the storm wasn't over yet.