Arrivederci || Dan Heng [✓ ]

⋆ ✦ ˚｡ Part twenty-two ˚｡⋆

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𓆩⟡𓆪
╰┈➤ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒔 stretched on like an eternity, each morning weighing heavier on Dan Heng's heart than the last.

He tried to lose himself in his poems, pouring his emotions onto paper as if the act itself could bridge the gap between his reality and the memories that held him captive.

The empty spaces in his poems mirrored the void he felt without your presence. The clear waters, once a sanctuary of tranquility, now echoed his inner turmoil. He stood on the shore, the waves crashing against the sand, as if they too carried his unspoken thoughts away.

March, could only watch him spiral, and her worry grew like a knot in her chest.

Yet even she was struggling. The girl had spent countless hours with you, sharing laughter and time together. Your sudden disappearance was a gaping hole in her life—and she couldn't shake off the unease that something was deeply wrong.

"Just where are you...?"

March found Dan Heng staring at a photograph she'd taken of the whole group—in particular he was looking at you. She hesitated for a moment before finally speaking up.

"Dan Heng, I can't stop thinking about her—It feels weird still...how come she never told us she was only enrolled for 30 days?"

The young man looked up, his gaze weary, yet for some reason still grateful for someone to share his burden—if only just a little.

"I know, March. It's been hard for me too. I guess she just wanted to enjoy her time here." She bit her lip. Of course it would take its toll on him, probably harder than the rest of them.

March took a step closer, her face painted with empathy.

"You two really got that close?"

He nodded, his voice tinged with a mixture of sadness and longing.

"Yeah, I guess we did."

"I wish we knew what happened to her," March murmured, her gaze distant as if lost in thought. "It's like she just vanished without a trace."

Dan Heng's heart tightened at the mention of this. He knew exactly what had happened to her, but the weight of that truth was too heavy to share. He took a deep breath, his voice shaky.

"She just—her time was up, March. She had to go back...home."

The young girl studied him, her eyes narrowing as if searching for something more.

"Dan Heng, I know you're holding something back. You're not yourself. Are you okay?"

He looked away, unable to meet her gaze.