Simon slowly stood up. His fingers still lingered on the edge of the desk, reluctant to truly move away.
His gaze fell upon the calendar on the teacher's desk—a date circled in deep red ink.
"Where... are you going next?" Nazma asked. Her voice nearly broke. Her blue eyes stared intently at Simon, while the rosy hue on her soft cheeks slowly faded, replaced by a weary paleness.
Simon took a deep breath, letting the cool classroom air fill his heavy lungs. His golden-blonde hair fell messily over his forehead, casting a shadow over his dimming gaze. He moistened his numb, thin lips, trying to summon the voice trapped in his throat.
"...DB Academy," Simon finally answered.
Short, calm, and sounding incredibly heavy. It sounded like a verdict that would sever their "paths."
Nazma slumped dejectedly. Her soft face was now hidden behind the shadow of her own hair. "Oh…"
Only that single word managed to escape, for its vibration carried a burden far greater than just a letter.
Her fingers clutched the hem of her skirt, her thin brows knitted together, struggling hard to stem the tears that began to press forward.
"I thought…" her voice was hoarse, almost lost, swallowed by the silence. "I thought you would come with me."
Simon slowly raised his face. The silence created between them felt so thick, even the classroom wall clock seemed to intentionally slow down, torturing the feelings that hungin the air.
Simon remained silent. He only let his black hair continue to cover part of his eyes, as if those strands were the final curtain protecting him from the collapse of his defenses.
Well, what a shame we will be attending different schools, Simon thought with a pained smile.
"But it doesn't matter," he continued while turning his face back toward the red calendar on the desk. "Everything will be fine."
Simon's smile just now felt more painful than if he had been angry with her. The phrase "it doesn't matter" echoed in Nazma's ears like a gentle rejection, a sign that a distance was about to stretch between them.
Their steps finally led them out of the school gates which were beginning to grow quiet.
Simon walked ahead, parting the sidewalk that was still warm from the lingering afternoon sun. Behind him, the sound of Nazma's shoes hitting the asphalt followed in a slow rhythm.
Simon's footsteps felt heavy yet as light as cotton. His heart pounded fast, almost wildly, as if refusing to slow down even though the conversation in class was over.
He deliberately cast his gaze straight ahead, toward the streets that were starting to get crowded. Truthfully, he didn't care about the vehicles or the people passing him by. His world had just shrunk.
He could hear the friction of Nazma's footsteps faithfully trailing behind.
Simon's mind was far too crowded with his own feelings. Every word he had just spoken, every tiny moment in that corner of the classroom, kept spinning in his head like a beautiful broken record.
The smile that was already stuck on his face was truly difficult to erase.
Far too difficult, even just to pretend that this school separation did not affect his world.
The afternoon sun was held back behind thick clumps of clouds, turning its searing rays into a soft and calm white glow. The air did not feel stinging; instead, it felt cool as a sudden wind blew quite strongly.
In an instant, the air between Simon and Nazma was filled with a dance of soft pink colors. The petals fell gracefully, twirling in the wind, then landing on Simon's shoulder and tucking into the strands of Nazma's blonde hair. The world around them seemed to slow down, exactly like a climax scene in a romance anime.
Simon stopped his pace. He let a single petal fall right into his open palm. The sight was so surreal; the beauty surrounding them actually made this parting feel bitter squared.
The noise of vehicles in the distance suddenly went silent. There were only the two of them, standing frozen under the rain of flowers that masked the sadness on each other's faces.
In Nazma's eyes, the figure of Simon standing in the middle of the falling petals looked like a painting she never wanted to forget.
Simon's smile was still held there, thin and mysterious, as he slowly turned toward Nazma. The afternoon light piercing through the gaps of the flowers made their shadows lengthen on the asphalt, merging in a very long silence.