Chapter 4 - The Quiet Shift

Chapter 4: The Quiet Shift

It started like any other Thursday.

Sweat-damp shirts. Squeaky sneakers. The soft thwack of shuttlecocks cutting across court lines.

Aleem didn’t remember why he signed up for the badminton module. Maybe it was to fulfil credits. Maybe it was for the cardio. Or maybe, subconsciously, he was chasing movement — anything to break the stillness that had settled in his chest since last semester.

Whatever the reason, that class gave him three things he didn’t know he needed: Ivan, Isabelle, and the quiet return of Crystal.

They weren’t ABIX yet. Not officially. Just a group of semi-compatible personalities who decided lunch together beat eating alone. Their first proper meal after class was at a food court so noisy they had to shout across the table. Isabelle sat tucked between Crystal and Ivan, carefully wiping sweat off her racket with a tissue. Ivan ate in silence, head bowed over his bowl, chopsticks moving with mechanical precision. Aleem said little — but he was watching.

Not in the calculating way he used to — not like when he was trying to decipher messages or smiles. This was different. He was just observing.

Ivan was steady. Solid. Always punctual, always precise. When the topic of relationships came up — something Crystal casually dropped while scrolling her phone — Ivan simply nodded.

“My girlfriend’s been with me since Sec 4,” he said, like he was reporting a weather update. “We’re comfortable. There’s no drama.”

Aleem blinked. “You make it sound like a thermostat setting.”

Ivan shrugged. “Isn’t that the point? Peace of mind?”

That stuck with Aleem. Peace of mind. The opposite of what he’d been chasing.

Crystal, now a little more radiant than he remembered, was smiling more easily these days. She didn’t talk about her past — not directly. But the way she carried herself felt lighter.

“Sometimes you just know when it’s not right,” she said when Isabelle asked something vague about ‘letting go’. “You feel it in your body before your mind catches up.”

Aleem caught her glance toward him, just for a second. It wasn’t pity. It was recognition.

Isabelle was the wildcard. Quiet, almost dreamy, but with the kind of presence that anchored a conversation without dominating it. She listened more than she spoke. But that day, when Crystal nudged her about a guy from class, her cheeks turned just slightly pink.

“Nothing’s happened,” she insisted. “But… I don’t know. It’s nice. He waits after class sometimes.”

Aleem smiled faintly. There was something sweet about the simplicity of it.

And then there was him.

Sitting across from all of them, watching — like a guest star in a drama he couldn’t quite join. He didn’t talk about his failed confession. No one asked, and maybe that was a gift.

But inside, something was still unraveling.

Later that night, after their meal and casual walk back to hall, Aleem found himself in his room, sitting by the window. Outside, the campus lights buzzed, casting faint glows across the empty courts.

His mind wandered back to Universal Studios.

Her voice. Her smile. The way she looked at him like a friend — nothing more.
Why didn’t you tell me earlier?

It still echoed.

And then another thought crept in, uninvited:

Would it even have made a difference?

He leaned back, closing his eyes. He was tired. Not just physically — but the kind of tired that seeps into the soul. The kind of tired that makes you question whether love is worth trying for at all.

But earlier today, something small shifted.

A laugh from Isabelle. Ivan’s quiet confidence. Crystal nudging his arm, teasing him again like before.

For the first time in months, Aleem didn’t feel like he had to perform. Or chase. Or prove.

He just… was.

And maybe that, in its own quiet way, was the beginning of healing.