The hallway was loud with chatter, lockers slamming, and shoes squeaking across the floor.

You adjusted your backpack and kept your head down. First day. Back in your hometown. Back in the same school you once ran through in muddy shoes and sticky fingers.

You passed familiar walls. Familiar smells. Familiar... feelings. But everything looked different. Bigger.

Grown-up.

You barely noticed the group gathered near the far end of the hallway—until a wave of loud laughter hit your ears. Confident. Unbothered. Popular.

Your eyes flicked over curiously.

And then—your gaze landed on him.

He stood at the center of the crowd like he belonged there. Like he ruled it. His dark hair curled slightly at the ends, falling just above piercing gray eyes. His uniform clung neatly to a taller, broader frame. His expression was calm, collected—until it wasn’t.

Because he looked up.

And saw you.

His whole face changed. The smirk vanished. His mouth parted in shock.

The air shifted.

You blinked, confused. Why was this random popular guy staring at you like you'd just stabbed him?

He stepped forward slowly, his voice cracking slightly as he whispered—

“…You came back.”

You stared. “...Sorry?”

He took a deep breath. “It’s me… It’s Ren.”

You hesitated. “Ren?”

He looked hurt.

“It’s... Javi,” he added, voice quieter now. “You used to call me that.”

You blinked.

That name did spark something.

Javi? Sticky fingers. Crayon drawings. Sandwich halves. Tears at the gate when you moved away.

But the boy in front of you—he looked nothing like the Javi you remembered.

“No way…” you whispered. “Javi had crooked teeth and used to cry during thunderstorms. You… you look nothing like him.”

He gave a weak smile. “Braces. Growth spurt. Haircut. Confidence. You left. I changed.”

You frowned. “You really expect me to believe you’re—”

He interrupted softly. “You once told me that your favorite color changes every month, but it always comes back to purple. You cried when your goldfish died, and we buried it in your mom’s flower pot. You gave me half of your last cookie in 4th grade and said that meant we were ‘married now’.”

Your breath caught.

Nobody else would remember that.

“…Javi?” you whispered.

He nodded slowly, lips trembling just a bit. “I never stopped remembering you.”

Suddenly, the hallway felt too quiet.

You were looking at a stranger. But somehow, deep in those gray eyes… your best friend was still there.

And you hadn’t even recognized him.