Chapter 1
Chapter 1 — The Boy by the Sea
The sea was the first thing Akin noticed.
Not the university.
Not the students dragging suitcases across campus.
Not the banners fluttering between buildings.
The sea.
Endless blue stretching beyond the edge of campus, sparkling beneath the morning sun.
Akin stood outside the gates for a moment, letting the ocean breeze hit his face.
A new semester.
A new year.
A new chance to convince himself he’d finally become responsible.
The thought lasted approximately three seconds.
Then someone rammed a suitcase into the back of his knee.
“Move.”
Akin stumbled forward.
“What kind of greeting is that?”
“No greeting.”
His best friend continued walking.
“You’re blocking the entrance.”
Three years of friendship and Tonn still treated him like an inconvenience.
“Good morning to you too."
Tonn adjusted the strap of his bag.
“You’ve been standing here staring at the ocean for five minutes.”
“Four minutes.”
“That’s somehow worse.”
Akin grinned.
The crowd around them surged forward.
Students moved in every direction.
Parents took pictures.
Freshmen looked terrified.
Seniors looked exhausted.
Orientation season.
Jane appeared carrying a coffee.
“You look suspiciously cheerful.”
“I am cheerful.”
“That’s concerning.”
“Why?”
“Nobody should be this happy before nine in the morning.”
Akin placed a hand over his heart.
“I wake up every day grateful to be alive.”
“You’re lying.”
“Correct.”
A fourth voice joined them.
“Guys.”
Mek appeared from nowhere.
As usual.
He was holding three iced coffees.
One pastry.
A brochure.
And somehow a beach ball.
Nobody asked.
“Look.”
He pointed dramatically across the courtyard.
“What am I looking at?”
Jane asked.
“I don’t know.”
“...”
“...”
“I forgot.”
Akin nearly walked away.
Their friendship group had formed in first year and somehow survived.
No one really understood how.
Tonn was practical.
Jane was terrifyingly observant.
Mek treated life like a reality show.
And Akin—
well.
Akin talked too much.
“Speaking of things I forgot,” Mek said suddenly.
“I heard Architecture got a transfer student.”
Jane sighed immediately.
“No.”
“What?”
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
“I know exactly what you were going to say.”
Mek gasped.
“You think I flirt with everyone.”
The entire group stared at him.
“Because you do.”
“I have range.”
“You flirt with baristas.”
“They’re people.”
“You flirt with delivery drivers.”
“They’re also people.”
“You flirted with a lifeguard last week.”
“He was beautiful.”
No one could argue with that.
The morning passed slowly.
Orientation speeches.
Department meetings.
Schedules.
Rules.
More rules.
Akin paid attention for approximately six minutes.
A personal best.
By lunchtime, he escaped.
The beach behind the university had always been his favorite place on campus.
Most students preferred the cafeteria.
Or the library.
Or air conditioning.
Akin preferred the ocean.
The wooden boardwalk stretched along the shoreline.
Palm trees swayed lazily in the wind.
The sound of waves mixed with distant voices from campus.
For the first time all day—
everything felt calm.
He walked without thinking.
Past the docks.
Past the volleyball courts.
Past the old pavilion overlooking the water.
Then he noticed someone.
A boy sat beneath the pavilion’s shade.
Alone.
A sketchbook rested on his knees.
A pencil moved steadily across the page.
He looked completely absorbed.
Like the rest of the world didn’t exist.
Akin would’ve kept walking.
Probably.
Then the wind picked up.
A loose page slipped from the sketchbook.
The paper sailed across the sand.
Straight toward him.
Akin caught it before it could disappear.
He glanced down.
A detailed architectural drawing filled the page.
Every line was precise.
Every shadow intentional.
The kind of drawing that took hours.
“Hey.”
The pencil stopped moving.
The boy looked up.
Dark eyes.
Dark hair.
A white shirt with rolled sleeves.
For one brief second—
something about him felt familiar.
Not because Akin knew him.
Because he looked like someone carrying a story.
Weird thought.
Akin held up the page.
“You dropped this.”
The boy stood and walked over.
Up close, he looked older than Akin first thought.
Not older in age.
Just...
tired.
He accepted the page.
“Thanks.”
That should’ve been the end of it.
It wasn’t.
Because Akin smiled.
“You drew this?”
A pause.
“Obviously.”
Akin blinked.
“...okay.”
The boy looked away first.
Akin laughed.
“You always answer questions like that?”
“Only the obvious ones.”
Interesting.
Rude.
But interesting.
Akin sat down on the wooden railing nearby.
Without being invited.
The boy noticed immediately.
His expression somehow became even less welcoming.
“What are you doing?”
“Sitting.”
“I can see that.”
“Good.”
“...”
“...”
The silence stretched.
Akin wasn’t bothered by silence.
Not exactly.
He just preferred conversations.
“So what’s your name?”
The boy closed his sketchbook.
“Why?”
“Because that’s usually how people introduce themselves.”
Another pause.
Then:
“Phupha.”
The name suited him.
Akin smiled.
“I’m Akin.”
“I didn’t ask.”
Akin laughed again.
This time, Phupha looked slightly annoyed by it.
Which only made it funnier.
The ocean breeze moved between them.
Somewhere behind them, students shouted on the volleyball court.
A boat horn echoed from the harbor.
Life continued.
Neither moved.
For some reason, Akin found himself watching the horizon.
And for some reason, Phupha stayed.
Neither knew it yet.
But years later—
when both of them tried to remember where everything began—
they would think it started here.
With the sea.
A sketchbook.
And a conversation that should have ended after one sentence.
END OF CHAPTER 1
