Daniel let out a long, slow sigh, his gaze drifting toward the fading horizon. The weight of his next words pressed against him, and for once, he seemed hesitant. Then, in a voice lower than usual, one devoid of arrogance or pretense, he spoke.
"I've been watching you, analyzing how you move—especially when we're in front of each other. At first, I didn’t think much of it, but over time… I started learning from you. And before I even realized it, it started affecting me."
George frowned slightly, unsure of where this was going.
"That’s why I’m here," Daniel continued. "To tell you that I’m transferring out again. There’s still something I need to achieve, and I don’t think I can do it here."
There was no usual smugness in his voice. No mocking grin. Just a simple, quiet resignation.
George had expected a lot of things from Daniel over time—taunts, competition, even thinly veiled threats—but never this. Never honest words spoken with sincerity.
Daniel rubbed the back of his neck, as if struggling with something before forcing out a small, almost self-deprecating chuckle.
"You know, I’ve always gotten the feeling that you’re either scared of me or just completely on edge whenever I’m around. But still…" He trailed off before meeting George’s eyes, his expression oddly soft. "I was hoping we could’ve been friends."
He let the last word linger, as if testing how it would sound in the open air.
"Friends."
George felt his breath hitch. Daniel wasn’t acting. There was no ulterior motive, no hidden meaning buried beneath his words. For the first time, he was just... Daniel.
The moment stretched between them, fragile and delicate, like a glass thread that could break with the wrong response.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Then, with a quiet exhale, George reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. He hesitated for only a second before tapping the screen and turning it toward Daniel.
"Here," he said, offering his number.
Daniel blinked, then let out a small, almost relieved chuckle before taking out his own phone and saving it.
"When are you leaving?" George finally asked, his voice quieter than before.
Daniel pocketed his phone and sighed again, glancing at his watch.
"I'm already packed. This is my last stop before I go."
Something in George’s chest tightened.
Daniel gave him a lopsided smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Hope I can still message you… especially when I need advice."
George didn’t reply immediately. He just nodded, swallowing down the unexpected lump in his throat.
"Yeah," he murmured, looking away for a moment. "You can."
As Daniel turned to leave, his silhouette growing smaller with every step, George realized something.
For all the battles they had fought—silent or otherwise—he had never imagined this day would come.
And yet, it did.
A part of the story had ended.
As Daniel’s figure grew smaller in the distance, swallowed by the sea of students moving through the campus, George stood frozen for a moment. A strange, unfamiliar heaviness settled in his chest—regret? Relief? Something in between?
His fingers hovered over his phone screen before finally typing out a message. He hesitated, staring at the blinking cursor, then pressed send.
"Take care.
Life isn’t just about winning. If you leave too many people behind, one day, you’ll find yourself walking a road where no one waits for you at the end. But if you offer a hand when others are struggling, you’ll never have to walk alone."
He watched the screen, waiting. Seconds stretched into what felt like minutes, but there was no immediate reply.
Then, just before Daniel disappeared completely from view, George saw it—a slight pause in his step, the way his shoulders tensed ever so slightly. And though he never turned around, his hand raised just enough for a small, fleeting wave before he continued walking forward.
George exhaled, tucking his phone back into his pocket.
Maybe Daniel wouldn’t respond. Maybe this was the last time they would ever cross paths.
But deep down, he had a feeling that message would stay with him.
As George's gaze drifted back to the bouquet of flowers beside him, he couldn't shake the lingering weight of the moment. The message he had sent to Daniel still echoed in his mind, and the subtle wave Daniel had given before disappearing had stirred something deep inside him. An end? A new beginning? He wasn’t sure.
Just then, a faint rustle caught his attention. He turned slightly and noticed Eliana standing a short distance away. She wasn’t hiding, but she also wasn’t making her presence fully known.
She had heard.
She had caught the last part of his conversation with Daniel—the message, the farewell, the unexpected declaration of friendship.
Her expression was unreadable, but George could tell she already knew. She had known even before she heard it from him.
Daniel had been in the office earlier, submitting his transfer papers. Eliana had overheard his request while she was there, waiting to submit some documents for their teacher. She hadn’t said anything then, simply listening as the realization settled in.
And now, here she was, witnessing the final moment between them.
As Daniel passed by her on his way out, she lifted a hand and waved—a small, hesitant gesture of farewell.
Daniel, normally so composed, looked almost awkward. He gave a sluggish wave in return, his usual confidence subdued. "Hey," he muttered, his voice distant, his eyes already somewhere else. Then, without waiting, he turned and walked away.
Eliana's gaze followed him for a moment before shifting to George.
She had seen it all—the tension, the unexpected softness, the way two supposed rivals had found common ground in a single, fleeting exchange.
George met her eyes, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, as if the weight of it all had lifted, Eliana took a step closer.
"You really became friends," she murmured, more to herself than to him.
George let out a small, breathy laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah... I guess we did."