The rain that had fallen the night before was gone by morning.
In its place remained a pale sky streaked with soft clouds, the air cool and fresh from the storm.
It should have felt peaceful.
Instead, Lu Yuan felt as though every passing minute was slipping through his fingers.
The day had finally arrived.
He sat quietly at his desk during lessons, staring at the words written across the blackboard without seeing them.
Teachers spoke.
Students answered questions.
Pages turned.
The world continued exactly as it always had.
Yet for him, everything felt distant.
Temporary.
The clock above the classroom door seemed louder than usual.
Each tick sounded like a countdown.
One less hour.
One less minute.
One step closer.
By the time the final bell rang, Lu Yuan was already standing.
He left before anyone could stop him.
Before anyone could ask questions.
Before he lost the courage to go.
The train station was crowded.
Families moved in every direction, carrying luggage and bundles of belongings. Vendors called out from nearby stalls. Children chased one another through the crowd while adults hurried after them.
The noise pressed against him from all sides.
Ordinarily, Lu Yuan would have hated it.
Today, he barely noticed.
His eyes searched constantly.
Looking.
Looking.
Looking.
Then—
he found her.
Qingyue stood beside several large suitcases near the platform entrance.
Her parents were speaking with a station attendant nearby.
She wore a light-colored dress instead of her school uniform, her hair tied neatly behind her shoulders.
For a moment, she looked older.
Farther away.
Like she already belonged somewhere else.
Then she noticed him.
And smiled.
The sight hit him harder than expected.
"Yuan!"
She waved immediately.
Just like always.
As though nothing had changed.
Lu Yuan walked toward her.
His steps remained steady.
Only his hands betrayed him, clenched tightly at his sides.
"You came."
Her voice carried a mixture of surprise and relief.
"I said I would."
Qingyue laughed softly.
"You did."
For a brief moment, neither spoke.
The noise of the station seemed strangely distant.
The space around them shrinking until only the two of them remained.
Then Qingyue reached into her bag.
"I almost forgot."
She pulled out a small envelope.
Cream-colored.
Neatly sealed.
"What is it?" Lu Yuan asked.
"A letter."
His eyes widened slightly.
"A letter?"
She nodded.
"You'll probably get lonely before my first real one arrives."
The attempt at humor was gentle.
But Lu Yuan couldn't laugh.
Instead, he accepted the envelope carefully.
Like something fragile.
Important.
"Don't open it until after I leave," Qingyue instructed.
"Okay."
His fingers tightened around it.
Another piece.
Another thing to hold onto.
Nearby, a whistle echoed through the station.
Long.
Sharp.
Final.
Passengers immediately began gathering their belongings.
The train had arrived.
The moment Lu Yuan had been avoiding all day suddenly stood directly in front of him.
Real.
Unavoidable.
Qingyue's parents began calling for her.
"Qingyue."
"It's time."
The words felt like a blade.
Simple.
Ordinary.
Merciless.
Qingyue glanced toward her parents before looking back at Lu Yuan.
Something in her expression softened.
For the first time all day, she seemed reluctant too.
"I guess this is goodbye for now."
For now.
The words were meant to comfort.
Instead, they hurt.
Lu Yuan lowered his gaze briefly.
Then lifted it again.
"Jiejie."
His voice was quieter than usual.
She paused immediately.
"Mm?"
A thousand thoughts crowded his mind.
Don't go.
Stay.
Take me with you.
Come back sooner.
Promise you'll still need me.
Promise nothing will change.
But none of them reached his lips.
Because some part of him already understood.
None of those things were fair.
None of them were possible.
So after a long silence, he only asked:
"Will you really write?"
The question was small.
Childish, perhaps.
But it carried everything else he couldn't say.
Qingyue smiled immediately.
"Of course."
She held out her hand.
"I promised, didn't I?"
Lu Yuan stared at her hand for a second before taking it.
Her fingers were warm.
Familiar.
The same hand that had pulled him from an alley years ago.
The same hand that had offered him red bean buns.
The same hand that had adjusted his collar yesterday.
For one brief moment, he held on slightly tighter than necessary.
Neither of them commented on it.
Then Qingyue squeezed his hand once.
Gently.
"I'll send pictures too."
His chest tightened painfully.
"Okay."
"And you have to write back."
"Okay."
"And don't forget to eat properly."
"Okay."
She laughed softly.
"You keep saying okay."
Because if he spoke more than that, his voice might break.
Another whistle sounded.
This time louder.
More urgent.
The final boarding call.
Qingyue's father called her name again.
She released his hand.
The loss of contact felt immediate.
Cold.
"Yuan."
He looked up.
"Take care of yourself."
Something inside him cracked.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
Enough to hurt.
Enough to leave a mark.
"I will."
It was the only answer he could give.
Qingyue smiled one last time.
Then she turned.
And walked away.
Lu Yuan stood motionless as she boarded the train.
He watched her find a seat by the window.
Watched her set down her bag.
Watched her search for him through the crowd.
When she found him, she smiled again and lifted her hand.
He lifted his own.
The train whistle echoed across the station.
The engine began to move.
Slowly.
Almost gently.
The distance between them widened.
A little.
Then more.
Then more.
Qingyue remained visible through the window.
Still smiling.
Still waving.
Until the train gathered speed.
Until faces blurred together.
Until the platform ended.
Until she was gone.
For a long time, Lu Yuan remained standing exactly where he was.
The crowd gradually dispersed around him.
Families reunited.
Travelers departed.
Vendors resumed their calls.
Life moved forward.
As though nothing important had happened.
As though an entire world had not just disappeared.
His hand tightened around the envelope she had given him.
The paper crinkled slightly.
Only then did he realize his vision had blurred.
A single tear slipped down his cheek.
Then another.
And another.
Quiet.
Silent.
Unnoticed.
There was no one left to see.
No one left to hear.
For the first time since meeting Qingyue, Lu Yuan was truly alone.
And somewhere in the distance, carrying her farther and farther away, the train continued forward.
Leaving behind a boy standing on an empty platform, clutching a letter like it was the last piece of sunlight he had left.