(YEAR:2022)

Love… isn’t it the sweetest yet most bitter thing in this world?

Standing here today, in the middle of the school courtyard, surrounded by soft laughter and quiet conversations, I finally understand what that means. The air is filled with a strange mix of excitement and reluctance, as if no one is truly ready to leave.

Groups of students gather everywhere, holding their certificates, taking photos, calling out to one another. Some are laughing, some are already tearing up, others busy writing last messages on uniforms and notebooks, trying to leave behind something that won’t fade.

Everyone looks happy.

Or at least, they’re trying to be.

But me?

I just stand here, holding my graduation certificate, feeling like something is missing. Or rather, someone.

Have you ever loved someone for so long that you didn’t even realize it?

I did. For years.

And the funny thing is… I only understood it after he was gone.

A soft breeze passes by, brushing against my face, yet it does nothing to calm the strange heaviness in my chest. My eyes wander unconsciously through the crowd, scanning faces one by one, as if I’m searching for someone who was never going to be here.

“Zhu Hua! Over here!”

I hear my name being called, but it feels distant, almost unreal. I turn slowly, forcing a small smile as my classmates wave at me. I walk toward them, step by step, blending into the moment that somehow doesn’t feel like mine.

“Quick, let’s take a picture before everyone leaves!”

They pull me into the center, laughing, fixing their hair, straightening their uniforms.

“Ready?”

A phone is raised.

I smile.

But my eyes… they’re not looking at the camera. They’re searching. Always searching. As if a part of me still believes that if I look hard enough, I might find him standing somewhere nearby.

Liu Yifan.

The name lingers quietly in my mind, like a memory that refuses to fade.

The last time I saw him was on a day just like this, the same sunlight, the same voices, the same quiet restlessness in the air. Except that day, he was the one graduating, and I was just a girl standing far away, watching him without understanding why I couldn’t look away.

Back then, I thought it was nothing. Just admiration. Just curiosity. Something small. Something meaningless.

I didn’t know that a single glance could turn into something that would stay with me for years.

A shutter sound clicks.

Soft cheers rise around me as everyone leans in to check the photo, laughing and teasing each other. I step back quietly, letting their voices fade into the background. My gaze drifts again, across the courtyard, the familiar buildings, the paths I’ve walked countless times.

Everything looks the same.

Yet everything feels different.

Because he isn’t here.

Not today. Not yesterday. Not even once since the day he left.

“Zhu Hua.”

I turn at the sound of my brother’s voice. Zhu Hao walks toward me, calm as always, as if nothing in this world could truly disturb him.

“You’re done?” he asks.

I nod lightly. “Yeah.”

“Let’s go. It’s getting crowded.”

I hesitate, just for a moment.

“…Ge,” I call softly.

He looks at me. “What?”

My lips part, but the words don’t come out.

Do you still talk to him? Is he doing well? Does he remember me?

So many questions.

But none of them leave my mouth.

“…Nothing,” I say, lowering my gaze.

He doesn’t ask further. “Then let’s go.”

I follow him, step by step, toward the school gate, toward the end of something. Or maybe the beginning of understanding something I was too late to realize.

But just before I leave, I stop.

I turn back.

The courtyard stands behind me, unchanged, filled with voices, footsteps, and memories that no one else can see the way I do. And somewhere in that place, a younger version of me still exists, standing quietly, looking at him, falling in love without even knowing it.

Liu Yifan…

Did you ever know?

The night felt quieter than usual.

Maybe it was just me.

I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, still dressed in my loose home clothes, too tired to move, yet unable to sleep. The events of the day replayed endlessly in my mind, laughter, voices, congratulations… and the emptiness in between.

Graduation was supposed to feel like an ending worth celebrating.

So why did it feel like I had lost something instead?

I turned to my side, pulling the blanket slightly closer. My room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of the desk lamp. Everything was still.

Too still.

And in that silence, my thoughts drifted back to him again.

Liu Yifan.

It always comes back to you, doesn’t it?

I let out a soft breath, closing my eyes for a moment. But instead of sleep, memories came.

Uninvited. Relentless.

Slowly, I reached out toward my bedside drawer. For a moment, my hand hesitated. Then, as if guided by something I couldn’t explain, I pulled it open.

Inside lay a camera.

Old, but carefully kept.

My fingers brushed against it gently before lifting it out, as if I was afraid it might disappear if I held it too tightly. I hadn’t touched it in so long.

Not because I forgot.

But because I remembered too well.

This camera… you gave it to me. On your graduation day.

And somehow, it became the only place where I could still talk to you.

A faint, bittersweet smile touched my lips.

Whenever I missed you… I would turn it on.

Not to take pictures.

But to record.

Fragments of words I could never say out loud. Feelings I didn’t understand at first, yet kept returning, again and again.

Years passed like that.

And this camera quietly held them all.

My grip tightened slightly as the memory began to surface, clear and vivid, like it had been waiting for this moment all along. I lowered my gaze, my thumb tracing the edges of the camera.

“…Liu Yifan,” I whispered softly.

My voice was barely audible in the quiet room.

“I miss you… do you know that?”

There was no answer.

Of course there wasn’t.

Yet I still spoke, as if somewhere, somehow, you might hear me.

For a moment, I hesitated… then slowly pressed the power button.

The screen flickered to life.

It felt familiar.

Too familiar.

Like reopening a part of my heart I had kept hidden for years.

“I still remember the first day we met…”

A faint smile touched my lips, fragile and distant.

“…even if I can’t remember every detail perfectly.”

I shifted slightly, hugging the camera closer to me before setting it in front of me, as if it were quietly listening.

“That day… I was in my classroom.”

The memory began to unfold, clearer with every word.

“It was just an ordinary day. I was sitting at my desk, probably not paying attention like always…”

A soft breath escaped me.

“And then suddenly… you appeared.”

My eyes lowered, as if I could see it happening right in front of me.

“You stood at the door and asked, ‘Who is Zhu Hua?’”

I paused.

My fingers tightened unconsciously.

“You came looking for me because my brother asked you to.”

A small, almost helpless laugh escaped my lips.

“He had brought my lunch from home because I forgot it… but instead of coming himself, he sent you.”

That was just like him.

But back then, none of that mattered.

Because for the first time, I saw you.

And something changed.

“I don’t know why,” I whispered. “Out of everyone in that moment… my eyes only stopped on you.”

The room fell silent again, filled only with the quiet sound of my breathing.

“I didn’t understand it back then.”

How could I?

I was just fourteen.

Too young to know what that feeling meant.

Too young to realize that moment would stay with me for years.

I slowly closed my eyes, holding the camera closer.

“…and that was the first time I met you.”

A pause. Soft. Lingering.

“And maybe…”

My voice softened into a whisper.

“…that was the beginning of everything.”

(2018)

At some point, without realizing it, I fell asleep.

And just like that, I was back there.

A classroom filled with noise, sunlight streaming through the windows, and the faint sound of pages turning and students talking over one another. It was just another ordinary day.

Or at least… it was supposed to be.

I was sitting at my desk, half-listening to everything around me, when suddenly, the classroom door slid open.

The noise quieted almost instantly.

And then, a voice.

Calm. Clear. Unfamiliar.

“Who is Zhu Hua?”

For a moment, I didn’t react. Confusion flickered across my mind as I looked toward the door.

A tall figure stood there.

A senior.

Someone I had never seen before.

Yet somehow… he didn’t feel like someone you could ignore.

Everyone in the class had already turned to look at him. Whispers began to spread quietly.

“Who is he?”

“He’s so handsome…”

“Isn’t he from the senior classes?”

My heart skipped, just slightly.

“…Me.”

I raised my hand slowly, unsure.

His gaze shifted.

And then, he walked toward me.

Step by step. Calm. Unhurried.

But for some reason, every step felt loud in my chest.

He stopped beside my desk, looking down at me.

“You’re Zhu Hao’s younger sister?”

His voice was cool, yet strangely gentle at the same time.

I blinked, still a little lost.

“…Yeah,” I said, looking up at him. “And who are you?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he placed a lunch box gently on my desk.

“I’m your brother’s friend,” he said. “He asked me to give you this. You forgot it at home. He brought it, but he’s busy.”

“Oh…”

I looked at the lunch box, then back at him.

For a second, I just stared.

I didn’t know why.

Maybe it was the way he stood there so effortlessly… or the way his expression barely changed… or just… him.

He noticed.

“Is there something on my face?” he asked.

I froze.

My heart jumped as if I had been caught doing something wrong.

“N-no,” I stammered quickly, grabbing the lunch box and hiding it under my desk. “Nothing…”

Then, without thinking, I added, “I was just wondering how my ugly brother has a friend like you.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

I frowned slightly, continuing in an annoyed tone, “His personality is so bad… how are you even friends with him?”

For a second, there was silence.

Then—

he smiled.

Just a little.

It was faint, but unmistakable.

He leaned forward slightly, resting one hand on my desk, his gaze lowering to meet mine.

“So…” he said softly, “…are you trying to say that I’m handsome?”

My breath caught.

I looked at him again, completely caught off guard.

Before I could answer, the bell rang.

Loud. Sharp.

Breaking the moment instantly.

Class time.

He straightened up, stepping back as if nothing had happened.

“Eat your lunch, meimei,” he said casually. “I’ll get going.”

And just like that, he turned and walked away.

I didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

I just watched him as he left the classroom—

until he disappeared from sight.

“Zhu Hua!”

The sudden voices around me pulled me back. My classmates rushed over immediately, crowding around my desk.

“Who was that?”

“He’s so handsome!”

“Is he really your brother’s friend?”

“What’s his name?”

I blinked as their questions came one after another.

But only one thought stayed in my mind.

His name.

I paused, then said casually, trying to sound normal, “He’s my brother’s friend.”

A small shrug.

“…I don’t know his name.”

And somehow, that made my heart feel strangely empty.

Because even though that was the first time I saw him…

it already felt like something had begun.

Something I didn’t understand yet.

Something I wouldn’t forget.