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Zhan Zhengxi has always hated social gatherings, but this is well and truly the absolute worst.
His mother holds the sides of his face and brings him down to kiss his forehead as he slumps over, Jian’s bag weighing heavily on his shoulder.
Her thumb strokes his cheekbone and she gives a sad smile. “Do your best today, okay? I’ll be there to see you, and when your father gets off work we’ll all spend some time together.” She says, her voice gentle, and Zhengxi knows why she holds that delicacy in her tone.
He’s been like a cracking piece of glass since that day.
He takes her wrist carefully and nods, standing up straight again. “Mhm. I’ll see you later.”
She watches him leave and sighs.
Xiao Hui waits at the gate for him and puts her hand up in greeting when she spots him approaching. Even she already has that pitiful look.
“Morning Zhengxi, you okay?”
“Mh. You?”
They begin walking to their class.
“I’m okay, just seems like the weather isn’t going to be very good today… Did you bring your umbrella?”
“Yeah.” He says bluntly, and they eventually reach their room for preparation for the ceremony.
They’re all given their robes and hats, all in black. They’re also given cards for if they have any thanks they want to say. It starts to spit outside.
Although it’s such an important day, it feels as though it goes in a blur. Not necessarily fast, not really slow, but something separate from time itself that doesn’t make sense.
Zhengxi suddenly finds himself nearing the line to go on stage. Mo and Buzzcut are behind him chattering, and the rain starts to pour heavier.
It pours heavier and heavier, and everyone brings up their umbrellas.
By the time Zhengxi gets to the podium to get handed his certificates, it’s tipping. He’s prompted to the stand if he has anything to say, and he looks over the crowd of parents and siblings.
He spots his sister smiling, and his mother holding her shoulder with a grin on her face.
He looks around for a second.
It feels like a funeral. It almost feels like some sort of confirmation.
The sky is grey, everyone’s dressed dark and casual, with dark umbrellas up, and he’s on a stage, and Jian’s not there. His eyes can’t spot that blonde head of hair anywhere.
He nods to the announcer in dismissal, and walks down the opposing steps before he can think more about the sudden pull inside his lungs.
He walks away from the crowd to the side of the building and covers his face with his forearm, his feelings that have been building up reaching their peak.
Honestly, he hasn’t cried much. Some delusional part in his yearning heart repeated “he’ll be back”, for so long, until right now.
His breath quickens, and he feels the tears prick his eyes.
He thinks of his photo albums, and how a large section is missing him, and now his graduation day. How had high school passed already? Why didn’t time wait?
Useless memories and thoughts and questions like those swarmed his mind, and he doesn’t register any company until he’s getting pulled forward into a hug.
His eyes widen and his mothers palm strokes his hair.
He’s always been emotionally invulnerable, never showing his heart on his sleeve, but his exterior, and his interior, crack. He holds her back and puts his face into her neck, like a child even though today is meant to be a day of maturity to the next stage.
His mother holds him tighter when his tears soak her neck, and ZiXi hugs them both by the waist.
“I know, I know.” The lady comforts, having never heard sobs come from her son's mouth since he was a baby; and hardly even then.
The rain pours like Zhengxi’s eyes, until he can’t anymore.
His hold becomes looser. Even now, he feels like maybe after he stops crying, he’ll look up and find Jian there, so he won’t have to stop crying as if the sadness suddenly stops when he isn’t. He wishes he could be an endless fountain, since there’s an unmistakable feeling of guilt upon not constantly crying and being sad.
Crying feels like a subconscious reassurance that a person's presence is missed, even if they aren’t seeing it happen, and if you don’t cry they’ll somehow think their absence doesn’t affect anyone, but life goes on.
He looks ahead from his mothers shoulder, and he doesn’t know what to do when there’s nothing he can do to make this better.
He pulls away gently, chest still heaving, and his mom immediately runs her thumbs under his eyes to collect the wetness.
“When he comes back, and when he graduates, you can take your pictures together then.” She comforts. “Jian Yi would hate to see you crying.”
Zhan Xixi, I like it better when you smile.
The words from the past ring his ears, and he gulps, ducking his head down to wipe the rest of his face more harshly.
“What if…” He stumbles his words, “What if he doesn’t come back? What if he’s…”
The lady grins, cupping his face again, “That boy loves you so much, he’ll come back to you, I’m sure.”
ZiXi nods, butting in, “That’s true, he’ll definitely come back to you. Even if he has to defy all the other possibilities.”
Zhengxi huffs an amused sound at his sister being positive about Jian.
He rubs his wrist under his eyes again, “I fucked up the ceremony, sorry…” He mumbles.
“Don’t apologise, you made it through high school, what’s one day… Let’s go have a lovely meal okay?” His mother brightens the mood, and ZiXi clings to his arm as they start to leave, but that emptiness only stays, and even spreads.
He wonders how today would’ve gone if Jian were there. He planned to confess during high school after sorting himself out…
He closes his eyes on the thought of them kissing and hugging, knowing it’ll never be, and knowing he’ll never get these years back, and Jian could never know how reciprocated his feelings are… How much Zhengxi wishes he could hold him.
He sighs and shakes his head, stuffing his face with noodles, trying to ignore the hallucinated ghost of Jian hovering around him for the rest of the day.