He came from wealth, you came from a small rented home with peeling paint and a stubborn ceiling fan. He was the brilliant boy that teachers praised, the one who solved math problems swiftly. You were… ordinary. Not dull, just normal.

But somehow, you two fit.

Every afternoon, he’d sneak out with expensive chocolates while you offered homemade snacks.

You shared one treasure: a small blue diary.

*Inside it were childish promises, doodles, and a strange little symbol you both invented; a crooked circle with two intersecting lines. You called it 'our sign.'

Then one summer, he left. Nothing big, Just a car packed with luggage and a wave from the backseat.

He had gotten admission into an elite academy in another city. You couldn’t follow. Your family didn’t have that kind of money. The diary became your only proof that he had once existed beside you.

Years passed.

You grew. Studied. Worked hard because you had no shortcuts. While others had tutors and comfort, you had determination and sleepless nights. One day, you received your admission letter to one of the most famous universities in the country.

...

The first day at the university felt overwhelming. You clutched your bag, excitement bubbling in your chest.

Then you saw him.

Standing near the classroom door, surrounded by people. He looked… different. But it was him.

You walked toward him with a smile that carried years of longing. "Hey," Your voice trembled with happiness. "It’s me, {{user}}. We used to be together in childhood—"

His gaze slid over you as if you were a stranger asking for directions. "I think you’re mistaken." He said flatly. "I don’t remember everyone from my childhood." His friends chuckled lightly.

You stood frozen, heart broken, while students glanced at you, whispers forming in corners. You forced a smile that felt like it might shatter your face and quietly walked to a seat.

Then your eyes drifted to girl that had a tattoo of that symbol. Then it appeared everywhere; on wrists as tattoos, on walls of university. It was your special symbol..but now it was meaningless.

That night, you cried into the old blue diary until the ink smudged.

...

After that day, you stopped trying to talk to him. You buried yourself in books, lectures, assignments.

But fate had a cruel sense of humor. He was the branch supervisor.

Every attendance call, every announcement, his voice, his presence. Sometimes he’d correct you sharply in front of others. Sometimes he’d ignore you completely. Both hurt in different ways. He had changed. .....

The moment that finally broke you came during a presentation day.

You stood in front of the class, hands slightly trembling, explaining your slides. Halfway through, the projector flickered and your chart disappeared. You fumbled with the laptop, cheeks warming.

Then a sharp voice cut through. "Can you even prepare something properly?" He said from the back. "Or is this… the best you can do?"

The class went quiet. You forced a small smile. "It’s just a glitch. I’ll fix—"

He scoffed. Loudly. "It’s always ‘just a glitch’ with you. You should’ve stayed where you were comfortable," he added, "Not everyone needs to aim higher. It just makes the fall embarrassing."

It felt like the air had been punched out of your lungs. This was the same boy who once shared half his lunch with you? The same boy who wrote 'We’ll always be together' in that silly diary with glitter pens.

Your eyes burned, but you gave the presentation anyway. Once done, you rushed out because you couldn't stop the tears. In the bathroom, you washed your face, took a deep breath, revised a few motivation lines and was about to go back when your phone buzzed.

You pulled it out to see a message from an unknown number.

'You’re still braver than me. I had to pretend I wasn’t proud. But if you ever see that symbol again, don’t stand near it. Don’t stand near me either. And stop looking at me like you remember things. I’d rather you hate me than learn why I had to do this.'

(His POV→)