The Academy's Terminally Ill Side Character
Chapter 190: If I’d Met You Before [2]

We both ordered.

She picked a tofu stew with rice and a side of kimchi. I went for a basic curry—extra spice, double portion of rice.

When the food arrived, neither of us spoke for a while.

We just ate.

And honestly? That was better.

Keira took slow, careful bites at first, but once the first spoonful went down, she didn't stop. She wasn't dainty or graceful about it either. Her chopsticks moved quickly, almost like she was scared the food might disappear again.

I didn't say anything. Just let her eat.

Halfway through, she let out a quiet sigh.

"...I was really proud of that lunch, you know."

I glanced up from my plate.

She wasn't crying anymore, but her gaze had dropped to her bowl, unfocused. Her voice was soft, like she wasn't even sure she wanted to be heard.

"I woke up early. Way earlier than I usually do. I steamed the rice twice because the first batch felt too mushy. And the carrots—I cut them into stars because I thought that would be cute. Stupid, huh?"

"It's not stupid," I said.

She looked up, startled, like she hadn't expected a response.

"You made something with care. That's never stupid."

Keira blinked at me, then looked away quickly.

The corner of her lip twitched—somewhere between a scoff and a smile.

"…You're weird."

"I get that a lot."

She took another bite, this one slower.

"I guess I just… I thought it'd be nice. Like, something normal, something sweet. A lunchbox for someone I—"

She stopped.

Chewed.

Swallowed.

Then pushed a piece of tofu around her bowl with her spoon.

"…Forget it."

I didn't push.

If there was one thing I'd learned from years of dealing with messy people and messier emotions, it was this: sometimes silence said more than any line from a movie ever could.

We finished our meals. I paid the bill before she could argue.

She didn't thank me directly, just mumbled something about "next time," which was probably her way of saying she'd cover the tab in the future.

Outside, the air had cooled a little. Late afternoon sun filtered through the trees, casting long shadows on the sidewalk.

We walked again, slower this time.

Not aimless, but not urgent either.

"You know," Keira said after a long pause, "when I saw them eating it… I felt so stupid. Like I was this joke everyone else was in on."

I looked over at her. Her hands were stuffed into the sleeves of her uniform cardigan, her shoulders hunched.

"You weren't the joke, Keira."

She didn't respond right away.

"I wanted to believe that. I really did. But watching them laugh… it was like they were telling me I didn't belong. That no matter how hard I tried to fit in or move on, I'd still be 'that girl who chased Leo, then Ryen.'"

Her voice cracked near the end, but she didn't stop walking.

I kept my eyes forward.

"…Screw them," I said flatly.

She snorted. "Wow. Such a poet."

"I mean it."

"I know." A small pause. "Still made me feel like trash."

I nodded slowly. "Yeah. That's fair."

More silence followed.

We walked until the campus path began to thin out, the trees casting longer shadows now that the sun had started dipping behind the buildings. The breeze was cool and soft, rustling leaves above us in a lazy rhythm.

Then, just as we were about to round the last corner, she spoke again—quiet, almost like a thought slipping past her lips.

"He's a loser."

I blinked. "Again with the 'loser' talk? You really should—"

But before I could finish, she cut in.

"Honestly… I bullied you. Treated you like crap." Her voice was steady, but low. "So why are you still being so nice to me?"

I stopped walking.

Yeah. That was a good question.

Why was I still being nice to her?

I stared down at the sidewalk, thinking about it. At first, it was just something I did on impulse—stepped in, said something, helped out. I thought maybe if I gave her a little nudge, she'd stop being such a pain. That she'd stop throwing her feelings at people who didn't deserve them.

But somehow, things had shifted. Somewhere between arguing in the hallway, watching her eat instant noodles with too much hot sauce, and today—something had changed.

We weren't strangers anymore.

I exhaled through my nose. "I don't know. Maybe I'm just bad at holding grudges."

Keira gave a weak laugh, half-genuine, half-skeptical.

"I mean… you don't actually like me, right?"

I turned to look at her.

She smiled faintly, but her eyes were trying to read me, like she was bracing herself for the answer.

What the hell was she even talking about?

"Your face just now," she murmured. "That's not it, is it? You don't like me like that. Thank goodness."

Something twinged in my chest.

It wasn't sharp, exactly. Just… strange.

Like being handed an empty gift box when you weren't expecting anything in the first place.

I didn't even say anything romantic—but somehow, I felt rejected.

Keira kept walking, her arms crossed lightly over her stomach, like she was trying to protect something.

"But still," she said, slower this time, "it's kind of disappointing."

That caught my attention.

She turned her head just a bit, enough to glance at me with the softest smile I'd seen from her today. Not teasing. Not smug.

Just… a little sad.

"If I'd met you before Leo," she said, "maybe things would've been different."

My breath hitched.

I didn't know what to say to that. I wasn't even sure I was supposed to say anything.

Because how do you respond when someone casually wonders out loud if maybe, just maybe, they would've liked you—if their heart hadn't already been bruised by someone else?

We walked in silence again, but this time it felt heavier.

Not awkward.

Just real.

And a little bittersweet.

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Author Note.

Thanks for the reading the chapter.

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