Chapter 3 The Night Discovery
If Oom Eisaya had learned anything in the past forty-eight hours, it was this:
Avoid Bam Saralee.
Avoid eye contact.
Avoid conversations.
Avoid existing within a five-meter radius of her.
It was a solid plan.
A flawless plan.
A plan that lasted exactly… one day.
Because now, at eight forty-seven in the evening, Oom found herself standing outside the Psychology Wellness Club room, holding a stack of architectural plates she absolutely did not need to be delivering.
“…I could leave,” she whispered to herself.
She adjusted the weight in her arms, staring at the slightly open door.
She had stayed late in the architecture building—normal. Expected. Safe.
Then, somehow, her feet had carried her here.
Which was not normal.
This is fine, she told herself. I’m just dropping something off. I’m not here for her. I am not that pathetic.
A pause.
“…I am a little pathetic.”
Oom sighed and nudged the door open with her shoulder.
The room was quiet.
Dimly lit by a single desk lamp near the front, casting soft shadows across the walls. The usual lively atmosphere from earlier was gone, replaced by something calm. Still.
Empty.
“…hello?” Oom called softly.
No response.
Good.
Perfect.
She stepped inside, placing her plates on one of the desks. The air felt different at night—cooler, quieter, like the room itself had exhaled after a long day.
“Okay,” she muttered. “Drop and go. No complications.”
She turned to leave—
And froze.
There was someone in the room.
Oom’s eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light, landing on the couch tucked against the far wall.
Her heart skipped.
Bam Saralee.
She was asleep.
Oom blinked.
Once.
Twice.
She’s… sleeping?
For a moment, Oom just stood there, trying to process the sight in front of her.
Because this—
This was not the Bam Saralee she knew.
The Bam she had seen so far was always composed, upright, perfectly controlled. Even her posture seemed intentional, like she had rehearsed every movement.
But this version—
She was curled slightly on the couch, one arm tucked under her head, her long hair spilling across the cushion in soft waves. Her expression was relaxed, free from the usual tension, her breathing slow and even.
She looked… soft.
Oom swallowed.
This feels illegal.
Like she had accidentally discovered something she wasn’t supposed to see.
“I should go,” Oom whispered to herself.
Yes.
That was the correct decision.
Leave quietly. Pretend this never happened. Preserve whatever dignity she had left.
She took a step back.
And that’s when it happened.
“…don’t…”
Oom froze.
Her eyes snapped back to Bam.
“…leave…”
The word was barely audible. Soft. Fragile.
Oom’s heart stopped.
“Did she just—”
Before she could finish that thought, Bam shifted slightly on the couch, her brows furrowing faintly like she was caught in a dream.
“…stay…”
Oom’s entire brain short-circuited.
Nope. Nope. This is not happening. I am hallucinating. I need to go.
She turned again, ready to make a strategic retreat—
And promptly walked into the edge of a desk.
“Ow—!”
The sound echoed louder than she intended.
Oom froze.
Slowly, she turned back.
Bam was moving.
Her breathing changed—slightly uneven now, her fingers twitching against the cushion.
“Oh no,” Oom whispered.
“I woke her up.”
She took a cautious step forward, heart pounding.
“Senpai?” she called softly. “Bam?”
No response.
Bam’s eyes remained closed.
She wasn’t awake.
But she wasn’t fully asleep either.
“…hey,” Oom tried again, a little unsure now.
She reached out hesitantly, gently touching Bam’s shoulder.
The reaction was immediate.
Bam’s hand shot out.
And grabbed her.
Oom gasped.
“Wha—?!”
Before she could react, Bam pulled her closer—fast, instinctive, like she was holding onto something she didn’t want to lose.
Oom stumbled forward, her balance gone, her free hand instinctively bracing against the couch to keep from falling completely on top of her.
“Senpai—wait—!”
Bam didn’t let go.
Her grip tightened, fingers clutching the fabric of Oom’s shirt.
“…don’t go…”
The words were clearer this time.
Not sharp. Not cold.
Soft.
Pleading.
Oom froze.
Her heart was beating so loudly she was convinced it could be heard from outside the building.
“I—I’m not going anywhere,” she said automatically, even though her brain was still trying to catch up with reality.
Bam shifted again.
And then—
She pulled Oom closer.
Closer.
Until there was no space left between them.
Oom’s breath caught.
Bam’s face pressed into the curve of her neck.
Warm.
Soft.
Real.
Oom stopped functioning.
Her entire body went rigid as Bam settled against her, her breathing slow and steady, each soft exhale brushing against Oom’s skin.
“…safe…”
Oom’s hands hovered awkwardly in the air.
What do I do? What do I do?!
Her brain offered no solutions.
Only panic.
“Senpai,” she whispered, voice barely holding together. “You’re… you’re very close.”
No response.
Of course not.
Because Bam was still asleep.
Or… something like it.
Oom swallowed hard.
She could feel the warmth of Bam’s body, the steady rhythm of her breathing, the way her fingers tightened slightly every time Oom shifted even an inch.
Like she was afraid Oom would disappear.
“…don’t leave…”
Oom’s chest tightened.
There it was again.
That soft, vulnerable tone that didn’t match the person she knew at all.
The Bam Saralee who looked at her like she was a minor inconvenience.
The Bam Saralee who told her to control herself.
This version…
This version sounded like she was holding on for dear life.
“I’m not leaving,” Oom said quietly, before she could stop herself.
Her voice softened.
“I’m right here.”
The words felt strange on her tongue.
Unfamiliar.
But somehow… right.
Bam’s grip loosened just slightly, not enough to let go, but enough to relax.
Her breathing steadied again.
And slowly, gradually, she settled.
Oom stood there, frozen in place, her mind still trying to process what was happening.
This is insane.
This is actually insane.
Bam Saralee—the untouchable, cold, intimidating senpai—
Was currently clinging to her like she was the only thing keeping her grounded.
Oom let out a shaky breath.
Carefully, hesitantly, she lowered one hand.
Just a little.
Hovering for a second before finally resting lightly against Bam’s back.
A test.
Bam didn’t react.
Didn’t pull away.
If anything, she leaned in closer.
Oom’s heart did something dangerous.
“…okay,” she whispered to herself. “This is happening. This is my life now.”
She stared at the wall.
At the clock.
At anything that wasn’t the girl currently breathing softly against her neck.
I cannot tell anyone about this.
Yada would never let her live it down.
No—worse.
Yada would demand details.
And Oom had no details.
Just confusion.
And a rapidly deteriorating sense of emotional stability.
Minutes passed.
Or maybe seconds.
Time felt strange.
Eventually, Bam shifted again.
Her grip loosened.
Her breathing deepened.
And slowly—very slowly—her hands slipped from Oom’s shirt.
Oom froze.
Waiting.
Watching.
Bam didn’t move again.
Still asleep.
Still peaceful.
Like nothing had happened.
Oom carefully stepped back.
One step.
Then another.
Her heart still racing, her mind still spinning.
She looked at Bam one last time.
At the calm expression. The soft breathing. The complete lack of awareness of what had just happened.
“…you’re going to ruin my life,” Oom whispered.
Then, before she could change her mind, she turned and walked out of the room.
---
Outside, the hallway felt too bright.
Too loud.
Too normal.
Oom leaned against the wall, pressing a hand to her face.
“…what was that?”
No answer.
Of course not.
Because there was no logical explanation for what she had just experienced.
Bam Saralee had—
Clung to her.
Held her.
Buried her face in her neck.
Called her safe.
Oom slid down the wall, sitting on the floor.
“I’m in danger,” she muttered.
Because this—
This wasn’t just a crush anymore.
This was something else entirely.
Something confusing.
Something dangerous.
Something that made her want to go back into that room—
“No,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “Absolutely not. We are not going back.”
She stood up immediately, as if physically removing herself from the temptation.
“This is fine,” she told herself. “We’re fine. Everything is normal.”
A pause.
“…nothing is normal.”
Oom took a deep breath.
Then another.
And finally, she started walking.
Fast.
Very fast.
Like if she didn’t leave immediately, she might turn around and do something incredibly stupid.
Like stay.
---
Back in the quiet club room, Bam shifted slightly on the couch.
Her fingers twitched.
Her brows furrowed faintly.
“…don’t go…”
Her voice was softer now.
Fading.
“…Oom…”
Then silence.
The room returned to stillness.
As if nothing had happened at all.