Unspoken

CHAPTER 11 : Insecurities

THIRD PERSON POV

Yesterday had left Y/n in a haze of confusion, her mind swirling with questions she couldn't answer. Rajo's words had lingered in her thoughts, echoing in her head. And now, the events of the day before — Mikha's gentle care toward Jaz — only deepened the uncertainty she was feeling. Mikha's warmth and attentiveness toward her friend, so natural and effortless, made Y/n wonder if she had been reading too much into their own interactions. Was Mikha's kindness something special, or did she treat everyone that way?

Y/n leaned against the fence near the volleyball courts, her gaze fixed on Mikha as she wiped the sweat from her face with a towel, chatting with her teammates before heading off to the locker room. She and Mikha had spent so much time together these past few weeks. Mikha helping her see her worth. Mikha making sure she took care of herself. But no matter how much Y/n got closer to Mikha, something always seemed to pull her back.

She had spent the entire day trying to push the nagging thoughts aside, hoping for a chance to talk to Mikha. Maybe if she could just spend some time with her — just the two of them — Y/n could finally figure things out. Perhaps this time, it would be different. Maybe, this time, Mikha's kindness toward her was more than just how she treated everyone.

As Mikha started walking toward the locker room, Y/n pushed herself off the fence and took a deep breath. She had waited long enough.

"Mikha," Y/n called softly, her voice barely above the noise of the courts.

Mikha turned around at the sound of her name, her face lighting up in that smile that always made Y/n's heart race.

"Hey, Y/n!" Mikha greeted, her voice warm, and Y/n felt her chest tighten in that all-too-familiar way.

Y/n fought the urge to step back. She wasn't sure what it was, but every time Mikha smiled at her, Y/n felt like she was standing on the edge of something she couldn't name.

"Are you free for a little while?" Y/n asked, her voice betraying more hope than she intended.

Mikha paused for a brief moment, her smile faltering slightly as she glanced down at her phone. Y/n's heart skipped a beat as she braced herself for the inevitable rejection.

"I wish I could, but I actually have something to do," Mikha said, a hint of regret in her voice. "Jaz is going to miss some of her classes. She asked me to get her notes so she doesn't fall behind while she's recovering."

Y/n nodded, even though she felt the weight of disappointment settling in her chest. Mikha was always the responsible one, the one who always made sure everyone around her was taken care of. She couldn't fault her for that, but it didn't stop the pang of frustration that rose up inside her.

"I get it," Y/n said, her voice forced as she fought to keep the disappointment from showing. "I hope Jaz feels better soon."

Mikha's brow furrowed slightly, her lips pulling down into a frown as if she hated to let Y/n down. "I'm really sorry, Y/n," she said, sincerity evident in her eyes. "I hate that I can't hang out with you today. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

Y/n's smile flickered, but she quickly masked it. "It's fine. Don't worry about it. I'll be alright."

Mikha hesitated, her gaze lingering on Y/n, as though there was more she wanted to say. But after a beat, she nodded. "I'll text you later, okay?"

Y/n nodded, the weight in her chest growing heavier. "Sure," she replied quietly, though it felt like her voice wasn't quite her own.

She watched Mikha walk away, the distance between them growing with every step. The light from the fading sun seemed to dim as Mikha disappeared into the locker room, leaving Y/n standing in the quiet of the empty courts. Y/n stood there for a moment, feeling the heaviness of the unspoken words between them.

Maybe Mikha had just been nice. Maybe she was just being Mikha — always caring for others, always putting them first. Maybe Y/n had been reading too much into the little moments they shared. Maybe there wasn't anything more to it.

That night, back in her dorm room, Y/n sat at her desk, staring at her notebook. The pen hovered above the page, her mind swirling with every insecurity that she had tried to bury.

"Maybe I've been fooling myself, clinging to the hope that it's something more. Perhaps I'm just another face in the crowd, an echo in her life that fades into silence. I'll never be the one who stays, the one who matters."

Y/n closed her eyes, wishing for peace, but finding only the quiet hum of her fears — that she would always be the one left behind.