On the basketball court, Di gripped Lan's wrist tightly, his voice low and trembling.
"He prepared for this moment for so long… How could you reject him like that?"
The words dropped like a stone into water, sending heavy ripples through Jie's chest. He stood frozen, and suddenly—he was pulled back to another moment. A hot afternoon. The sting of chalk dust. The start of everything.
—
Back then, Jie was just a fifth grader.
His grades were above average, he was athletic, and he had that natural charisma that made people want to be around him.
He wasn't dazzling enough to make others jealous, but he was bright—easy to talk to, quick to laugh, and always in the middle of a group without trying too hard.
That afternoon, he brought a brand-new collectible card to class—limited-edition Pikachu, the flash version. He tucked it between his books, planning to show it off after class. But when the bell rang, and he reached for it—it was gone.
He searched through his bag three times, pulled out his drawers, even checked under the seat. Nothing. Frustration climbed his throat like heat.
Then his eyes landed on a boy in the back row—someone new, quiet, with his head buried in a workbook.
Di.
He sat alone, always writing, never speaking. So quiet you'd forget he was there—until silence made him the only thing you noticed.
"You see a card here?" Jie asked, walking up to his desk, voice tight but controlled.
Di looked up, calm. "No."
"I left it here. Flash Pikachu. Gold trim."
"I didn't touch your stuff."
The way he spoke—unhurried, emotionless—made Jie uneasy. That stillness felt like a wall, and something about it irritated him. Without thinking, he reached for Di's bag.
"What are you doing?" Di stood up quickly and blocked his hand. Their arms clashed against the edge of the desk with a dull thud.
The classroom fell silent.
The teacher turned, voice sharp: "You two—outside. Now."
—
The hallway walls were washed in sunset orange. Jie leaned against the wall, still gripping his bag, heart pounding.
He wasn't angry anymore—just tangled up inside. He hated not knowing. Hated that the look in Di's eyes hadn't seemed guilty at all.
"You really didn't take it?" Jie asked eventually.
Di stood a few steps away, still facing the window. "No."
The words came flat, with no resentment. Just a fact.
Jie exhaled, muttering, "Then… I guess I was wrong."
Silence again.
Then, from down the hallway, a soft voice called out:
"Is this yours?"
They both turned.
A girl with a low ponytail walked toward them, backlit by golden light. In her hand was a glimmering flash Pikachu card.
"I found this near the water cooler," she said gently, eyes flicking toward Jie. "Thought it might belong to someone in this class."
Jie's face flushed. He reached out and took the card.
"Yeah… It's mine. Thanks."
She smiled. "Be more careful next time."
With that, she turned and walked back into the classroom, leaving a trail of light behind her.
Jie stared down at the card. His chest tightened—not because of the card, but because of the feeling settling in.
He'd accused someone who hadn't done anything wrong. Loudly. Publicly. And worst of all—Di hadn't even gotten mad.
He turned to him, voice low. "Sorry. I got carried away."
Di didn't look back at him. After a pause, he simply said, "Do you believe me now?"
—
Back on the court, Di let go of Lan's wrist. She stepped back slightly, gaze lowered.
Jie stood still. That same line from long ago echoed in his mind:
Do you believe me now?
That misunderstanding had been the start of their friendship.
But now, as he watched the two of them—Di's quiet protectiveness, Lan's unreadable silence—Jie felt something else creeping in.
Something he couldn't name.
He didn't know what had happened between them.
He only knew—there was something there he hadn't seen before.
Something… he might never have noticed, until now.