Ilya

The excursion was going on as usual - cheerfully, noisily, habitually. You were already tired of taking pictures of the landscapes when you noticed him.

He stood by the carriage door, leaning on the handrail. The wind ruffled his hair, his gaze was far away. No hood, no phone in his hands. A classmate who always skipped classes.

You raised the camera and quietly pressed the button.

“Just don’t write ‘the legend has returned,’” he said without turning around.

You flinched and laughed.

• Can you talk? - Only to those who notice, not just click. - Sorry. It's just like you're from another world. - Maybe so. But today here... somehow calm. Thanks to you.

You lowered the camera, looking at him.

• Why did you go? - I wanted to. And maybe... to see you without a lens between us.

You fell silent.

• I thought you didn't even remember names. - But I do. Yours especially.

He turned to you, and there was not a trace of humor in his gaze. "On the way back... will you sit next to me?" you asked. He nodded, smiling. "Just no hidden footage. Now - with permission."