Archive of Our Own ^beta

University entrance tests are the main focus for senior high school students, Caleb and Zayne included. Both of them have been cramming for it in the local library until midnight. This is their nth time doing this since they figured the rumor about the haunted library makes people stay away from the place. Only a few would linger and stay till late at night or even by dawn. 

They figured they can talk about anything if they’re far away enough and quiet enough for the librarians to care. And so this not-so-secret hideout is where they’ll be after school. Their conversation is the same as usual for the first week. About the tests, what major they want to be in, what university, what college life would be.

“I’ll find a part-time job in college later for allowance and help a little for my sister’s college fund.”

Zayne glanced at him. “I thought you’re going to join organizations or communities.”

Caleb spun the pen in one hand, chuckling. “That was my initial plan.” He stops and brings his hand to hold his chin as he looks outside the window, staring at the city lights. He sighed. “But it wasn’t realistic.”

Zayne flips his notebook, writing on the fresh blank page. “What’s the ideal plan, then?” He asked without breaking his focus from his notes.

Caleb shifted his gaze towards Zayne without moving. There’s a long silence then, but Zayne still focuses on writing his notes. Caleb smiles. “Ideally? I want to be in the same university and major with you.” 

Zayne stops and now shifts his entire focus onto Caleb. “You want to become a doctor?”

Caleb giggles, throwing his pen on the stacks of open books in front of him and then leaning back on the hard wooden chair. “I'll die if that happens, Zayne. I'm already having a migraine from seeing your notes, let alone read or write it.”

Zayne sighs with a smile. “With your grades now, you can make it”

“It's not a matter of grades, it's a matter of my sanity,” he rolled his eyes. Caleb sits up, crossing his arms and leaning his face towards Zayne. “If only we can be this close in college.”

Zayne smiled wryly. Even though their desired university is the same, they will be separated by major and faculty. They've been together since elementary school, always together like peas in a pod. So the thought of them being unable to be close like now feels strange to him. 

“If we made it to the same university, we'd still be able to hang out again,” Zayne replied.

“But we're no longer in the same class, not even in the same building,” Caleb’s eyes fall on to the books scattered on the table. Sadness embedded in his eyes, though his mouth curved a faint smile. “We can't sit next to each other anymore.”

There are words left unsaid, but Zayne understood it all. Ten years of being so close together, they can read each other instantly just by small different gestures. But for this one, what Caleb said reflects his own feelings, something complicated that he can’t utter. They can’t utter.

Zayne sighed, maintaining his expression and voice as neutral as possible. ”Well, we can’t always be together, can we?”

—” Oh why can't we for once,” —

School year had ended by that time and students had only come back for extra tutoring sessions for the college admission test. It wasn’t until he overheard teachers talking that he learned Caleb had retracted his admission form. The words felt like a sudden, sharp breath had been stolen from him, as if the space around him shrank and made everything fall deaf silent. He hadn’t expected this coming—or maybe he did but never accepted it even as a possibility.

After the admission test was over, Zayne came to visit their home, but he found no one there. He tried to ask the neighbors but their answer varies. Some said they moved to the outer skirt, some said the social workers took them, and another said they went back to the orphanage. Zayne knows most of them aren’t true because Caleb hates his orphanage and since he’s about to come of age, he can’t be there. And he won’t leave Emmy alone in the orphanage, so it makes more sense if they move out together. 

But where? And why?

He even asked his parents for help to find their whereabouts, but to no avail. Zayne tried to call Caleb’s number several times, sending messages dozens of times and none seems to reach him. 

Caleb’s words from the day of the funeral replayed in his head millions of times. He realized now that Caleb truly bid him a farewell that day but he didn't want to accept that. But even if he did, he thinks nothing will change. He still wouldn’t know Caleb's whereabouts and he wouldn't be able to utter a single word. Because Caleb knows what he’s doing and Zayne knows if Caleb can tell him, he would. But he didn’t, so that means that’s the best course of action that he chose, and Zayne can respect that. 

Eventually, Zayne needs to move outside of the county for his study and that’s when he finally gave up from seeing Caleb again. There’s a little hope that, somehow, Caleb is in the city he studied in, fulfilling his promise to make sure he never misses his meals.

But that’s just wishful thinking. 

By the time the semester started, Zayne gradually moved on from such wishful thoughts. It still creeps in every time he cooks something for himself or when he’s starving because he spent his whole day finishing homework one after another.

Endless essay and reports looming over the week’s deadline, not to mention the never-ending group projects plagued by lack of communication and accountability, can push starvation into the least of priorities and made one’s forgot that a fully functioning human being needs to eat for energy replenishment, even when one’s whole life is dedicated to ensuring the well-being of human’s body.

Twenty four hours a day feels too short and seven days a week goes by like a blink of an eye. Months to years, and the cycle repeats over and over again and he understands how time ticks differently from his past. Now, it moves mercilessly faster and he is almost in disbelief how the sun is gone as quick as it rises. 

It only left regrets when he tried to change his perception of time like how he used to perceive it in the past so he began to catch up to the pace, accepting that the faster time goes, the more time has passed.

Because time heals, doesn't it?

Maybe because now he doesn't have anything that hinders him. Because now he isn't emotionally attached to anything. Maybe that's why he has no reason to follow everyone's pace. He can finally find his pace. And with all of the struggle and burden that came to it, he finally made peace with time.

And it does reward him with something. Six years passed and he is about to reach residency. None of his first year college peers are in the same stage as him, so he has to adapt with seniors, a few years older than him. His world is now surrounded by adults, doctors and professors that gain interest in him because of his intellect. Opportunities are laid to him like a list of groceries that he could hand-pick which one he needs and cross off, because time is limited. Like money, he needs to allocate his resources as efficiently as possible.

As hard as it is, he also climbed to the top, into the high part of the food chain for someone his age. Many praise him for that, a young prodigy finishing his study years earlier than his peers, proving his outstanding capabilities. It came naturally for him since he knew this is what's coming. He watched his parents under the same spotlight before so it became an expectation for him to get the same. And he did.

Everyone who hears his story desires the same skills as him, the same spot, the same opportunities. But they never saw what he traded for those things.

Zayne doesn't remember the last time he didn't occupy his mind with his every thought. He doesn't remember what it was like to live outside of his head, never caring of how full or empty his brain was because there is no need to be aware of. Every thought flows in and out like a river in a summer, not trapped like a fish in a freezing pond. 

His head is now a frozen lake filled with salmon that can't get out to migrate. As if the ice forms a net to capture each one as a collection. It is full yet empty because they're trapped inside the ice. But eventually, the lake will be out of capacity and he doesn't know what will happen. He doesn't want to know.

He is under the spotlight now, so he can't be bothered by a frozen lake filled with thousands of salmon that needs to migrate. He doesn't want the lake to open because then it will truly be empty. Fish is good for distraction. Fish are good for motivation. So he can't let them go.

“Have you heard anything about Caleb?”

He froze. That name feels like a void to him, but at the same time it pulls him to a few years back. It took Zayne a few seconds to voice the answer everyone knows he will say.

“No…” 

A crack. In how he trails his answer that he himself caught surprised. 

“His sister is supposed to be in college right now, right? Did he not get into college?”

There's a tight rope binding his chest that his breathing isn't as easy as it was seconds ago. “I don't know,” is everything Zayne could muster to answer his mother. 

“I don't think he can. Poor boy. He has a little sister to take care of and their grandma didn't leave anything for him.”

Zayne glances at his mother who's grabbing a drink from the fridge. “Their grandma didn't?”

His mother shrugged. “If she left the house for them, then why would they need to move out?”

It makes sense. But it didn't for Caleb to move out without telling him. Even if Caleb never shared the same sentiment about their relationship like him, they were close. 

Close enough to keep their friendships for ten years. Close enough to offer each other's cooking when they got into the same college. Close enough to promise to meet up with each other when holiday comes even when they're far away. 

Close enough that Caleb showed his vulnerability in Zayne's embrace that day—the turning point of their relationship.

And he's still gone without a trace.

He wondered if he was more honest about his feelings at the library, would the outcome be different? Would Caleb at least give him more information of his whereabouts?

When Zayne realized his thoughts, he laughed at himself.

It's been six years and he is still haunted by a boy named Caleb.

—” Say what we want, say what we feel? ”—

Caleb stares at him who seems to avoid his gaze. But judging from the way Zayne doesn’t write anything since, even with a pen in his hold, Caleb knows there is something hidden beneath those words, something that is left unsaid.

”Ideally, we can.” Caleb leaned back to his chair, lifting his pen with his Evol, spinning it in the air. “Ideally we’ll always be together.”

Zayne was silent for a moment, until— “Until when?”

Caleb chuckled slightly. “Ideally?” He looks for Zayne’s eyes who’s already staring at him. “Until we finish our study, until you finish med school, until I can get a stable job.”

There’s another silence. Caleb wants to continue, but he isn’t sure if that’s the line he wants to cross. He doesn’t know if telling Zayne now is a good idea. He can’t physically imagine what Zayne might react after he said it.

”And then?” Zayne asked again.

Caleb can’t continue. Caleb won’t.

“Who knows?” Caleb shrugged, his smile teasing and Zayne seemed flustered about it as he immediately averted his gaze. 

“Don’t forget me when you became a successful surgeon,” Caleb said abruptly, changing the mood.

”You’re not an easy one to forget,” Zayne replied.

”So you’ll miss me if we ever get separated.”

Zayne smiles. “Ideally, we don't have to.”

Caleb’s heart leaps. “Aww, so you don't want to be separated from me?”

Zayne doesn’t reply. Instead, he looks towards the window, adoring the city lights. “Ten years we have been friends together. It feels like just yesterday we played house with your sister.”

Caleb almost burst out laughing before Zayne shushed him, afraid that they’ll get kicked out of the library. “We used to fight over who will take the role of dad since Emmy was always the mother.”

”You mean, you fight with Emmy whether you should be the Dad or I,” Zayne corrected.

Caleb shrugged. “It only makes sense that I’m the Dad.”

”That is after you argued to Emmy since she’s younger, she should be playing the child role. Somehow I became a mom.”

”You never argued.”

”After the two of you argued over the role, I don’t want to disturb the truce.”

Caleb is still holding his laughter. “You were a good ‘mom’”

”Thank you, honey .”

— ”Oh why can't you for once,” —

Zayne thought by blocking any thought of Caleb in the midst of the crowd, hoping to find a glimpse of his face, he'd finally stop whatever feelings he had for him. By the time Caleb stops being his first thought when someone asks about his relationship status, he can finally move on from him. But truly, who is he lying to?

He looks at his desk, filled with medical books and a single trophy that he recently received, one of his many collections. Through the floor-to-roof window, he watches snow falling from the night sky, then slightly shifts his focus to the reflective display of his room inside, bright and warm.

Years ago, he made reasons, figuring a logical explanation of what could possibly make Caleb had to do what he did. At that time, he was too young and naive of how the world works. His emotions get over his judgment and blame Caleb for missing without telling him. 

He never revisits the thought and now that he heard his name again, he tried to scrap whatever crumbs left in his memory about Caleb. 

Caleb .

Everything about his high school memories has Caleb in it. Their favorite food in the cafeteria, Caleb's hiding spot when he purposely missed class, the basketball ground where he played after school, the P.E. teachers and their favoritism towards him, the physics teacher who always caught him sleeping, the school principal that somehow he befriended, the cleaning lady who always gave him access to the sports equipment. 

At that time, Zayne didn't feel like the lake was frozen. At that time, his mind was as clear as a river by the mountain they once visited together for outings. 

At that time, he had Caleb.

— ”Disregard the world and run to what you know is real.” —

”Thank you, honey .”

Once again, Caleb’s heart leaps out of his rib that he froze on the spot. After making sure his heart stays beating inside his chest, loudly, he looks at Zayne. “What?” A question, but it sounds like he’s looking for affirmation.

Realizing what he just said, Zayne quickly explained. ”That’s what I used to call you before, remember? Emmy forced me to call you that when we played.”

”Oh…hahaha, right…”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean—“

”No! It’s fine. I was just…it’s late, my brain isn’t catching up quickly, sorry.”

”No, it is getting late. Should we go back?”

Caleb doesn’t respond. Instead. 

“Zayne.”

”Hm?”

”If the time fits, can we hang out again in college? It could be during vacation.”

The thought of it made him smile. ”Of course. We can get together with Emmy as well.”

”No,” the word left his mouth faster than he can process, “I mean, just the two of us.”

Zayne looked into his purple eyes, finding all the emotions he never thought he'd be able to understand with just a look. There’s no explanation needed. He knows because he knew.

”Sure,” Zayne answered. But he is also a coward. “We don’t even need to go out somewhere. I’d cook you something.”

”But I’m a better cook than you.”

”Is that a challenge?”

”I couldn’t have asked a stressed med student to cook for me.”

Zayne chuckles. “If it's on holiday, then I can surely have time to cook for you.”

”So if it’s not a holiday, I’m the cook?”

”Sure, if that’s what you want.”

”That is exactly what I want. I’ll even make you a bento if we go to the same campus.”

Zayne laughs. “You won’t be as free as well, you know? Not only med students that’s busy with their study.”

Caleb shrugs. “I often cook for my family. Cooking for one more person won’t be a hassle.”

Those simple words made Zayne’s stomach warm and fuzzy all of a sudden. There’s nothing out of the ordinary in Caleb's words. He just said it out of careness, nonchalantly. But in the back of Zayne’s mind, there’s a whisper of hope. A hope that made his heart beat faster at the possibility of something he’s too scared to say out loud.

“Zayne?”

Then what am I to you?

But he’s much of a coward to say that. “You don’t need to do that. I can cook for myself just fine.”

Caleb pouts. “But I want to. Would you let me?” He gives him puppy eyes that Zayne can’t resist a smile forming on his face.

”We need to be in the same vicinity for that to happen,” Zayne said. 

“Then I’d make sure you won’t miss your meal,” Caleb said, confidently. “You won’t suffer from acid reflux on my watch!”

”I never had that.”

”Well who knows?”

The soft, shared laughter between them drifts through the library, barely audible to those seated at a distance. But no one sushed them—maybe too tired to complain or too focused to care. It’s late and the heavy quiet of the library settles over everything, a dense calm that presses into the air. Yet, in the far corner, the two of them exist in their own little bubble, a world apart from the gloom that hangs over the rest of the space.  A space for them to find solace, to explore the distant future that feels alien, yet filled with every possibility.

Who could’ve guessed that one of them would be the one to burst that bubble?

“I’m sorry, Zayne.”

That’s the first thing that Caleb said to him face-to-face when he’s attending his grandma’s funeral.

It all happened in a blink of an eye. Zayne immediately jumps from his bed when he reads Caleb’s message that was sent by midnight. They got into a traffic accident and Zayne immediately asked his parents if they could check Caleb and Emmy’s name in the hospital they worked in. 

Fortunately, both of them survived. Unfortunately, one of them didn’t.

“Why are you sorry?” Zayne brings him to an embrace. “I will always be here whenever you need me.”

Caleb doesn’t say anything. He hugs him back and buried his face on Zayne’s shoulder. Zayne could’ve sworn Caleb’s tension finally relaxes and his hug is tighter.

”It’s going to be alright,” Zayne whispers gently while rubbing his back. He is not the type to offer comfort through physical touch, but today is different. Today an exception must be made, especially for Caleb. 

“Caleb?” A fragile, small voice caught their attention. Before Zayne can see the source of the voice, Caleb immediately releases himself from the hug and turn his back towards a little girl, eyes red and puffy, evidently exhausted from crying.

”Emmy,” Caleb reached for her and suddenly, the boy who was weak in his embrace was gone, replaced by the firm figure that immediately comforted his little sister in need. “Sorry, I was talking to Zayne. Are you tired?”

She nods weakly before glancing towards Zayne. He bows his head slightly and she does the same, a quiet exchange between them. She grabs Caleb’s hand firmly and Zayne can see that she is fighting back tears to burst again.

“We’ll go back home asap, okay? I just have to talk to…” Caleb's eyes are spotting someone in a distance. When he’s about to walk away, he turns back to look at Zayne. A sad smile painted on his face as he said a sentence that Zayne never expected to hear from him.

“Goodbye, Zayne.”

There’s a part of Zayne that wishes Caleb said it not with its literal meaning. He hopes it’s just a slip and they’ll see each other again soon. 

They already talked about their future together, afterall. 

— ”Take a chance with me.” —

Zayne’s wish came true. 

Caleb appeared again in front of him, injured and unconscious on a gurney. He almost froze in place when he recognized that face. 

“Get the defibrillator!”

There’s another commotion in the next bed, a distressful one. Zayne knows what it is. He had seen it before countless times in the emergency room. Doctors and nurses are moving as quickly as they could, battling time to save someone’s life. Zayne recognizes the woman lying there with the ECG showing weak pulses. He watches the medical attendance doing CPR on her and by the looks of it, he already knows the outcome. He watches the monitor, showing her pulse getting weaker and weaker by the second. 

It’s useless—yet he still watched it, wishing for a miracle to happen. Praying that he won’t have to lose his childhood friend again. But alas, the monitor displays a straight line, along with a long screeching sound. His heart sank.

The familiar face laying there is lifeless. She is no longer breathing.

Zayne glanced over to Caleb. The monitor besides him beeped steadily, a zigzag of green tracing a normal rhythm. He’d made it through the worst. He is alive.

But there is no relief. 

He lost a friend that night. 

But Caleb lost a sister.

Zayne watched Emmy’s face one last time before the white cloth slipped over it, final and quiet. The doctor’s voice cut through the stillness, calmly announcing her time of death. He had witnessed countless scenes like this before—even before he was an intern. He’d always believed he’d grow numb to it eventually. 

But this time, it stings like nothing before. Oxygen thinning in the air, drought struck the air-gate, and finally, the world fall in deaf silent. He stands there in silence, clenching his fist and digging his short nails through to ground himself, like having a wet cloth blocking the tunnel. 

Until something caught his attention; a phone ringing from Emmy’s bed. 

The nurse near lifted the phone that he recognized would be Emmy’s, with her favorite color and little decorations around it. Zayne immediately steps forward. 

“Dr. Zayne, do you know the patient?”

Zayne nods. “She’s…my friend.” Was.

The nurse gave a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry for your loss. Then, could you please inform her family or relatives?”

The phone died shortly and Zayne secured it in his pocket. Zayne turns to the bed beside him where Caleb is still lying unconscious. “I will take care of it.”

The reunion he wished for feels like a twisted joke that fate brought upon him. There’s no excitement nor resentment. Only anticipation. 

They moved Caleb to a room and Zayne returned to his work. Trying to occupy himself while waiting for Caleb to wake up. Though he can manage to maintain his expression and professionalism, deep down he knows he can break anytime. If he allowed himself to stop, to rest, to be consumed by his own thoughts…. 

Zayne shook his head. Not now.

Time is ticking and he can no longer be allowed to get outrun by it. Not again.

So he continued his work until his shift was over. And finally— finally , he waited for Caleb.

When Caleb finally stirred, his lashes fluttering against the harsh white of hospital lights, Zayne was already there—still and quiet.

He waited until Caleb's breathing had evened out, until the confusion in his eyes gave way to clarity. 

“Zayne?”

His voice was hoarse, heavier than he remembered. Zayne forced a smile but it vanished before it ever reached his eyes. 

“How are you feeling?”

Those purple eyes squinting against the harsh light, looking around and scanning the room. He groaned softly, blinked a few times, then turned—finally—toward Zayne. And when their eyes met, something in Zayne nearly shattered. 

“You truly became a doctor, huh? That’s good.” 

There was no teasing in his voice. Just quiet awe. And that aching gentleness—the kind that made Zayne’s breath hitch in his chest. For a moment, all the years that separated them crumbled. It was truly him. Truly Caleb. Alive, blinking, hurting, real.

There’s a part of Zayne that wants to blabber about everything, to share what happened during the time they’re separated. But it’s not the time for that. Because now, this moment isn’t about the two of them.

He swallowed hard. His fingers trembled slightly on his side. Then, gently, Zayne spoke.

“Caleb,” he said, “there’s something you need to know.”

Caleb didn’t blink. He just looked at Zayne—like he already knew, like some part of him had carried the weight even in unconsciousness.

Still, Zayne continued. This isn't his first time becoming the news bearer. Yet, it never gets easier. Because sometimes knowing still isn’t the same as hearing it aloud.

“It’s about Emmy,” he said. “She didn’t make it.”

Silence poured into the room like cold water.

Caleb didn’t move. He just turned his gaze slowly to the ceiling—as if hoping for something there. Then through his eyes, Zayne witnessed how everything inside him seemed to fall apart.

Zayne couldn’t speak. There was nothing that could soften the truth. 

He watched the way the light left Caleb’s eyes, replaced by something vast and echoing. Not rage. Not disbelief. Just…hollow acceptance. The kind that comes when a heart already knows, but was hoping—begging—to be wrong. 

Caleb's eyes were still wide open, but distant now. Distant in a way that made Zayne’s stomach twist. There was peace there, but the wrong kind. The kind that doesn’t comfort—it just ends something.

“I will give you some space,”  Zayne said softly and left the room. Though, even when the door shut behind him, he can’t seem to walk away from there. It felt like his chest had finally found its anchor—after drifting for so long—but now that he had it, he no longer felt he had the right to hold on. 

If they were anything like before, Zayne would’ve stayed. He would’ve taken Caleb’s hand into his own as an act of comfort. He’d at least said something. 

But now?

They are nothing.

Or that’s how Zayne perceived it, after years of silence with only empty space and time, carved between them.

Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was fear. Or maybe it was just ego disguised as grief and empathy—something easier to carry than the truth. The truth that he'd walked away when Caleb might’ve needed him most. That when the chance came to be there—to just be there for him—he did what he hadn’t done all those years ago:

Nothing.

And now, all he had left was guilt. Heavy, suffocating, constant. It clung to him like the sterile scent of the hospital.

His feet moved before his mind could catch up, carrying him somewhere—anywhere—away from here, away from the room, away from Caleb . 

With his guilt screaming in his ears, silence only made it more deafening. 

So he walked faster—down the corridor, past nurses and monitors blinking in quiet defiance. Past the vending machines, past the rows of chairs where families waited with wrung hands and restless knees. Past the smell of antiseptic and cheap coffee and something else—grief, maybe, or memory.

He didn’t stop until he was outside, where the world was unapologetically loud.

Vehicles stopped on their track unwillingly. Police sirens wailed somewhere down the street, their blue and red lights cutting through the air like frantic warnings. Cars and motorcycles honked in sharp bursts, voices raised in frustration and fatigue, drivers shouting at one another as if anger could make the traffic run. It was all noise—blunt and unfeeling.

Zayne stood on the curb, the cold biting through his scrubs, letting the chaos rush over him.

But it wasn’t loud enough.

Not enough to drown the resurging memories of his high school years.

Not enough to erase the face of Emmy’s last moment.

Not enough to silence the gnawing blame he put on himself, the pride that overran his heart to not offer Caleb any comfort when he needed the most.

His breath hitched, the cold air burning his lungs as tears pricked behind his eyes—tears he fought to hold back.

Because if he let himself fall apart here, on this noisy street, it would all come crashing down. The memories, the guilt, the unbearable weight of what he had lost—and what he had never said.

He clenched his fists tighter, nails digging into his palms, grounding himself against the storm inside.

But the storm was far from over.

Somewhere behind him, the hospital lights glowed—cold and distant. And somewhere inside, Caleb was still in that room, wrestling with his own silence.

Zayne knew one thing with certainty: this could be their only chance. Just like how those years ago when they thought they still had the chance to see each other again, if he doesn’t treat this like his last chance to ever to see Caleb again, he will lose him again.

He tilted his head up, taking in a shuddering breath and started walking back—back to the hospital, back to the room, back to the place where words still needed to be spoken.

But much to his surprise, Caleb is already standing in front of the front desk—tall and still pale, but upright, steady in a way that unsettled Zayne more than if he’d found him falling apart. 

He’s still wearing the torn and weary uniform from the time he first arrived here on the gurney. Strangely, despite Emmy’s condition, Caleb doesn’t have a serious injury on his body. 

His hands rested calmly on the counter, talking to the nurse so calmly. But there was something restrained in his posture, like a thread pulled taut just beneath the surface. 

He turned as if sensing Zayne behind him. Their eyes met—and for a moment, neither of them moved.

Zayne opened his mouth, but nothing came. The words got caught at the back of his throat—the apology he thought he owed—dissolved the second he saw the look on Caleb’s face.

It wasn’t anger.

It wasn’t even grief.

It was emptiness. A hollow that mirrored Zayne’s own.

For a moment, there’s only silence stretched between them. Until Caleb turns back towards the nurse he talked with and Zayne stepping closer, finally having the courage when Caleb isn't looking. He nods towards the nurse as an acknowledgement. 

“The nurse here said your shift already ended.”

“Oh,” the sentence caught him off guard. It sounds more like a flat statement. Undemanding. “I…can't–” and he stopped himself. Not even him knew what he meant by that. Zayne hides his panic behind that expressionless face, but the awkward silent following after can't be ignored.

Thankfully, Caleb changed the topic. “I just finished signing some documents for Emmy.”

Zayne instantly looked at him, eyes widened in surprise. He can't read him. There's no way the Caleb that he knew would be this…calm—especially after hearing his sister is gone. 

Moreover, right after he woke up?

It was a short time for Caleb since he was informed of his sister's situation. He thought he'd at least shed a tear or crash out somewhat after hearing it. But there's no such thing. 

Anyone can see weariness and emptiness in Caleb’s eyes, but he's too calm. Too calm that it's almost unsettling.

Seeing Zayne's face, Caleb sighed. “You should worry about yourself rather than me.”

Zayne couldn't hide it anymore. Confusion and worry is displayed so vividly on his usual stoic face. “You…”

Caleb taps on his shoulder twice then walks towards his room. Zayne stood there for a second, feeling like he shouldn't follow him. Like they're at the end of a different brink of cliffs, separated by a huge chasm. 

And he's leaving him. Again.

Half a step is the only courage he had before unforeseen force froze him in place. The ground is putting him in place like it had a mind of its own. And part of Zayne agreed. Maybe it's unsalvageable. Maybe it's truly the end. Maybe there can be nothing between them anymore.

But when he's about to turn his heel around, his hand finds Emmy’s phone is still in his pocket. He grasped it in his palm, remembering Emmy in her final moments. He should at least give this back to him, whatever the case, it needs to be him who returned it. So he followed suit, trailing Caleb’s footsteps.

He opens the door and finds Caleb standing by the window. The cold air struck his skin but he couldn't care less. His attention focused on Caleb’s silhouette, different than he remembered. It looks weary yet strong. Burdened yet light, weirdly enough.

Clicking sound from the door is the only noise echoing the room before it dissipates into the thick atmosphere. But the room is serene, dimmed from inside. Cold air flows gently,  flailing the thin curtains in the air. 

Zayne clenched his hold on the phone, as if it gave him courage to open his mouth again. 

“Caleb,” he holds his breath. “I found—”

The phone rings again, with a familiar ringtone that only Emmy would use. It echoed in the room and Zayne could only stare at it. 

“Who is it?” Caleb asked calmly.

Zayne immediately pulled out the phone and read the screen. “It’s…Tara?”

The ring died down. Zayne read the notifications displayed and found 56 missed calls under the name ‘Tara’. 

Suddenly it rang again. But now, Caleb walked towards him and took the phone. He slides the screen to answer and brings it to his ear. Either the volume is too loud or the silence in the room is too much, Tara’s voice can be heard from the phone. 

“Emmy! Are you okay? I can’t reach you for so long! Where are you!? You can’t just disappear like that!”

Caleb let the person on the other end finish and wait for his turn. “Hello,” he greeted in the calmest voice ever, much to Zayne’s disbelief. “This is Emmy’s brother.”

“O-oh, hello. Is Emmy there?”

There’s a pause and Zayne’s eyes catch that glimpse of weakness. A slight change in Caleb’s eyes before it went back to neutral. “Emmy didn’t make it.”

And now, the pause is getting longer, heavier, suffocating. 

The voice across the phone stuttered in disbelief. “...Wh-what? What do you—”

“She is dead.”

The words struck like a thorned needle piercing his chest, stitching his heart shut even as it bled. The grief, unspoken, seeped into his lungs, thick and suffocating But the bleeding made its way into his lungs, drowning just from hearing it. 

“That’s all.” Caleb immediately ended the call. 

The screen dimmed as the call ended, casting a dull reflection of Caleb’s face—expressionless, unreadable.

Zayne stood frozen a few steps away, unable to find his voice. The words still echoed in the room, heavier than the silence that followed. 

She is dead.  

Final. Cold.

Caleb lowered the phone, his hand moved swiftly as he tucked it into his pocket. He didn’t look at Zayne. He didn’t look at anything.

“Thank you for keeping her phone, Zayne.”

A quiet statement, almost gentle. But in its softness, a blade. The words didn’t reach out—they pushed away. Dismissal cloaked in courtesy. Without saying it outright, Caleb had already drawn a line between them.

And Zayne knew.

He wasn’t meant to cross it.

But how long was he meant to stay behind the line?

They thought they had time.

He thought he they had plenty of time.

But would they still have the chance?

Zayne swallowed hard, his fist tightening as if to hold himself together. Then, slowly, he found his voice.

“Caleb…” he said. Just his name—soft, uncertain. A start.

“How… are you?”

A clumsy question. Awkward, even. But Zayne didn’t care. He just needed to speak. To reach out. To try—no matter how fragile the thread.

Caleb didn’t answer. Didn’t turn. His silence was not cruel, only distant—like someone standing behind glass, unreachable.

Instead, he walked back toward the window—the one that had been left open. A breeze moved through the curtain, gentle but cool against the heaviness in the room.

He stood there, staring out at the city lights—so alive, so indifferent.

Zayne started again, quieter this time. “Where have you been? I couldn’t reach you—or Emmy—for so long, and now you just show up…”

The rest caught in his throat. The words tasted like ash. He knew it hurt him—but it had to hurt Caleb even more.

“Can’t you just tell me?” he pleaded. “Where were you? What happened to you and…”

He bit his lip, too afraid to finish her name after what happened to her.

The wind blew harder through the open window, catching the curtain and brushing against Caleb’s arm. But he didn’t flinch. He stood motionless, eyes still fixed on the city below—alive, glittering, unbothered.

Then, finally, he spoke.

“We had to leave our old home. For safety. Emmy and I agreed it was best to keep you out of it. Out of our lives.”

Zayne stepped forward, hurt and confused. “Why? Weren't we friends?”

For the first time, Caleb turned to look at him—his eyes hollow, his mouth curling into a bitter, broken smile.

“You think we didn’t know?”

Zayne froze.

“We knew. Both of us. You should’ve gone to that private school—skipped grades, taken the offers. But you didn’t.”

Zayne opened his mouth, but the words were slow to come. “That—”

“You have no reason to refuse those offers. There's just no logical explanation.”

“The private school was just too expensive, and the grade—”

Caleb gave a dry, humorless laugh. “HAH! don't try to play that one, Zayne. We both know that isn't true at all. Your parents can definitely afford it just fine.”

Zayne looked away, silent.

Caleb’s voice softened, not with sympathy, but with something almost sad. “You would throw away the opportunity given to you just so you can stay close to us. Sometimes I wonder if you're a genius or an idiot.”

Zayne still didn’t respond.

“You know? Emmy was the first one who brought this up,” Caleb continued. “At first, she was excited. You’d be in school with me, and she’d join us soon. But later… she figured it out. Wondered why someone like you would give up everything like that.

“I too questioned it, if the two of us were really the reason you didn't take that chance to advance, feeling like an arrogant idiot. But, turns out it's true, huh? The moment we stepped out of your world, you soar the sky like how you should be. Spreading your wings like you should have been years ago.”

Zayne stood in silence, chest tight.

“So believe me when I say this is for the best,” Caleb finished. “Stay out of our— my life. For your own good.”

Zayne didn’t move. His feet were heavy, like they’d rooted to the floor.

“But why?” he whispered.

Caleb turned back to the window, gaze far and unreachable. “Tomorrow, when the sun rises, I'll hold a funeral ceremony for Emmy. And after that, we don't have to see each other anymore.”

“No.” Zayne stepped forward, his voice sharper. “Why?” 

He stood beside Caleb now, close enough to feel the cold coming off him. The window framed them both—two silhouettes against a city that kept on glowing.

Caleb didn’t turn. He didn’t have to. “Safety.”

A single word. Cold. Final. 

Like a door slamming shut, shattering everything he once knew.

Zayne's voice rose, desperate. “What are you talking about? Are you in danger? Is that what happened to you before coming to this hospital? To Emmy?”

No answer. Caleb’s silence was a wall.

“ Answer me! ”

But Caleb only looked away.

Zayne’s emotions surged, uncontained. The frozen lake he’d kept locked inside for years cracked beneath the weight. There was too much pain, too much left unsaid. And it flooded.

“I’m only asking for an explanation, Caleb. Would you throw away our friendship of over 8 years? I didn't ask for much, only a little something to know that you're still alive somewhere. I just want to know if you are alive.” 

He didn’t notice his tears until it hit the toe of his shoe.

His arms hung at his sides. Empty. Shaking.

“I can’t lose you too…”

And with that, the dam broke.

No more frozen lake. Only a storm of grief, roaring and relentless. Zayne looked down, unable to meet Caleb’s eyes. Tears streamed freely now, soaking into the shoes he couldn’t lift to run—or to move forward.

And yet, amid the flood of emotion came the crash of guilt. Immediate. Crushing.

How selfish—shameless—to say that to someone who had just lost his sister. To make it about himself. To cry in front of the one person who had every right to fall apart and yet hadn’t. Caleb, who had protected her with everything he had.

Zayne’s breath caught in his throat, as if holding it might stop the tears. Might stop the pain. Might freeze time itself.

But even that was selfish.

The cold breeze swept through the room again, sharp enough to sting the spine. But neither of them moved. Neither looked at the other. Neither reached out.

Six years ago, they would have been in each other's arms, comforting the other without question. 

But now?

Now, they were ghosts of what used to be.

Zayne clenched his fists, his shoulders trembling with the weight of everything he couldn’t say.

Unknowing to him, Caleb is doing the same. Gripping tightly to the line he had drawn, fighting not to cross it for a moment of weakness.

This lake had been frozen for so long, sealed by silence and grief. But Caleb… Caleb had returned, and suddenly, nothing held. Not anymore.

The lake will be empty in no time. He wouldn't have anything by then. So now, he held on anything that he could. Just so there is something, anything.

He holds on to Caleb.

“Don't go,” he muttered under his breath. Gaining a little courage, he said firmly “don't disappear on me again.”

Zayne figures Caleb will dismiss him, saying something along that he is silly for even saying that. But he didn't. Caleb stood there in silence, avoiding Zayne’s gaze. 

And that said everything that he needs to know. 

Zayne’s chest tightened. “Caleb…” He stepped closer, trying to meet his eyes. “Please look at me.”

Caleb finally did. His expression was distant—sad, and tired. A weak smile tugged at his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“You shouldn't meddle with someone like me, Zayne.”

Zayne's frown deepened. “What are you talking about?” 

“I am involved with bad people. I'll be dangerous to your life.”

Zayne's breath caught. “What…?”

Caleb squeezed his hand gently. “You're doing well with your career now. You're on the right path. I'm happy for you.” He let go, fingers slipping away like snowflakes melting at the touch of warmth. “But you shouldn't get involved with me. I will only put a speck in your gleaming reputation.”

“You would nev—”

“I’ve killed people.”

That’s the moment Zayne can’t hear anything. The world around him dimmed, as if his brain refused to register anything except that one sentence. 

“If you mean Emmy, then—”

“No,” Caleb shook his head, “I’ve killed another person and it will happen again in the future.”

What?

His gaze sharpened—no longer just looking, but searching . For a lie, for remorse, for something to disprove the quiet horror of Caleb’s words. But Caleb just stood there, smiling. Calm. Unapologetic. Not trying to justify or deny it. It simply was . As if the truth no longer needed dressing up. 

And how should he respond?

Six years ago he would know what to say right away, instantly, like there’s no better answer than that. But now? After he said his oath? Could he, a doctor who meant to save lives, siding with someone who ended another’s life?

“You… you must’ve had a reason. A good reason. You wouldn’t just—”

Caleb laughed.

Not softly. Not nervously. But loud—hysterical. Cruel.

The sound slapped the hope out of Zayne’s mouth.

“Ah, Zayne…” Caleb’s voice dropped, laced with bitter amusement. “You can’t be that naive, can you?”

He leaned in, gaze locking. For the first time, Zayne recoiled— actually recoiled—from the sight of those violet eyes.

“There’s the smart guy I remember,” Caleb said, grin sharpening. “Always a step ahead. It shouldn’t be that hard to figure out.”

He tilted his head, voice almost sing-song. “I gave you the biggest clue already.”

Instinctively, Zayne backed away a little. What .

“Turns out,” Caleb said, his voice lower now, “a normal life was too much to ask for. Even when we were quiet, even when we kept our heads down, it wasn’t enough.” He looked at Zayne, something broken flickering in his expression. “And now... they got what they wanted.”

Riddled by the words that Caleb spouts, Zayne could only stand there in silence, trying to make sense of what Caleb was trying to say.

 “Who are they ?” he asked quietly. 

But Caleb didn’t answer. He only stared at him—empty, tired.

“You should go.”

Zayne shook his head. His throat tightened. 

“No.”

Just that. One word, all he could manage at first.

His voice trembled, but he didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Because everything— this —already felt like it was about to slip through his fingers.

“Not until you explain where you’ve been all these years. You disappeared, Caleb. You left me like none of what we had meant anything.” His voice cracked. “I waited. You were gone after your grandmother passed, and I kept hoping—”

He stopped himself. Saying it out loud felt too presumptuous— too much . But he couldn’t silence what he truly wanted. So he stepped closer. Flicker of hope in his pair of hazel’s, aiming with the last shred of bravery. 

Maybe everything doesn’t need to end here. Maybe they have another chance.

“Did it mean nothing to you?” The question came out soft—barely a whisper. But it was raw, bleeding.

Zayne’s breath hitched as the words tumbled out, faster now, too full of everything he had buried and left unsaid.

And then—Caleb looked at him.

Eyes unreadable. Jaw clenched. Heart long-shuttered.

“We weren’t anything.”

Hurt. Like a scalpel being thrust into his heart.

“And we won't be anything together.”

A silence hung between them. Sharp. Hollow.

But Zayne didn’t move back. So what if his heart bleeds even more? Damage has been done. Whether it gets worse or not doesn’t matter anymore. Even if it's his ego taking over. 

“If we won't be anything then be honest for once. Be honest with your feelings,” Zayne asked, almost begging. “Was there really nothing between us? Tell me the truth.”

Caleb didn’t answer. Not with words.

He closed the distance instead, grabbed him, and kissed him. It was quiet and quick. Nothing too deep but not too shallow to not be anything.

When he pulled back, his voice was quiet, but resolute. “This is my answer for all those years.” He lingered for a second, eyes caught between wanting to stay and knowing he never could. “You shouldn't seek me anymore.”

Caleb was about to walk past him, but Zayne reached out, clutching his sleeve. His last attempt. His last hope.

Eyes seeking, anything that could prolong this. “Was there really no chance for us to become real?” Zayne asked, voice barely holding together.

No immediate answer. Just a long, painful silence. Then Caleb’s hand moved to Zayne’s, gently prying it from his sleeve. His touch was tender—too tender for someone trying to walk away.

“Right now, you’re walking on a red carpet—stellar reputation, surrounded by people as brilliant as you. If you get involved with me, you’ll throw all of that away—your hard work, your family, your life.” There’s a faint smile on Caleb’s face and his eyes, for once, had a faint light for a second. “I can’t take that from you. Not again.”

Zayne's heart sank.

“What if I'm willing to? Just like before.”

Caleb let out a bitter laugh, quiet and sharp. “We are no longer kids anymore. We grew up. You have responsibilities now and I know you are bound to it.”

Zayne looked at him. “Are you bound with it too?”

“Yes,” Caleb answered sharply. “I’m bound to responsibility. Consequences . To debts that don’t disappear just because I want to.”

Zayne swallowed hard, his throat burning.

Caleb’s voice dropped, quieter now—wounded in places Zayne couldn’t reach.

“My sister’s gone.” He looked away, eyes hollow. But there’s a slight shift of weight in his voice. “And with her went everything that kept me from becoming what I am now.” He walked past him, not turning until he reached the door. “There’s a price I have to pay. A life I chose. After this... we don’t know each other anymore.”

Caleb holds the handle firmly, making the gap wider, then turned towards Zayne. 

“You should go.”

— ”Take a chance with me.” —

Caleb stares at Zayne’s sleeping face across from him. He didn’t want to wake him, who had fallen asleep so deeply—still wearing his glasses.

Their conversation that night had left Caleb in quiet reflection. He glanced at Zayne, then towards the large window beside them. The glittering night view outside could easily captivate anyone who looked, but Caleb’s gaze wasn’t fixed on that. His eyes looked further—much further—beyond the time they were in now. Toward illusions born of hope and the possibilities of their conversation become real.

He gave a faint smile at the thought. His gaze returned to the pitch-black hair in front of him. Slowly, he tilted his head, once again looking at Zayne who’s still in deep sleep. There was a hint of weariness on his face—something rarely seen in someone so typically unreadable like him.

“If we both passed the test, I’ll confess to you how I really feel.” Caleb whispered very softly, afraid someone might hear—or more precisely, afraid that Zayne might.

He looked again at the sleeping face. No reaction.

“Zayne,” he called, a little louder.

Still no response.

Caleb smiled. He leaned in close to Zayne’s ear and whispered once more.

“I promise.”

—✺✺✺—

Emmy's funeral was simple and quiet. 

The sky hung heavy, gray and unmoving, as if mourning with them. 

Zayne stood beneath a black umbrella, the rain barely touching him, yet he felt soaked to the bone. There weren’t many people—just a few elderly neighbors who still remembered the family. His parents were there too, hovering close, worried eyes casting sideways glances. They asked if he was okay. He only shook his head, the weight in his chest far too heavy to speak around.

He didn’t cry. He just watched.

Watched as Caleb stood a few feet away. Close, yet already too far.

There was a time they would’ve stood side by side. Now, they looked like strangers. Two lives that had once been touched by accident.

Caleb made his rounds, thanking everyone who came—gracious, composed, even kind. He greeted Zayne’s parents with a quiet nod of respect. And then, at last, he turned to him.

They stood face to face.

No words at first. Only the rain. And silence thick enough to drown in.

Zayne searched his face for something—recognition, regret, anything. But Caleb just looked at him, unreadable, a ghost wearing the skin of someone he used to know.

Then, finally, Caleb gave a small nod.

“Goodbye, Zayne.”

Zayne didn’t answer.

That one word cracked the last fragile thread he'd been clinging to. The hope, the memories, the ache that maybe—just maybe—something could still be salvaged.

But there was nothing left to save.

So Zayne exhaled everything that still left.

“Goodbye,” he said quietly, barely louder than the rain.

A farewell to Emmy.

To Caleb.

To all the unexpressed feelings that no longer had a chance to emerge.