Just as I've finished saying that, the door completely opens and a truly unexpected view welcomes a me: There is only a single person sitting on a chair in the otherwise empty classroom, a guitar on his lap, a notebook in front of him, and some loose sheets on the ground.

The person -- a boy -- looks up. A short pencil is sticking out from between his ear and messy hair, his eyes are staring at me with friendly surprise in them, and I can see a dimple as he opens his mouth.

Oh.

It's Yixing.

What a coincidence that I see him again. But since when was he in the guitar club? So maybe the person in the music shop was him after all. 

"Eh." In my sudden surprise I fail to find the right words, and I end up blinking more often than necessary. As I look around, I see that he is alone. Can a club consist of a single member? Maybe I got the wrong room? "This is the guitar club, right?"

"Yes, it is," Yixing looks as confused as I feel when he answers. Though, still in a polite manner he says, "Sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone to join."

"Oh. I can leave, it's no problem, really," I say almost instinctively, before I wave my hands a little and take a step back, giving him a reassuring smile. I don't exactly understand the problem, but it's never been like me to make people feel more uncomfortable than necessary. But as I attempt to step away further Yixing stands up, his pencil falling down and the sheets in the notebook falling out.

"No, no!" Now he is waving his hands rapidly. "I don't want to say that I don't want to recruit you or anything. Just give me a second to gather myself ... because right now I'm just a little confused about how you found out about the club."

I almost smile at how lost he seems, and how ridiculous what he just said sounds. I do remember him as an airhead, but not to this extent. Suppressing the smile, I point to the corridor. "There was a little note hanging on the board."

He looks at me, really dumbfounded for a few seconds. "Ah, I see," he then mumbles, more to himself than to me. Then he seems to think about something for such really long time I almost want to ask what the problem is, but he looks so lost, his eyes unfocused on me, seeming to be completely in his own world that I feel too unfamiliar to him to have the right to pull him out of his thoughts. 

After a a while -- I don't realize how long because his expression amused me so much -- he adds, "Hey, you see," -- he's rubbing the nape of his neck -- "the teacher responsible for this club has left the school and the other two members have graduated."

He scratches his head and glances at me. "So technically, this club does not have any permission to, well, exist. I actually wanted to disband it." Again I see his dimple as he gives me an apologetic smile.

I nod slowly, trying to hide the slightest disappointment that creeps into me. So much like me to chose the greatest time to join a club, part of me tries to console me with sarcasm but it doesn't really have an effect. But the longer I think about it, the less sense it all makes

.

“But wait, if you want to disband it, why are you here today?“ I sound more accusing than I want to, I realize with an immediate chill of guilt.  Trying to sound more polite, I mumble, "Uh, I mean. The clubroom would be empty and all, right?" 

Not seeming care about the apparent accusation in my voice, Yixing only shrugs. “Old habits are hard to break, I guess.“ He even gives me a smile. Yes, I recall that he was never one to be unpleasant. The ever so calm Yixing.

"Should be empty, yeah, so do you mind keeping the fact that I unlocked the door and all a secret from the teachers?" A big smile of persuasion begins to spread on his lips, and I cannot help but smile back. He's such a pleasant person.

But then I wonder out loud, “But if you plan to disband it, why would you recruit new members then?“

He snaps his fingers. “That's the point“, he pauses, "I didn't put the note there. I suppose it was the teacher, he must have put it there before spring break. Seems like he's against disbanding the club.“ I nod and watch him thinking about something. His gaze seems to become weirdly empty, and a smile forms on his lips. It must be something nostalgic, I think. As his expression is both hartwearming and a little sad. He then shakes his head, as if to snap out of it.

“I guess I won't disband the club then. I think two members is the minimum and we'd be two.“ He looks at the guitar for a while before continuing, “Then let's look for a teacher who is willing to take responsibility for this club tomorrow, huh?“ he gives me a dimpled smile, and I'm not sure if its the dimples or something else, but I just nod and agree even though I'm the type to avoid anything troublesome (and finding a teacher for this sure is troublesome). 

He then seats himself onto the ground again and gathers the loose notes. “Since you're already here, show me your skills,“ he says and holds up the guitar for me.

I instinctively not before part of me reminds me that I have basically no guitar skills. Tilting my head, I try to avoid his gaze. “Ehh... you see, I have only started learning how to play since last Monday, so it can't be considered skills.“

There is a long silent moment.

I have this stupid habit where I tend  to just blurt out what's on my mind whenever I get nervous. And I always never realize it once the words are out of my mouth. ”I suppose this club is