The afternoon disappeared faster than either of them expected.
At some point studying happened.
A little.
Mostly.
Probably.
The sun had already begun sinking by the time they finally came downstairs.
Jian's mother had gone to rest for a while.
His sister was busy terrorizing her homework.
The house felt quieter now.
Comfortable.
Lazy.
The kind of silence that arrived after a good meal.
Wei carried a stack of empty bowls toward the kitchen.
Jian immediately noticed.
"What are you doing?"
Wei looked confused.
"Helping."
"You don't have to."
"I know."
The answer came naturally.
As if that wasn't the point.
Wei walked past him anyway.
Jian stared.
Then followed.
Because apparently he lived with people incapable of letting him do things alone.
A few minutes later, Jian found himself washing dishes while Wei dried them.
The arrangement happened without discussion.
Like they'd done it before.
Which somehow made it worse.
Or better.
Jian wasn't sure anymore.
"You know..."
Wei broke the silence first.
"Hm?"
The sound of running water filled the kitchen.
For a moment Wei didn't continue.
Then—
"I almost didn't come."
Jian's hands paused.
Just briefly.
"Why?"
Wei looked down at the plate in his hands.
Thinking.
Searching for words.
"I thought it would be awkward."
The answer came quietly.
Honest.
"I thought Auntie would be uncomfortable."
A small laugh escaped him.
"I thought your family would look at me and remember everything."
The old arguments.
The distance.
The years.
Neither of them needed to say it aloud.
Jian turned off the faucet.
The kitchen suddenly felt very quiet.
"They wouldn't."
Wei smiled faintly.
"I know that now."
The words settled gently between them.
Jian looked away first.
Toward the window.
Toward the evening sky.
Anywhere except Wei.
Because something in his chest felt strangely tight.
"You should've known."
Wei laughed softly.
"I was seven."
Fair.
Jian had no argument.
A little later, Wei helped clear the table.
That surprised Jian even more.
Because before he could move—
the plates were already gone.
The chopsticks were stacked.
Everything organized.
"You're making me look bad."
Wei glanced up.
"A difficult task."
Jian pointed.
"That was personal."
"It was accurate."
The smile appeared again.
Small.
Warm.
Dangerous.
Jian found himself smiling too.
Without realizing.
Eventually evening arrived.
The sky darkened.
Streetlights flickered awake.
And reality returned.
Wei still had to go home.
His parents didn't know where he was.
Neither of them talked about it.
Neither wanted to.
Because talking about it would mean ending the day.
And neither seemed eager to do that.
So eventually Wei picked up his books.
The same books he'd brought that morning.
Only now the house felt different.
The doorway felt different.
Everything did.
Jian walked him outside.
Naturally.
As if there had never been another option.
The town was quieter now.
The air cooler.
Streetlights painted soft circles of yellow across the pavement.
They walked side by side.
Books tucked beneath their arms.
No rush.
No destination.
Just walking.
Three blocks passed without either of them noticing.
The old neighborhood stretched quietly around them.
A place filled with memories neither fully discussed.
Long ago, their houses had stood side by side.
Now nine blocks separated them.
Not far.
Yet somehow very far.
The distance adults created.
The distance children inherited.
The distance they were quietly crossing again.
Wei eventually stopped.
"This is far enough."
Jian nodded.
Neither moved.
A problem.
A very obvious problem.
Then—
"Will you come tomorrow too?"
The question escaped before Jian could stop it.
Too fast.
Too honest.
Too hopeful.
Wei looked at him.
For a moment neither spoke.
Then a smile appeared.
Small.
Soft.
The kind Jian secretly liked best.
"Maybe."
Jian frowned immediately.
"Maybe?"
"Maybe."
"That's not an answer."
"It is."
"No."
"It literally is."
Jian looked offended.
Wei looked pleased.
The victory was obvious.
Then, after letting him suffer for a few seconds—
"I'll come."
The words arrived casually.
As if they weren't important.
As if they didn't immediately brighten Jian's entire expression.
Wei noticed.
Of course he noticed.
The smile.
The relief.
The happiness.
All of it.
"You really wanted me to say yes."
Jian looked away instantly.
"No."
"Liar."
"No."
Wei laughed.
The sound carried softly through the evening air.
Then he adjusted the books in his arms.
Preparing to leave.
But before he could—
Jian spoke again.
Quieter this time.
More honest.
"I just..."
He stopped.
Searching.
Then laughed awkwardly.
"I like seeing you."
The confession slipped out accidentally.
Not a love confession.
Not yet.
Something smaller.
Something somehow more dangerous.
Because it was true.
Purely true.
Wei's expression softened.
Just a little.
Enough.
Then he nodded once.
"So do I."
Silence followed.
Warm.
Comfortable.
The kind worth keeping.
Eventually Wei turned toward home.
And Jian stayed where he was.
Watching.
Until the familiar figure disappeared beyond the next streetlight.
Only then did he start walking back.
The smile remained the entire way home.
Tomorrow suddenly didn't feel very far away.