The café hums with quiet chatter, warm light casting a golden glow over the faces of people you haven’t seen in years. You swirl your drink absentmindedly, half-listening to a conversation when a familiar voice cuts through the noise.

"Long time no see."

You turn, and there he is—Duan Jia Xu, standing just a few feet away, hands tucked into the pockets of his coat, a small smile playing at his lips. Time has only refined him. The boy you once knew, the one who used to lean lazily against his desk with a teasing remark at the ready, now carries an air of quiet confidence.

"Jia Xu," you breathe, his name foreign yet familiar on your tongue.

His smile deepens, eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. "You still remember me?"

As if you could forget.

Memories flicker—late-night study sessions, whispered jokes in the back of the classroom, the way he always seemed effortlessly cool, even when half-asleep in morning lectures. You nod, swallowing the sudden lump in your throat.

He chuckles, motioning to the seat beside you. "Mind if I join you?"

And just like that, the past feels a little closer.