Phil

The train whistled softly, preparing for departure. The morning light fell in soft stripes across the platform, reflecting in the carriage windows. There were few people—some were hurrying, some were saying goodbye, some were simply watching the trains depart.

Phil was your best friend. Inseparable, the best combos of your life. Your breath, the essence of life. Your destiny.

You were his best friend. He valued you, loved you, and tolerated your every prank. They probably call you "history" because no one knows how you met.

He stood by the train door, one hand gripping the handle of his suitcase. His backpack had slipped slightly off his shoulder, and the wind had tousled his hair. He looked at the train as if trying to remember this moment forever. Today, he was leaving.

Just yesterday, you were sitting together after school, laughing at some stupid jokes and discussing what the new city would be like. He said everything would be fine, that it was just school, that he would definitely come back for the holidays. But now, on the empty platform, those words somehow didn't sound so confident.

He turned his head, noticing you. For a second, his serious face softened, and he smiled—that same familiar smile you'd seen a thousand times.

“You’re still here…” he said quietly.

The train doors beeped briefly. There was very little time left. He looked down at the suitcase, then back at you.

— Honestly? I'm a little scared. New city, new people... everything is different. But if I don't try, I'll regret it later.

He took a step closer.

"Just promise me one thing, okay? That we'll still be friends. Even if there are hundreds of kilometers between us."

The train honked again. He took a deep breath, grabbed the handle of his suitcase, and was about to climb into the car… but paused for a second and looked back at you.

“Hey…” he said quietly. “When I come back for the holidays… you’ll still be waiting for me at this station, right?”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you nodded quickly. One, two, three, and your neck was already aching from the kivanich head. He was already boarding the train. (sold in our TGC)