RELIEF WAS NOT HEALING

Late-morning heat rose off the asphalt path leading away from Highschool A, shimmering against the low rooftops of the school-town houses in the distance. Val kept his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, shoulders drawn in as he watched his sneakers hit the pavement. Behind him, the brisk, familiar rhythm of footsteps closed the distance.

Xian's shadow crossed his shoulder. She had clearly hunted him down on purpose.

Val slowed half a step so she didn't have to jog to keep up. When she spoke, the first thing out of her mouth was not a joke about homework or a question about Aura. She asked about Mina, her voice uncharacteristically gentle, like she already knew the topic was a raw nerve.

"Mm." Val kept his chin down. "Not much."

He fed her flat monosyllables, keeping his eyes fixed on the chain-link fence bordering the sports field. The wire mesh rattled faintly as a breeze swept across the empty track. Xian deserved a real answer, but he didn't have one in him today.

Xian didn't pry. She dropped into step beside him, adjusting her pace to his without filling the quiet with useless movements. They walked past the bleachers and out toward the perimeter gate. With every ten paces they took in silence, the urge to build a wall out of single words began to fade. The private catastrophe locked behind his teeth would never cross his tongue, but he didn't need to shut her out completely.

"Mina's..." Val exhaled sharply through his teeth. "Every time she gets a boyfriend, I turn into dead weight. She goes cold. Like I never mattered." He stared at the curb, kicking a loose pebble into the weeds. "Then the guy's gone, and she's all sweetness again, expecting me to pretend everything else in between didn't happen." The old, familiar sting flared hot. "I don't know if I can do that again."

He didn't speak John's name, but the past few weeks had been loud enough that Xian was very well aware. He could tell she was fitting the pieces together without him having to recite every cold shoulder in the hallway and every ignored message.

Xian didn't interrupt nor did she try to fix the problem. Xian simply walked beside him, steady and present, taking in what he said as if his frustration had every right to exist.

Val left the rest of his feelings buried. He didn't mention the confrontation by the carpark, and he kept his hands deep in his pockets so she wouldn't see the faint scabbing across his knuckles from the lunch fight. When the silence between them threatened to drag, he gave a small, tired shrug.

"School's been shit."

Xian didn't push him to elaborate. "Yeah," she said quietly, letting the rest stay unsaid.

The path split where the gravel lane turned toward the townhouse. Val paused at the corner, looking over at her.

"Thanks," he said. He meant it, even if the acknowledgment didn't magic away the ache.

He wasn't fixed, but having her walk the path with him made the weight slightly less solitary to carry. As they turned through the gate toward the front steps, the unresolved thought of Mina still hung in his stride. He wasn't ready to cut the line completely. Not yet.