The crowd slowly dispersed after the finale, the last bursts of color still echoing in everyone's eyes. Laughter carried in the night air, mixed with the faint buzz of conversations that refused to end. Students shuffled past in groups, holding half-finished drinks, paper plates stained with sauce, and plastic bags filled with leftover snacks. Some still clutched props from the performances, waving them lazily as they walked. The once-lively stalls were now shutting down, their tarps being rolled up, their grills cooling into silence. Yet, the faint smell of grilled meat and sweet sugar clung stubbornly to the air, as if unwilling to let the night go.
Eli stretched his arms high above his head, his jaw cracking with a wide yawn. "I'm so tired…" he muttered, voice heavy with exhaustion.
"Same," one of his friends groaned beside him, dragging their feet dramatically. "I'm sleeping all Sunday. Don't wake me up for anything."
Their group laughed, the kind of easy laughter that comes when you've spent the whole day together. They began walking out of the campus side by side, voices overlapping as they chattered about the funniest bloopers, the most delicious food stall, and their favorite parts of the festival. The night felt alive, buzzing with shared memories.
But as the crowd thinned, something subtle shifted. Eli found himself a step or two behind the others, and when he glanced to the side, he realized Kai was there too. It wasn't intentional—neither of them had planned it—but somehow the gap between them and their friends stretched, leaving the two of them in a pocket of quieter space.
The lanterns lining the path glowed in soft orange light, casting warm circles onto the gravel road. Their footsteps echoed in the stillness, crunching softly in rhythm. For a while, neither of them spoke, but the silence didn't feel awkward. It was almost… expectant.
"I don't know if I already said it, but… you were great today," Kai said suddenly, his voice steady but gentler than usual.
Eli blinked, turning his head in surprise. "…Huh? Are you being sarcastic? 'Cause I know I messed up a few times."
Kai shook his head slowly. "You didn't. You carried the play."
The words hit harder than Eli expected. His ears grew hot, and he quickly waved his hands, flustered. "N-no way. Everyone carried it together. I just… I just did my part. Don't say things like that."
Kai didn't push the point. He simply kept walking, his calm expression unreadable, as though silence itself was an answer. Somehow, that quietness spoke louder than words.
Eli's chest felt tight, restless and comforted all at once, like the air between them was charged with something he couldn't name. He wanted to say more, but his thoughts tangled, spilling into a jumble of half-formed words. Finally, he shoved his hands into his pockets and muttered, "Thanks… for earlier. Y'know, for covering for me on stage."
Kai's eyes flicked toward him briefly. "Always."
Just one word. But it landed in Eli's chest with a weight he didn't know how to carry.
Before he could reply, their friends up ahead shouted for them to hurry. The fragile moment cracked apart, and Eli jogged forward to catch up, forcing his expression into something neutral, pretending his heart wasn't still racing.
That night, when Eli lay in bed, the ceiling above him seemed to hold traces of the day. He replayed the festival in his head—the bursts of fireworks, the applause from the audience, the dizzying thrill of performing. He remembered the taste of sweet drinks, the sound of his friends laughing until their sides hurt, the glow of lanterns lining the paths like tiny stars.
But none of those memories stayed with him as strongly as Kai's voice.
Always.
The word repeated itself like a quiet echo, steady and certain, as if it had settled deep inside him.
Eli turned on his side, pulling his blanket up to his chin, trying to shake the warmth that stubbornly clung to him. "…No. Don't overthink this," he whispered to himself, though the darkness offered no answer. "It's just… just friendship."
He squeezed his eyes shut, determined to will his body into sleep. But the warmth in his chest refused to fade, and against his best efforts, he found himself smiling in the dark.