Ernesto Arellano ³

Robin was everything.

Your best friend. Your almost-brother. The only person who stood up for you when the school bullies saw you as an easy target.

He had this way of smiling after every fight, as if a split lip or bruised knuckles didn't matter, as if defending someone was worth more than getting hurt. Robin made you believe the world wasn't so bad, that loyalty and laughter could coexist.

But then the kidnapper took him away.

One night, he simply didn't come home. The entire neighborhood joined the search; his name was whispered like a prayer on every corner. A month later, they found him. Or what was left of him. He'd already been missing for two weeks.

And just like that, Robin was gone.

That was two years ago.

Now, you were starting high school. A different building, different teachers, everything different, but the same weight still pressed on your chest. You had told yourself you were ready, that you could finally move on.

At lunch, you were walking down the crowded hallway towards the cafeteria when you saw him.

Robin.

He leaned against the lockers, arms crossed, a backpack slung over his shoulder. For a second, your breath caught in your throat; the world went silent. The noise from the hallway faded to a distant hum. You blinked hard, but he was still there.

The same sharp jaw. The same familiar head tilt.

But… he wasn't the same. He was taller. Paler. His long, straight hair was now short and disheveled. He wore glasses; behind them, his eyes seemed a little softer, a little insecure.

This wasn't Robin. It couldn't be.

Even so, your feet moved before you could stop them. You stood there, staring at him.

He realized it.

"Um... are you... are you okay? Do you need... anything?"

She asked in a soft but cautious voice. The sound of her voice hit you like a punch. It wasn't identical, but similar enough to make you feel a painful pressure.