"Kieng."

 

"Kiengdao." The low voice over my ear oddly soothes my heart. I slowly open my eyes to the big guy beside me.

 

"Ket..."

 

"Hmm?"

 

Is it Ket? I touch Ket's face, stroking it softly, afraid he'll break. I receive the usual warm smile. Ket tilts his head, leaning against my palm like a little kid.

 

"Was it a nightmare?"

 

A nightmare...

 

"I dreamed you died."

 

Tears fall from my eyes as I sob uncontrollably. Ket hugs me in consolation, cracking a soft laugh, rocking me to stop the crying. He says nothing, his embrace the only indication of his existence. He's still here with me.

 

"Don't leave."

 

I speak in a muffled voice, digging my nails into his huge white shirt, clutching it to feel the flesh under the fabric. His broad back enfolds me. His perfume flutters my heart every time I smell it.

 

"Um." A short reply.

 

"Put stars on the headboard to prevent nightmares."

 

"Does it help?"

 

The man before me pulls away and fixes his beautiful, long eyes on me. No more fierceness. Only gentleness is reflected in those eyes.

 

"Stars heal all."

 

Ket interlaces his fingers with mine, showing the size difference between our hands. I look at the large hand holding mine, and my fingers are clasped with his.

"Kieng."

 

“Um."

 

"The stars are beautiful today."

 

I gaze up at the starry sky, taking in the sight. The cool breeze blowing through my face makes me feel like falling asleep again. I inch closer to the other guy and rest my head on his thigh.

 

"Sleepy?"

 

"Um."

 

"Take a nap. I'll watch you right here."

 

I slowly close my eyes, not forgetting to tighten my grip around Ket's hand so he won't disappear.

 

"Ket."

 

"Hmm?"

 

"I love you."

 

"Yeah."

 

Drifting off, I feel his lips on my forehead, so soft as if unreal.

 

"Goodnight, good boy."

 

Knock, knock.

 

"Kieng, it's past six!"

 

Ning shouts, knocking on the door. My eyes flutter open, and I look around. The rooftop has turned into a clean, white room. The hand holding mine has become air.

The curtain by the balcony door blows in the soft morning wind. I watch it quietly, wondering if I forgot to close the door last night. The weather today is cool and refreshing. The faint sunlight seeps through the curtain, cascading on the calendar on the nightstand. This date is circled in red with a drawn star. I switch my gaze to the picture of the sea hanging on the wall. The peaceful sea is vivid in my mind. Just now...it was a dream.

 

I get out of bed, pull out the drawer, and take out a sheet of star stickers, one of Ket's collections. I peel one off, paste it on the headboard, then trace it with my fingers and smile. Put a star on the headboard when you have a nightmare, huh? What childish logic.

 

"Kieng!" Ning keeps knocking on the door. I shout back in response.

 

"Heard you!"

 

"I've made breakfast. Come down to eat."

 

I divert my gaze from the star on the headboard and dash into the bathroom to shower and dress up to work early. Once showered, I check myself in the mirror, staring at the reflection of the man who has never changed, even after a decade. My hair has grown a bit longer. I just cut it, though.

 

I flick my eyes to the photo sticker on the right side of the mirror, the one I took with the other guy. Our smile back then came from hearts full of joy.

 

"My hair got longer," I mumble to the smiling boy in the photo.

 

"Should I try this hairstyle?"

 

"Do you like it?"

 

"I'll show you after I get a haircut."

 

I pat my face a few times to pull myself together, open the closet, and select a short-sleeved white shirt and black trousers. I put on a dark brown necktie, adjusting it around my collar, and go still when I notice something has disappeared from the shelf in the closet. I kneel in front of the shelf and remove the neatly folded pile of clothes to find that thing. I begin to get more flustered when I can't find it in its place.

Did I wash it?

 

The white basket in front of the bathroom is empty. I remember putting my clean laundry away in the closet yesterday. Where is it, then? Anxious, I turn my head back and forth before spotting the white tee on the floor next to my bed. What a relief. I thought I'd lost it. I exhale a soft sigh and step toward it before slowly settling on the mattress and clutching that shirt in my grip

 

The man's old shirt, which he has had for ages, is all crumpled, even though I ironed, folded it, and put it in the closet yesterday. How did it get here? I pull the large shirt to my body, study the fabric longer than my hips, and smile. Ket was huge. The shirt that fits his broad back will become a dress on me. I bury my nose in it. The smell of perfume is fading away, so I grab Ket's regular perfume from my desk to spray on the shirt I've kept with great care. It smells the same now.

 

The clock strikes half past six. I still have time before having breakfast. I sink into my bed and curl up with Ket's shirt onmy chest. I put my nose to it and inhale the perfume's mild scent deeply to ease my longing. Since I need to wash it from time to time, I regularly spray Ket's perfume on it. I usually handwash it because I don't want to soak it in the fabric softener with other clothes. I'm afraid the smell will change if I spray perfume over the fabric softener scent.

 

It smells nice.

It feels like Ket is here.

 

The shirt's colour changes over time despite my careful care. I snuggle up in the shirt with my face, rubbing my cheeks in it for a while. Hugging this shirt relaxes my restless heart. Once at ease, I sit up. I caress the fabric, fold it nicely, and kiss it softly. This shirt is Ket's special gift to me. It helps me know and remember how Ket was. How big he was. How broad his back was. I slowly withdraw my lips from the shirt and place it on my bed before giving it a smile like always.

 

"I'll be back."

 

I shut the white door and run down from the second floor of a small home office. After I graduated, Ning opened a guesthouse in Chiang Rai. She bought two home offices. One was converted into a guesthouse, while the other was renovated into our house. My sister has been single to this day without considering dating or having a baby. I once asked if she was lonely, to which she replied, 'I have you. Why would I be lonely?'

 

Her words implied that she was still worried I hadn't been in a relationship in the past 10 years. And so, she decided to be by my side as a source of support.

 

"I made porridge today with an omelette and stir-fried morning glory. Coffee?"

 

I nod, collect two bowls, scoop porridge into them, and set them on the table. After sitting on a wooden chair, I slide one bowl toward me and push the other to the opposite side, leaving the empty chair.

 

"Are you going to finish two bowls? I've eaten."

 

Ning, busy preparing breakfast for her guests, rests her hand on my head. I nod and look at the bowl of porridge left on the other side.

 

"It's the anniversary."

 

My sister goes silent and turns to the calendar on the wall, where this date is circled in red. She presses her pink lips on my hair without another word. I take a bite of the yellow omelette with enjoyment. Ning sets a whale cup of coffee on my left. The smell of the aromatic coffee is oddly familiar.

 

"Why are you in such a good mood today?"

 

"Ket came to me last night."

 

That marks the end of our conversation. I know Ning has no desire to express her opinion. It's been ten years, yet I still haven't moved on. On every anniversary, I always prepare a portion of food for the other guy to enjoy. I stargaze every night, even when the sky is completely dark. I delightedly greet the huge shirt every morning and evening as if someone were waiting for me at home. That's why Ning can't leave me by myself. I'm totally fine. I just want Ket to be with me like before.

“I'm off."

After finishing the meal, I get my bicycle and take off with Ning shouting after.

"Ride safe!"

 

The breeze in the suburb of Chiang Rai drifts through my ears. I've lived here for five years now. The morning air recharges my lungs. The scenery laid before me is stunning as ever.

 

I've been away from the sea for some time. Despite my undying love for it, decided to move up north to be closer to the stars. As expected, there has never been a lonely day since moving to Chiang Rai. The stars are more vivid than in Bang Saen. I've realised why Ket wanted to study in Chiang Mai.

 

The stars at night here are breathtaking. The morning sky today is painted in a light pinkish-orange over the eastern horizon. I hear the music from food trucks. When I nearly reach my workplace, the sound is replaced with kids laughing from the small soccer field. I ride past the light green fence and the cages of parrots squawking in the morning before stopping in front of an orange building and locking my bicycle like always.

 

"Hi, M. Kieng." The morning greeting brings a smile to my face.

 

"Hi, Miss Phueng."

 

I've become an art teacher as I wished. The dream I told 'Khobket.' The promise to study hard and be an art teacher. I know Ket is watching me somewhere and probably feels happy that I've achieved my goal. I work at a small school in the countryside, the suburb of Chiang Rai. The area is surrounded by multiple mountains, but it still provides convenient commuting. The school has fewer than 200 students and fewer than 10 teachers.

 

Despite never having thought of becoming a teacher, it's been 5 years since I started this career. It's my passion, and I'm happy to do it. When I talk to the little kids, it feels like I become one again.

 

"Mr Kieng, Mr Kieng."

 

As we walk to the classroom, a girl seizes my shirt with her tiny hand. Mali shakes my arm when I stop walking. The third grader locks her concerned eyes on me.

 

"Yes, Mali?"

 

"Baipor picked on Phukao again."

 

Again? Sighing, I lead Mali to the third-grade classroom hand in hand and stick my head inside. The naughty boy is pushing the small, fair-skinned boy against the wall.

 

"Baipor, don't do that to Phukao!" A group of kids shouts chaotically. Mali darts toward her little friend and pouts at Baipor, the naughty boy.

 

"If you don't stop. Mr Kieng will scold you."

 

"You think I'm scared? Phukao messed with me first."

 

"What did he do to you?"

 

"His dad is rich. I don't understand why he goes here. It's annoying!"

 

"Baipor!" I yell at the troublemaker and tug his collar, pulling away from the sobbing little kid. I kneel in front of the wicked boy, who purses his lips in annoyance.

 

"You have no right to insult others like that."

 

"My mom told me this school is for poor people. Rich kids should go to a school in the city."

 

I put my face in my palm. These adults constantly drill this myth into innocent children's heads.

 

"Take that back."

 

Baipor presses his tiny lips together, even pursing them at me.

 

"Apologise to Phukao."

 

"No."

 

"Baipor, listen to me. It doesn't matter whose parents are richer. You're in the same school, so you're friends. You must love each other. It's Phukao's right to study here. It might be necessary for him."

 

"But..."

 

"Do you know Phukao wants to be your friend?"

 

The naughty boy is taken aback. He lifts his dipping chin and looks at the boy sniffling in front of him.

 

"Phukao never thinks you're poor. He thinks..."

 

"I think you're super cool," interrupts a tiny voice. I smile at the little boy approaching us. He grips my shirt over my shoulder.

 

"You were so cool when you helped me from the fifth-grade bullies. You're my hero."

The naughty boy blinks in disbelief at what he's just heard, then scratches his cheek to hide his shyness. I ruffle their hair and hug them with affection and worry.

 

"Be nice to each other." Kids' friendship is the purest and most precious in the world.

 

"Sorry," Baipor apologises to the boy with round cheeks in front of him. He responds with an adorable smile.

 

"Um!"

 

I gaze at the star sticker on my phone screen, forgetting it's time to go home. Hearing Miss Phueng chatting in front of the teacher's room, I start packing up. I reach my hand to close the window, but I'm stunned by the impressive view.

 

The cool breeze brushes my face. This familiar view was the reason I chose this school, not the others. The trumpet tree is full of pink flowers, reflecting the light of the setting sun in the west. This tone warms my heart. Is Ket watching this...? His favourite pink flowers have bloomed. Someone shakes my pants, snapping me back to reality. I turn to the fair-skinned boy with light brown eyes, exuding joy.

 

"Phukao."

 

"Mr Kieng, Phukao's father, would like to meet you. Phukao said he's waiting in the back garden."

 

"Oh, thank you." Miss Phueng offers me a friendly smile and leaves with her bag. I hold Phukao's hand. His bright, adorable smile is innocent, as expected from a kid.

 

"Your dad wants to meet me?" I ask the little boy as we descend the stairs from the second floor. Phukao is a reserved boy. Every time I see him, there's an image of someone overlapping. Ket was similar to this boy when he was young. Weak and fragile, but with hidden strength.

 

"Yes. Dad wanted to thank you for taking care of me all this time."

 

"Hmm? Really?"

 

"Yes. You're so kind and always protect me. You're my hero."

 

I can't help smiling. My lips seem to move on their own accord when I hear those words. It feels fulfilling. I squeeze his tiny hand a little more.

"Isn't it wasting his time? You told me your dad runs a hotel."

 

Someone like that must be busy, like my sister, who is busy serving her guests all day.

 

"No. He said he had to meet you no matter what."

 

"Okay. Let's go to him quickly."

 

Phukao hops excitedly and pulls me to the back garden. I love chilling out in the school's back garden during my free time, enjoying the cool breeze and watching the pink flowers come and go. The garden, with its green and brown parts, has changed into one filled with pink flowers. The bunches of flowers blow in the cool evening wind like angels dancing and singing joyously in my ears. Some fall onto the grass, painting the marvellous colour like a carpeted path. It's so captivating that I hold my breath. How long has it been since I visited the back garden? I've been looking at it from the window, so the view has never been this clear.

 

After a few steps inside, Phukao lets go of my hand and runs to his father, who hides behind the trumpet tree with the most beautiful blooms this year. I follow Phukao leisurely, thinking of what to say to his father. Come to think of it, what would Ket feel if he were still here? Would he be over the moon that my dream came true? And what would I say to him?

 

I did it.'

I'm an art teacher.'

'Are you happy?'

 

My thoughts gradually fade. I freeze in my place when I see the broad back of the man in front of me. My heart races. The broad back fits his body perfectly. The long legs and soft, dark brown hair. Phukao holds his father's hand tightly in his tiny palm, laughing cheerfully.

 

Under the trumpet tree in the evening, and the faint orange light from the setting sun.

A gust of wind blows past my face, making a flower fall onto his broad shoulder. The man shifts slightly so the flower drops to the ground. Right then, a faint blue aura appears around his body. Slowly and slowly. The beautiful colour that resembles the calm sea.

 

"Ket.."

 

My eyes widen in shock. The word slips out of my mouth despite myself.

From the back...so similar… The faint aura enveloping his body is the color l've missed like crazy, though it's slightly different. My eyes feel hot, and I can't hold my tears. They form in my eyes and trickle down my face, drop by drop. The tall man slowly turns around and gives me a smile as striking as that day.

 

"Mr Kieng."