IT ALL FELL DOWN.
Ruan stood in front of the small apartment building, staring at the familiar door. His heart was beating too fast.
He had been trying to reach Akari. Calling him again and again. Sending messages that were never answered. Each attempt ended the same way, silence.
But Ruan refused to believe it meant anything. Maybe Akari had turned off his phone. Maybe he just needed time. Maybe he was simply avoiding the chaos for a while.
That was why Ruan came himself. He lifted his hand and knocked on the door.
Knock.
No answer.
He frowned slightly and knocked again.
Knock. Knock.
Still nothing.
A strange uneasiness crawled into his chest. He knocked harder this time.
"Akari?" he called.
Silence. Ruan's patience began to crack. He knocked again and again, louder this time, his fist hitting the door with growing desperation.
Suddenly the door opened. But the person standing there was not Akari. A middle-aged man stood in the doorway, glaring at him with irritation.
"What do you want?" the man snapped.
Ruan blinked in confusion.
"I… I'm looking for Akari."
The man frowned. "Who?"
"Akari," Ruan repeated quickly. "He lives here."
The man looked annoyed. "I just moved in yesterday," he said coldly. "There's no one here by that name."
Ruan felt his stomach drop. "What…?"
"I said go away," the man grumbled, already pushing the door shut.
The door slammed in Ruan's face. For a moment he just stood there, frozen. Then his hands began shaking.
He quickly pulled out his phone and dialled Akari's number again. For the 685th time.
The familiar robotic voice answered immediately. "The number you are calling is not available..."
Ruan slowly lowered the phone. It felt like the ground beneath him was starting to disappear.
"Are you looking for the young teacher?"
Ruan turned. He nodded.
An old woman was standing near the stairs, holding a water can. The landlady. She squinted at him for a moment before recognition appeared in her eyes.
"Oh… you're that boy," she said gently. "The one who paid his rent once."
Ruan stepped closer, his voice unsteady. And forcing a smile he greeted.
"Where is he?"
The old woman hesitated. Then she sighed. "He left yesterday. So suddenly."
The words hit him like a physical blow. "L...le...left…?"
"Yes," she said softly. "He packed his things early in the morning. Said he had somewhere else to go."
Ruan stared at her. "Did he say where?"
She shook her head. "No."
For a long moment, Ruan didn't move. His chest felt hollow. Like something inside him had just been ripped away. Without saying another word, he slowly turned and walked away.
The walk home felt endless. Ruan's steps were slow and heavy, as if each one required more strength than the last. The city around him moved normally, cars passing by, people talking, and the distant sound of traffic. But to him, everything felt strangely silent. Like the world had suddenly lost its colour.
By the time he reached the new house, his mind felt numb. He opened the door and stepped inside.
His mother was in the living room. But she wasn't alone. Kev was sitting on the couch. The twins were standing nearby. They all turned the moment Ruan entered.
For a second, nobody spoke. Ruan looked at them, his expression empty.
Then he whispered weakly. "He left."
The words sounded small in the quiet room. Kev exchanged a glance with the twins.
Then he slowly nodded. "I know."
Ruan's eyes lifted slightly.
Kev reached into his jacket pocket and pulled something out. A folded letter. And a small doll. The doll was dressed like a teacher. It was the one Ruan had given Akari months ago as a joke.
Kev walked over and gently placed both items in Ruan's hands.
"He left this...for you." Kev said quietly.
Ruan stared at the doll. His fingers trembled as he held it. For a moment he tried to stay strong. He tried to breathe normally. But something inside him finally broke. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his mother.
And then he cried. Not quietly. Not with restraint. He cried like someone who had just lost the most important person in his life. Like someone grieving a death.
His shoulders shook as the pain he had been holding back for days finally poured out. His mother held him tightly, her own eyes filling with tears as she gently stroked his hair.
Kev looked away, swallowing hard. Even the twins, who usually joked about everything, stood silently.
No one tried to stop him. No one told him to calm down. They simply stayed there. Letting him grieve. Because sometimes heartbreak felt exactly like losing someone forever.
Later that night, Ruan sat on the edge of his bed, the doll clutched tightly in one hand, the folded paper trembling in the other.
He didn't want to open it. Part of him hoped it would be blank. Part of him wanted it to be a lie. But deep down, he knew this was all he had left of Akari.
His hands shook as he unfolded the paper. The familiar handwriting made his chest tighten. Every curve of the letters reminded him of Akari, of the small smiles, the quiet patience, the way he had always looked at him like Ruan mattered more than the world itself.
Ruan,
If you are reading this, then it means you came looking for me…
Ruan's throat tightened. He swallowed hard, trying not to let the tears fall too fast. But the words themselves were a flood.
I knew you would. You have always been stubborn like that. You never know when to stop chasing something you care about. It's one of the things I admire most about you… and also the reason I had to leave.
He pressed the doll closer to his chest, letting himself imagine Akari's arms holding him instead.
I'm sorry I couldn't say goodbye in person. If I had seen your face, I don't think I would have been strong enough to walk away.
The tears fell freely now. He didn't care.
These past months with you were something I never expected to experience in my life… you became someone I couldn't ignore anymore. You were honest with your feelings in a way most people are afraid to be… and that scared me.
Ruan's hands trembled, the letter feeling impossibly heavy in his grasp. His chest ached as if every word burned a piece of him away, leaving only the raw pain of missing Akari.
Because the more I cared about you, the more I realized that staying would only destroy your future. You are still young, Ruan. Your life is just beginning. There are places you will go, people you will meet, and a future far bigger than the small life I can offer you.
He pressed the paper to his lips and inhaled, trying to memorize the smell of the ink, as if it could carry Akari back to him for even a second.
If I stayed, the scandal would follow you forever. People would point at you. They would whisper. They would reduce your entire life to one mistake. I couldn't let that happen.
Ruan's knees gave slightly, and he sank further down to the floor.
Please don't think that what we had meant nothing to me. It meant everything. But sometimes loving someone means stepping away from their life, not forcing yourself to stay in it.
He closed his eyes and let himself imagine Akari walking away. Every step he had missed every word he hadn't said, every touch that would never come—they all pressed on his chest at once.
I'm leaving the doll you gave me. I kept it on my desk every day. It reminded me that even in a world full of rules and expectations, there was someone brave enough to care about me honestly.
Ruan hugged the doll tightly, burying his face in it. He felt his body shaking. The grief, the longing, the helplessness, all of it came pouring out in silent, violent sobs.
I don't know what the future will look like for either of us. Maybe one day we will meet again somewhere. Maybe we won't. But I hope when that day comes, you will be smiling. Because some people are still waiting… even though it doesn't seem like it. Good people deserve a second chance, don't they?"
Ruan whispered through his tears, "Akari… I'm still here. I'll wait."
Live freely, Ruan. Don't let anyone decide your life for you again. And please… take care of your mother. She needs you more than you realize.
The letter fell to his lap, and Ruan sat there for a long, quiet moment, staring at the words, letting them sink in. He didn't know where Akari was. He didn't know if he would ever see him again. But for the first time in weeks, he felt a faint spark of hope.
Because now he understood, Akari had left not because he didn't love him, but because he loved him enough to let him live freely.
And that was all the reason Ruan needed to keep going, to survive the pain, and to wait.