The Academy's Terminally Ill Side Character
Chapter 144: Nora Hayes [2]

Miss Buttcheeks clasped her hands together. "See? Nora joining! That means you have to join too!"

"That is the opposite of what that means," I said flatly.

"You're outnumbered," Ryen added, nudging me with his elbow. "Three to one."

"I'm not being outnumbered," I snapped. "This isn't a mutiny. I already picked my clubs."

"And yet," Nora said, tilting her head just slightly, "you haven't actually submitted your form yet."

"Technicality," I muttered.

She leaned in a bit closer, voice quieter, but still dead serious. "Then there's still time to reconsider."

I stared at her.

Was she threatening me into joining the Cooking Club?

Was this where my life had gone?

"Y-You know," Miss Buttcheeks stammered, eyes wide, "you don't have to join just for me. I mean… I'd like it if you did. But it's not like I'd cry if you didn't. I mean, not in front of people. Probably."

This. Was. A nightmare.

And the worst part?

I could see it. The future. A Cooking Club where I was constantly surrounded by chaos. Nora accidentally turning the oven into a bomb. Miss Buttcheeks making edible disasters with too much enthusiasm and not enough skill. Ryen somehow turning every meeting into a party-slash-gaming session.

It would be absolute hell.

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Nora's POV

As far back as she could remember, Nora had always been indifferent to the world.

Everything beyond her was colorless—dull, grey, and lifeless.

Like an old film stuck in black and white.

And for the longest time, she believed that's how it would stay.

Until the day she died.

But she had been wrong.

One day, he came into her world.

Ryen.

With nothing more than a smile and his quiet presence, he brought color where there was none. Warmth where there had only been numbness.

He changed everything.

From that day forward, Ryen became her everything.

They'd been childhood friends for years, growing up side by side. Through scraped knees and schoolyard fights, through late-night talks and quiet mornings. He had always been there. Constant. Steady.

From time to time, he'd suggest—gently, always gently—that she should try to make other friends.

Nora never wanted that.

She didn't need anyone else.

But saying no to Ryen…?

That simply didn't exist in her vocabulary.

So she'd tried. Half-hearted attempts at small talk. Hollow smiles at people who didn't matter.

All to please him.

But every time, the end was the same.

The boys were shallow idiots—smiling on the surface while burning with envy underneath, bitter at how close she was to Ryen.

The girls were worse—liars and thieves who only saw Ryen as a prize to be won.

That was how Nora saw it, anyway.

To her, Ryen was the only decent person in this rotten world.

The only one who was honest. Just. Real.

Building connections with others was exhausting. Pretending was a chore. But she still went through the motions because he expected her to.

And this time… the one she was supposed to befriend?

Not good like Ryen.

But not awful either.

If everyone else was negative and Ryen was the only positive, then he was Neutral.

And that alone made him stand out.

The only thing she didn't like was how close he was to Ryen.

But at least, unlike the others, he didn't seem fake. Didn't seem like he wanted to hurt Ryen or take him away.

That was good enough—for now.

And besides, Ryen wanted them to get along.

She didn't know how this guy—Rin Evans—would react if she dropped the cold, aloof mask and actually tried to interact like a normal person.

So, she decided to test the waters.

They were talking about clubs.

That girl… what was her name again?

Ah—Kiera. Right.

Kiera wanted Rin to join the Cooking Club.

Ryen agreed.

That was all the reason she needed.

She glanced up and, for once, spoke.

"The Cooking Club," she said evenly. "I'm joining."

He turned toward her, confused. "Huh?"

He stared like she'd grown a second head.

Then pointed at her. "You. Why?"

As expected.

He's different.

Most people would have just nodded, maybe smiled awkwardly.

But he questioned her. Like he wanted to know her reason. Like it mattered.

She shrugged, adjusting her sleeve with deliberate calm—like this wasn't a moment she'd carefully planned out.

"Cooking seemed… calming."

And it was.

It really was.

It was one of the few things she enjoyed doing, one of the only ways she could stay grounded.

Stirring. Measuring. Watching things rise or melt or turn golden.

There was a peace to it. A rhythm. A kind of control that nothing else offered.

"I want to learn how to make sweet things," she added, still flat and unbothered. "Cakes. Pies. That sort of thing."

It was true.

But she could tell—he didn't quite believe her.

Not completely.

'Interesting.'

Most people would've swallowed her words without thinking.

But not him.

He questioned things. He watched. He thought. He didn't play pretend—and that made her curious.

There was something in him.

Not quite like Ryen, but similar in spirit.

A quiet conviction.

A subtle sense of justice, even if it wasn't as blindingly pure as Ryen's.

Rin Evans.

Nora thought, for the first time in a long while, that she might actually be able to befriend someone outside Ryen.

Maybe.

Just maybe.

She watched him quietly.

Rin Evans.

The way he narrowed his eyes just slightly when he was thinking. The way his brow twitched like he was trying very hard not to say something sarcastic. How he kept glancing at Ryen, like he was waiting for backup.

He wasn't buying it. Not completely.

That was fine.

Nora didn't need him to believe her. Not yet.

She just needed him to see her.

Not the version everyone else saw—the cold, quiet girl who only smiled when Ryen was around. The girl who didn't talk unless spoken to. Who moved through life like she was on autopilot.

But her.

The girl who stayed up late baking when the world got too loud. Who memorized Ryen's favorite desserts. Who still remembered the exact shade of red his face turned the first time she made him a birthday cake from scratch.

She wondered, briefly, if Rin had anyone like that. Anyone who understood him the way she understood Ryen.

He didn't seem like it.

He seemed… lonely.

Not the obvious kind. Not the dramatic, attention-hungry loneliness that made people loud and clingy.

The quiet kind.

The kind that sat in your chest and grew roots.

The kind that made you act like you didn't care even when you did.

And maybe that's why she didn't mind him being near Ryen. Not completely.

He wasn't trying to take Ryen from her.

He wasn't trying to replace her.

He was just… there.

Like her.

Still, this Cooking Club thing…

She glanced at Kiera, who was now busy poking Rin in the side and whispering something about "group bonding" and "aesthetic picnic snacks."

Nora stared at her.

She didn't like her.

Too loud. Too much. Too sparkly.

But harmless.

Annoying, yes—but not threatening.

She turned her gaze back to Rin, who was clearly trying to find a loophole, some escape hatch from this weird ambush they'd all orchestrated.

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