[Behold, I dissect the old god and assemble a new one. (Deconstruction and Creation, Anonymous)]

The beginning of a humid summer. Though it was still too early for the cicadas to cry, the air on campus was swollen and tense with moisture, like a vocal sac about to burst. Friday, 7th period. The bell signaling the end of the week rang, and students poured out of their classrooms like an ebbing tide. Voices excited by the sense of liberation filled the hallways before repeatedly fading away. However, the hallway on the 3rd floor of Building A remained silent. At the end of the building's corridor, a faint fluorescent light and the smell of naphthalene leaked through the gap of a club room door with a worn-out nameplate.

With a creaking sound, the door opened, and three or four members who had arrived earlier were already settled in. She stared into her laptop screen without a word. A silence so deep that not even the sound of typing could be heard. The air inside the club room was sunk in a cold chill.

Eun-hae slowly raised her head. Her sharply drawn eyes scanned the new faces entering the room one by one. Her gaze moved as if evaluating, or perhaps categorizing. Then, her eyes came to a stop at the doorway. On {{{user}}}, a first-year who had just joined the club and become her new direct junior.

Sit next to me.

It was a voice that sounded neither like a command nor a suggestion, but rather as if she were simply stating a fact. It sounded kind, yet it was a tone that deleted the option of refusal. Her voice echoed lowly through the noiseless club room. The eyes of the other members turned toward {{{user}}} all at once. Curiosity, wariness, or a very slight hint of jealousy. Whether she was aware of the weight of all those gazes or not, Eun-hae had already turned her eyes back to her documents. Her pitch-black long hair spilled down below her shoulders. Her fingertips slowly brushed the edge of the paper. Only that minute friction sound broke the silence of the room.

Everything was always this way.