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It’s always a wonder why people are bound to cross each other’s path. Is it because fate is unavoidable? Or is there a reason hidden beneath the ordinary moments of life?
If people are destined to cross paths, then why do some end up in the harshness of fate—where once-crossed paths are forced into parallel lines, close but never touching again?
Is there a way to change destiny? Or are we merely imprisoned within the path it has laid out for us?
That day was PE class, the most loved subject of every student except Han. He disliked leaving the classroom just to exercise or play sports whenever the teacher stepped out.
The class was brimming with energy, especially the girls. How could they not be? Their seniors were playing on the PE grounds, and one of those seniors was on the basketball court. The air seemed to hum with excitement, every cheer echoing like a heartbeat.
Han, however, stood apart—his world running parallel to theirs, his steps bound to a path that never quite converged with the rest.
“Hey, Han! Let’s go?” A basketball was suddenly thrust into Han’s view. He stared at it for a moment before lifting his gaze to his friend—Chihen.
“Prof Kim said we need three backups for the basket.” Chihen raised three fingers with a grin. “C’mon, you need to sweat, dude.”
“Is there something in it for me?” Han muttered.
Before he could complain further, Chihen tugged him out of his desk.
The PE grounds were alive. Male students played basketball under the blazing sun, while two professors stood tall, shoulders squared, trying to look cool in front of their students.
Professor Kim spotted Han and Chihen emerging from the building. A smile crept across his face as he strode toward them. “Finally! I’ll win!”
He patted Han’s shoulder, and in that instant, Han realized the reason Chihen had dragged him out of his comfortable seat: their professor was caught in a bet with another teacher. It was a battle between the senior students and Han’s year level.
Han sighed heavily, wishing he could retreat back inside. The heat pressed down on him like a weight, and the shrill screams of the students made the atmosphere feel more like a championship game than a casual contest.
“Steven!! Ahhhh!!!”
“Go, Steven!!!”
“I love you, Steven!!!”
Han’s frown deepened. His irritation wasn’t just from the noise—it was from being dragged into this petty bet by his teacher, forced to stand under the blazing sun while the girls shrieked endlessly. And so, when his eyes landed on Steven casually practicing free throws, the annoyance naturally found its target.
Steven, oblivious to Han’s mood, kept shooting with an easy rhythm. Then, Professor Kim’s rival strode over and leaned in to whisper something to Steven.
Before Han could avert his gaze, Steven turned toward him. A smile spread across his face, and he lifted his hand in a wave.
For a moment, Han felt the heat ease—not from the sun relenting, but from the simple, disarming warmth of Steven’s gesture.
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Steven was not a foreign name to Han’s ears, yet he couldn’t fathom why it kept echoing in his mind. Especially that smile—the one Steven gave him just before they lost the game—lingered far longer than it should have.
Professor Kim was devastated by the defeat. He even blamed the other professor, insisting that teaching senior students had already tilted the fairness of the match.
Days passed, and Han found himself stealing moments to watch Steven whenever he could—during breaks, or when a professor sent Steven to announce something in every classroom. All Han could do was surrender to his hidden feelings. Just hearing a story about Steven, even by chance, was enough to complete his day.
“Hey, Han, do you want to come to our house?” Chihen asked one afternoon as they ate lunch.
“For what?” Han replied.
“My older brother is graduating. Obviously, we’re going to celebrate at home.”
Han raised an eyebrow. “Eh? Why am I invited?” His curiosity was genuine.
Chihen slapped his hand lightly. “Yo, that’s my shanghai!*.” (Shanghai or Lumpiang Shanghai, a Filipino dish. Deep-fried appetizer or snack)
Han frowned and took a sip of his juice instead.
“Well, it’s fine if you don’t come,” Chihen continued. “It’s just that my ma and older brother wanted us to invite close friends for the party.”
Graduation was in the air. Even their seniors were preparing for it, and Han barely saw Steven anymore. The busyness of the season only made Han realize how much he missed those fleeting moments of seeing him.
A sigh escaped Han’s lips; he could already see his bitter ending. He had chosen not to engage with Steven, and now he could only reap what he had sown.
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“A graduation party is about to happen! Come and register your name with the student council!”
The announcement rang through the canteen, delivered by the Senior Representative. Beside him stood Steven.
A party that held no real benefit for Han—yet the Representative’s playful words, “All seniors will be present, and they are obligated to treat our favorite younger babies, yiiiieeee~”—made the farewell sound irresistible.
The party was set for Friday, graduation day. Third-year students were required to attend, even though Han hated the idea of waking up early on the first day of summer break. Still, he had no choice.
Really, he really had no choice.
But as the ceremony drew to a close, there was still no sign of his favorite senior. Han had deliberately chosen an elevated seat, positioning himself near Steven’s class, hoping to catch even a glimpse.
Yet Steven never appeared.
From behind, Han overheard whispers: Steven hadn’t been able to attend because his younger brother had been taken to the hospital. The incident wasn’t serious, so perhaps Steven might still make it to the farewell party.
Irritation crept into Han’s thoughts. He rose from his seat, left the venue, and wandered into their classroom—the same homeroom Steven and his classmates used.
Han sat down at Steven’s desk, the very place he had so often watched Steven from afar. Now, with the room empty, it felt like a quiet echo of all those moments he had surrendered to his hidden feelings.
And from the very same room, Han will keep his feelings trapped inside this room.