Wei stared at the physics book.
Chapter 5: Thermodynamics.
The words blurred.
He had read the same paragraph three times.
He understood the concepts.
He just couldn't make himself care.
He glanced at the clock on his desk.
8:47 AM.
He sighed.
He picked up his pen, tapping it against the open textbook.
He tried to force his focus.
He really did.
But his mind kept drifting.
He thought about Jian's face yesterday.
Concentrating.
Then frowning.
Then looking up, catching Wei's eye, and offering a small, embarrassed smile.
Wei had almost smiled back.
Almost.
He looked at the clock again.
8:51 AM.
Four minutes.
Four minutes of staring at a page he couldn't absorb.
Four minutes of pretending to be productive.
This was ridiculous.
He closed the physics book with a soft thud.
The sound echoed in the quiet room.
He looked at his neatly organized notes.
He looked at the clock.
He looked at the notes again.
Then the clock.
He was losing an argument with himself.
And he knew it.
"Fine," he muttered to the empty room.
His voice was low.
Resigned.
"This is ridiculous. I'm not getting anything done anyway."
He wasn't admitting defeat.
He was simply acknowledging the obvious.
He started gathering his things.
His calculus textbook.
His English vocabulary cards.
His favorite pen, the one with the smooth, dark ink.
He placed them carefully into his backpack.
Each item felt heavier than usual.
More significant.
Yesterday, he had packed his bag because Jian had invited him.
Because it was a logical step.
Today, there was no invitation.
No encouragement.
No logical reason.
Just a feeling.
A quiet, insistent pull.
He slung his backpack over his shoulder.
The weight felt familiar.
Comforting.
He walked out of his study, down the grand staircase, and through the silent living room.
He passed the kitchen, where the notes from his parents still sat.
Messages of love.
Messages of absence.
He didn't pause.
He reached the front door.
The heavy oak felt cool beneath his fingertips.
He unlocked it, the click loud in the stillness.
He stepped outside.
The morning air was warm, already hinting at the summer heat.
The sunlight was bright, washing over the quiet street.
He locked the door behind him, the metallic thunk echoing.
His house, perfect and silent, stood behind him.
He didn't look back.
He started walking.
His neighborhood was a familiar tapestry of old houses and small shops.
A woman was sweeping the sidewalk in front of her noodle stall, the rhythmic swish-swish a comforting sound.
The scent of freshly brewed tea mingled with the faint aroma of incense from a nearby temple.
An old man sat on a stool, reading a newspaper, his pet bird chirping softly in a cage beside him.
Ordinary moments.
Ordinary lives.
He remembered Jian's sister.
Her loud, cheerful voice.
Her dramatic pronouncements.
He remembered her teasing Jian about his messy hair.
Jian, flustered, trying to smooth it down.
Wei felt a small, private smile touch his lips.
He quickly suppressed it.
People were watching.
Not that anyone was actually looking at him.
He remembered Jian's terrible concentration.
How Jian would stare at a page for minutes, then suddenly look up, completely lost.
Wei had found it… endearing.
He remembered Jian's mother, Auntie, laughing.
Her laugh was warm and full, like the sun.
It filled the whole house.
It filled the whole street.
He realized he was walking faster than usual.
His pace was brisk.
Purposeful.
He immediately slowed down.
"No," he thought.
His internal voice was firm.
"I am not in a hurry."
He took a deep breath.
"...Probably."
He allowed himself a small, internal smirk.
It was very Wei.
He passed the corner store, where the owner was arranging fresh fruit.
He passed the small park, where a few children were already playing.
Each step felt lighter than the last.
Each memory, a small spark.
He wasn't thinking about physics anymore.
He wasn't thinking about exams.
He was just walking.
And for the first time in a long time, he felt a sense of anticipation.
He turned onto the familiar street.
Jian's street.
The houses here were older, closer together.
The trees were taller, their branches reaching across the road, creating dappled shade.
He could hear the faint, distant sounds of life.
A dog barking.
A child's laughter.
He saw the familiar gate, a few blocks ahead.
Yesterday, he had hesitated outside that gate.
Uncertain.
Today, he walked toward it.
Without stopping.