The Boy Who Wouldn’t Let Me Go

The rain started before sunset. By the time Nawin stepped through the gates of Chao Phraya University, Bangkok had disappeared behind a curtain of silver water. He tightened his grip around the handle of his suitcase and looked up at the unfamiliar buildings. New city. New university. New beginning. That was what he kept telling himself. He had spent the last few years trying not to think about Bangkok. His family had left the city when he was young, and whenever he asked why, his parents changed the subject. Now, at twenty-one, Nawin had finally returned. He didn't know why coming back felt strangely familiar. The smell of rain. The old trees lining the university walkway. The distant sound of traffic. Something about it made his chest tighten. He pushed the feeling away. "You're imagining things," he whispered. His phone buzzed. Unknown Number: You shouldn't have come back. Nawin stopped walking. He stared at the message. His first thought was that it was a prank. Then another message appeared. Unknown Number: Some places remember people. Nawin looked around. Hundreds of students were rushing across campus, hiding beneath umbrellas. Nobody appeared to be watching him. Nobody except— A young man standing beneath the roof of an old building. Black hair. Dark clothes. Completely still. He wasn't holding an umbrella. And he was staring directly at Nawin. Their eyes met. For a moment, everything around Nawin seemed to disappear. The stranger looked at him with an expression Nawin couldn't understand. Not curiosity. Not surprise. Something deeper. Something almost like recognition. Then the stranger turned and walked away. "Hey!" Nawin didn't know why he called out. The stranger didn't stop. Nawin followed. He crossed the courtyard and entered the old building just as the lights flickered. Empty hallway. No students. No footsteps. Nothing. "Where did he go?" Nawin looked down the corridor. A classroom door stood slightly open. He pushed it. Empty. Except for a small black envelope lying on the teacher's desk. His name was written across it. NAWIN. His heart began pounding. He opened it. Inside was a photograph. It showed two children standing beside a river. One was unmistakably Nawin. The other was the stranger from the hallway. Nawin stared at the photograph. His hands began to shake. He didn't remember taking it. He didn't remember the boy. But written on the back were five words: "You promised you'd remember me." The classroom door suddenly slammed shut behind him. Nawin spun around. The stranger was standing there. Up close, he looked even more familiar. "You shouldn't have opened that," he said quietly. Nawin held up the photograph. "Who are you?" The stranger didn't answer immediately. His eyes remained fixed on the photograph. Then he looked at Nawin. "Krit." "Nawin." "I know." Nawin frowned. "How do you know my name?" Krit stepped closer. "You've forgotten a lot." "Forgotten what?" Krit's expression changed. For the first time, Nawin saw something beneath his cold exterior. Pain. "You forgot me." Thunder shook the windows. Nawin stared at him. "I've never met you before." Krit's eyes remained on his. "That's what you believe." He walked past Nawin and opened the door. Before leaving, he stopped. "Go home, Nawin." "Why?" Krit looked over his shoulder. "Because the last time you stayed in Bangkok..." His voice dropped. "...someone disappeared." Then he walked away. Nawin remained alone in the classroom. Outside, the rain continued falling. His phone buzzed again. Another message from the unknown number. You were warned. Nawin slowly looked toward the window. Across the courtyard, Krit stood beneath the rain. Watching him. And somehow, Nawin knew this was only the beginning.