After school, Mr. Lee's classroom was quiet, the late afternoon sunlight filtering through the blinds in soft, golden slants. The faint hum of the air conditioner filled the silence, broken only by the occasional scratching of a pen across paper.
The door creaked open, and Ara hesitated, clutching her bag tightly against her chest. She had begged Ningning to come with her, but Ningning had insisted gently that she should face this conversation alone.
Mr. Lee looked up, his expression warm and patient. "Ara. Hi." He set his pen down and folded his hands in front of him. "What can I do for you?"
Ara lingered in the doorway, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Her eyes darted around the empty room, scanning the corners as though searching for hidden eyes.
"Come in," Mr. Lee said softly, his voice calm, almost as if he sensed her hesitation. He gestured to the chair across from his desk. "Sit down if you want. No pressure."
After a moment's pause, Ara stepped forward, perching on the edge of the chair. Her fingers fidgeted with the strap of her bag, her gaze locked on the floor.
Mr. Lee watched her silently for a moment, then spoke again, his voice gentle but firm. "I've noticed you've seemed... different lately. Quieter than usual. It's okay if you don't want to talk about it, but I want you to know... I'm here. Always willing to listen."
Ara's grip on her bag tightened. She swallowed hard before mumbling, "It's nothing. I'm fine."
He didn't push. He simply nodded. "Okay. But if it ever stops being nothing... or if you ever need someone to talk to, my door is always open. No judgment. No pressure."
Slowly, Ara lifted her gaze. For the briefest moment, her eyes met his, hesitation and fear mingling with a fragile trust she barely recognized in herself.
She opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again, shoulders hunching slightly.
Mr. Lee didn't break the silence. He just waited, steady and patient.
Finally, in a voice so small it was almost swallowed by the room, Ara whispered, "It's... just some people. At school. They don't like me."
Mr. Lee's brows drew together in concern, but his tone remained calm. "I'm sorry to hear that. Is it something they're saying? Or doing?"
"Both, I guess." Her fingers twisted together in her lap. "They whisper when I walk by. Laugh. Sometimes... they push my stuff, make me feel..." Her voice broke slightly. "...small."
Mr. Lee's expression softened. "That sounds really hard." His voice carried quiet understanding. "I'm so sorry you've been dealing with that."
Ara gave a small shrug, blinking rapidly to hold back tears.
And in the farthest corner of the room, the hidden presence shifted, unnoticed by either of them... a silent witness to the fragile confession, the room holding its breath with her.
