Running through the empty and dark campus, his brown hair was ruffled in the wind. His breath was short and his lungs were screaming for air while his legs begged him to stop. But his heart and mind were stronger and had told him to keep on going.

The Main Department’s halls echoed his footsteps as his feet hit the white tiled floor in an uneven pattern. Tears were starting to form in his eyes and he refused to let them fall.

She didn’t leave him.

Yeah, she didn’t leave him.

She couldn’t have.

Even though his vision was blurry from the tears threatening to spill out, his eyes frantically looked around for a certain number. He was done. He knew it. He had never remembered the room number.

Blinking back his tears to get a clearer view of his surroundings, he pitifully stood in the hallway, looking around like a lost child without its mother. He began to pity himself, suddenly regretting how he never paid much attention to the things around him.

Picking his pace up, he tossed a look through every classroom door to see if he had finally found it. The aura of the classroom had a relaxing effect on him as his lips turned dry.

The classroom was empty. The classroom was dark and empty. Just like his heart was.

The moonlight streaming in from the clean and clear classroom window had a strange melancholy effect on him. The window that was left slightly ajar allowed a cold breeze to slip into the classroom and envelope him in the cold.

Refusing to admit defeat, he forced his numb legs to move towards the desk she had often sat on, waiting for him to come. Even if she knew he wasn’t going to come. She had always been waiting for him. It was never the other way around.

She could wait for him, once or twice. Maybe even a hundred times. But she couldn’t wait for him forever. She had her own life. Wasn’t it enough that she had helped him keep his useless pride? What use was his pride now?

Sitting on the chair she had often sat on, often looking out onto the campus to relax, he kicked a box. Breaking away from his thoughts, he picked up the plain black shoebox and placed it on the table, scooting in.

His hands trembled as he bit his lip, vaguely remembering that he had seen the box before. His hands slowly freed the shoebox of its cover and memories came rushing back.

Literally.

Everything in the box sent distinct memories back to him as his eyes travelled to each object in the box. His eyes stopped at a blue folded piece of paper. His heart stopped as he forced himself to reach for it and touched the smooth piece of paper.

Let’s play a game of hide-and-seek. I’m hiding something, but can you find it?

His lips twisted into a bitter smile, remembering the day she had asked to meet him here after class. How he found a lone piece of paper left on the very same desk. How foolish of him to not enjoy the moment. To not even take the time to appreciate the tiny surprises she’d given him.

His eyes automatically traveled to the wooden closet sitting in the back of the classroom, getting off the chair and slowly making his way towards the closet. The thing she was hiding, he had found it. He had found it in that very closet. His heart ached as his fingers lingered on the closet door, boring holes into the door from his gaze.

Finally gathering some courage and shaking himself free of past memories, he managed to open the closet door with a small creak. Opening the closet door wider, the moonlight fell onto an object in the closet, the light glistening off of the tiny object.

His knees felt like jelly as he fought himself to stay standing. His fingers wrapped itself around the tiny and cool glass bottle filled with transparent lilac scented liquid. As he grabbed a hold of the tiny glass bottle, his hand brushed against a box.

Refusing to let go of the bottle, he took the box and opened it without hesitation. He was sure he hadn’t seen this box before. In the box, two black and white scarves were seen. One was filled with holes and uneven stitching and the other had perfect, even stitches.

He dropped the tiny glass bottle, shattering it. The box with the scarves followed.

Enough.

He had enough.

And he crumbled to the floor, his heart shattering into millions of pieces.

Like the bottle of perfume.

All because of his stupid pride.

A/N: Wow, I actually wrote this chapter a year ago xD. Shows how long I've been working on this story, yet I've only written like- four chapters or so, so far. Enjoy~