As if sensing his gaze, Kla turned around. Their eyes locked — only for a heartbeat — but it was enough.

A sudden sensation surged through Tan, drowning him in their depths, not willing to let him go. It was as if water had closed over his skin, pulling him into an invisible current, suffocating, weightless and terrifying. He gasped audibly, snapping his head away as if burned and tried to get his bearings.

Yu, completely oblivious to Tan's inner turmoil, was busy scrolling through his phone beneath the desk, more invested in campus gossip than the lecture, as usual.

"Ai Tan," Yu whispered, barely looking up. "Heard the new kid's weird."

That piqued Tan's curiosity, despite himself. "What do you mean by 'weird'?"

Yu frowned at his phone. "He lives alone in XX Dorm — like, the whole room to himself. No roommates. No family mentioned. And he's not on social media either. No Instagram. No Facebook. No Twitter. Not even Line until the professor made him get one."

Tan blinked. "That's not that strange. Some people just like their privacy." Unlike you, he added in his head. He wasn't going to say that aloud of course.

"Maybe," Yu said, unconvinced. "But come on — this is our generation. Even monks have Line these days."

Tan didn't respond. Instead, he found his gaze drawn again to Kla's silhouette. The slight curve of his spine, the hair that curtained half his face, the way he never quite met anyone's eyes. There was a story there — one Tan couldn't shake off. And one he felt compelled by some unknown force to unravel.

The rest of the lecture blurred. The professor's voice faded into a distant hum, and before Tan knew it, the closing announcement caught him off guard.

"...and remember, the Annual Faculty Concert will count as your practical exam this semester. It's scheduled for next month. You'll work in groups of three to compose and perform an original piece. I'll send the groupings in the class chat shortly. Good Luck!"

Yu gave an exaggerated sigh as they packed up. "I hope I get stuck with you. You owe me a top grade, Tan."

Tan smirked. "You mean I do all the work while you get to slack off again?"

Yu grinned, unabashed. "Teamwork makes the dream work, right?"

As they made their way to the cafeteria, Yu's phone buzzed with the newly posted group list. He let out a triumphant cheer.

"Looks like my prayer has been answered," Yu announced, flashing the screen. "We're in the same group!"

Tan raised an eyebrow. "Who's the third?"

Yu paused, then gave a low whistle. "Kla Rattanapisut."

Tan's steps slowed. "Really?"

Yu nodded enthusiastically. "Looks like we're going to be working with Mystery Boy. This'll be interesting."

After a quick lunch — with Tan paying for Yu as promised — they decided to head to the practice room. Yu had already created a Line group and scheduled their first meeting for 4 p.m., after managing to get Kla's ID from the professor.

When they arrived, Kla was already waiting inside, seated by the far window, fingers hovering over the strings of a guitar like they were sacred.

"Bathroom," Yu said quickly, already halfway out the door. "Be back in a sec!"

Tan sighed, watching his friend vanish with little remorse for leaving him alone in an awkward silence.

He turned to Kla and offered a small, polite smile. "I'm Tan Phongthawat. You can just call me Tan."

Kla glanced at him, eyes unreadable. "Kla," he said softly, then turned back to the guitar without another word.

Retracting his hand awkwardly, Tan stood in place for a beat too long, unsure whether to sit or speak. He muttered under his breath, "Where the hell are you when I actually need you, Ai Yu?" He needed Yu's skills in dispersing the awkwardness that filled the air.

And then — music.

The soft strum of strings broke the silence, a fragile yet intoxicating melody filling the room like mist. Tan froze.

The tune was haunting, ethereal — like something pulled from a dream, something that shouldn't exist. The scent of frangipani drifted to his nose, phantom-like. His breath caught as images flashed behind his eyes: moonlight on water, a distant bell, the sensation of falling.

His heart raced.

Where had he heard this before?

Just then, the door burst open.

"Holy crap, that was beautiful!" Yu declared. "Was that your composition?"

Tan flinched, nearly dropping the sheet music he'd been holding. "You scared the shit out of me."

Yu ignored him, starry-eyed as he looked at Kla. "Seriously though, that tune... you wrote that yourself?"

Kla gave a small shrug. "Umm," was all he said.

"Then we've got a head start," Yu beamed. "We just need lyrics now. Let's meet again tomorrow, same time, to brainstorm. I've got some errands to run. Later!"

And just like that, he was gone again.

Tan and Kla were alone once more.

"Will you be heading back now?" Tan asked, uncertain.

Kla shook his head, eyes focused on the guitar strings. "I'll stay a bit longer."

It was the longest sentence Kla had said all day.

Tan hesitated, then gathered his things. "Alright... see you tomorrow."

Seeing no response, he left.

Outside, the evening sun cast long shadows across the campus. Tan walked to the parking lot, still humming the melody under his breath. It clung to him, a stubborn echo in the corners of his mind.

As he drove home, his fingers tapped the steering wheel in rhythm with the tune. Snatches of memory flickered behind his eyelids: the brush of silk, a flicker of firelight, the taste of river water.

His chest tightened. His heartbeat pounded like a trapped bird against his ribs.

He didn't know the song — but somehow, his soul did.