Ping returned to his daily life without Keng.
At first, everything felt unfamiliar, like he had been dropped into a version of his world that looked the same but no longer felt right.
The school grounds were unchanged-the same classrooms, the same corridors, the same old pavilion tucked quietly behind the main building-but something essential was missing.
The noise of students still filled the air every morning. Laughter echoed, teachers called out instructions, chairs scraped against the floor. Life moved on exactly as it should. But for Ping, it didn't feel the same.
School became quieter. Not because people stopped talking, but because the one voice he had unknowingly begun to listen for was gone. The old pavilion, once a place that had slowly filled with warmth and quiet conversations, felt empty again. It returned to being just a structure-wood and shade, nothing more.
Days passed.
Then weeks.
Ping adjusted in the only way he knew how-silently.
He learned how to move through his days without expecting anyone to call his name from behind. He stopped glancing over his shoulder when footsteps approached. He no longer lingered after class, no longer waited without realizing he was waiting.
He still laughed when it was expected of him. Still answered questions in class with the same calm voice. Still walked home every evening under the fading light of the sun. From the outside, nothing had changed.
But inside, everything felt... lighter.
Not lighter in a good way, but like something important had been taken away-like a piece of him had quietly disappeared, leaving behind an empty space he didn't know how to fill.
Time didn't stop. It never does.
A year passed.
Seasons changed, exams came and went, and before Ping fully realized it, he was standing at the edge of something new.
Graduation.
His final day as a high school student arrived with noise, excitement, and celebration.
Students gathered in groups, taking pictures, calling out to one another, capturing moments they didn't want to forget.
Ping stood among them, dressed neatly, his expression calm.
Keng wasn't there.
That thought came and went quietly, like something Ping had grown used to pushing aside. Still, he wasn't alone.
His friends came. They stayed close to him throughout the ceremony, never straying too far. They guided him through the crowd, checked on him without making it obvious, and made sure there was always someone beside him. It was subtle, but intentional.
They took pictures of him, smiling brightly as if nothing was missing. They pulled him into group photos, joked with him, nudged him lightly when he seemed too quiet. It was as though they were trying to fill a space that none of them mentioned out loud.
And Ping let them.
"P'Tao, P'Jinn, P'Bank... thank you for attending," Ping said softly, bowing his head slightly.
"It's fine," Jinn replied with a warm smile, gently tapping Ping's shoulder.
"We wouldn't miss it."
There was a brief moment of silence after that.
Then, almost as if they had silently agreed, the three of them excused themselves and moved a little farther away. They didn't go far-just enough to give him space.
Ping didn't question it.
But a few steps away, the three of them hesitated.
"Give it to him," Jinn whispered.
"No, you give it to him," Bank replied, shaking his head.
"It was delivered to your house. You should be the one."
"But you're closer to him," Bank insisted, glancing toward Ping.
They went back and forth for a moment, their voices low but tense with uncertainty.
Finally, Tao sighed. Before he could argue further, the other two lightly pushed him forward. Tao stumbled a little, then steadied himself, letting out a quiet breath as he walked back toward Ping.
Ping looked up as Tao approached, a small frown forming on his face. Tao didn't speak immediately. Instead, he slowly stretched out his hand. In it was a small, cute doll-and a letter.
"This letter's for you," Tao said quietly, avoiding Ping's eyes.
"It's... probably from Keng."
Ping froze.
The name hit him harder than he expected. It had been a year. A whole year since he last heard that name spoken aloud.
For a brief moment, everything around him seemed to fade into the background.
The noise. The people. The laughter. All of it disappeared.
Ping's gaze dropped to the items in Tao's hand.
The doll... he recognized it. His fingers moved before his mind could catch up. He took the doll and the letter slowly, almost cautiously, as if they might disappear if he wasn't careful.
But he didn't open it. Not there. Not now. He simply nodded once, silently, and Tao took that as his cue to leave.
The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur. Ping smiled when he needed to. Took pictures when asked. Responded when spoken to. But his mind wasn't there anymore. It was with the letter.
When he finally got home, the house was quiet. Too quiet. Ping walked into his room, closed the door gently behind him, and sat down on his bed. For a while, he just stared at the letter in his hand. Then, slowly, he unfolded it. His fingers were steady. But his chest wasn't.
The words inside were simple.
Too simple.
I'll be back. I promise. -Keng.
Ping stared at the words, his expression unreadable. A few seconds passed. Then he let out a small, bitter scoff.
"That's it?" he muttered.
His grip on the paper tightened slightly.
"Wait for you?" he continued, his voice low.
"I long forgot about you, you jerk."
The words came out easily. Too easily. But his heart betrayed him. Because it hurt. It hurt in a way he couldn't explain. The kind of ache that sat deep in his chest, quiet but heavy.
Only then did it occur to him- He never asked Tao how he got the letter. When it was delivered. Where it had been all this time. The questions surfaced, one after another, pressing against his thoughts. But just as quickly as they came... Ping pushed them away.
He folded the letter slowly, his movements careful.
"Never mind," he whispered.
"I don't care anyway."
But even as he said it, his fingers tightened slightly around the paper, as if afraid it might slip away.
Ping wasn't hurt because Keng left. Not entirely. He was hurt because of everything that came before it.
Keng was the one who reached out to him.
The one who noticed him.
The one who made him feel seen in a way no one else ever had.
He was the one who smiled at him, who stood beside him, who created a warmth Ping didn't even realize he had been missing.
And then- He disappeared.
Without a word.
Without an explanation.
Without even a proper goodbye.
If Keng had never approached him...
If he had never smiled that way...
If he had never made Ping feel like he mattered...
Maybe it wouldn't have hurt like this.
Maybe Ping would have continued living his quiet, uneventful life without ever knowing what he was missing.
But Keng did all of that. And then he left. That was what broke him.
Ping lowered his gaze, his hands clenching tightly-one holding the letter, the other gripping the small doll. His chest tightened. His jaw set.
"I will make you regret it," Ping whispered.
This time, his voice wasn't soft.
It carried something sharper.
Something heavier.
His fingers tightened around the doll as if holding onto the only proof that Keng had ever been real.
"I will make you regret leaving me."
And for the first time in a long while- Ping didn't feel empty. He felt something else. Something stronger. Something that refused to be ignored.