Ping returned to his daily life without keng.
School became quieter. The old pavilion felt empty again. Days passed,then weeks and ping learned how to move through them without expecting anyone to call his name or wait for him after class.
He still laughed when he needed to, still answered questions in class, still walked home every evening – but everything felt lighter, as though something important had been taken away.
A year passed and ping was graduating from high school.
Keng wasn't there.
Still, his friends came.
They stayed by ping's side throughout the ceremony, guiding him, checking on him, making sure he never felt alone.
They took pictures of him,smiled with him, and even took pictures together – as if filling the empty space keng had left behind.
"P'Tao, p'jinn, p'bank thank you for attending", ping said softly, bowing slightly.
"It's fine", jinn replied with a smile tapping him slightly by the shoulder.
They excused themselves and moved a little farther away, giving him space.
"Give it to him".
"No,you give it to him",
"It was delivered to your house, you should".
"But you're closer to him".
After a moment,Tao was gently pushed forward.
He stretched out his hand, holding a small, cute doll– and a letter.
"This letter's for you", Tao said quietly. "It's probably from keng".
Ping froze.
It had been a year since he last heard that name.
He recognized the doll, so he accepted it and the letter, but he didn't open it. Not there. Not not.
When he got home,ping sat alone in his room. The house was quiet. He unfolded the letter slowly.
I'll be back I promise.
Keng.
Ping stared,at the words.
"That's it?", he muttered,
"Wait for you?,I long forgot about you, you jerk".
The words left his mouth easily, but his heart ached, saying otherwise.
Only then did he remember– he never asked Tao how he got the letter. When it was delivered. Where it had been all this time.
The questions rose for a moment.
Then ping folded the paper slowly. "Nevermind", he whispered "I don't care anyway".
He held the letter a little tighter as if afraid it might slip away.
Ping wasn't hurt because keng left.
He was hurt because keng was the one who pulled him close,the one who made him feel seen, the one who gave him warmth and attachment – only to disappear without a word.
If keng had never reached out, never smiled at him that way, never promised anything without saying it out loud, maybe it wouldn't have hurt this much.
But keng did.
And then he left.
That was what broke ping.
"I will make you regret",ping added, clenching his fists tight against the doll.