Since Zhou Rui left, Lin Junxi hadn't really been there. Sure, he came to school once or twice a week, sat in the back, pretended to listen, nodded when teachers called his name. But his eyes didn't sparkle the way they used to when talking about cars or teasing Tianxin.
He didn't join games during lunch. He didn't even react when Jiasheng jokingly tossed chalk at his head.
Tianxin watched him from the front row, the boy who once laughed loudly during math class now staring blankly at the board like it was static. She hated it.
One afternoon, she cornered Jiasheng outside the school gate.
"We need to do something."
Jiasheng raised a brow. "Something like what? Force him to laugh at your bad Doraemon jokes?"
She pouted. "I'm serious! He's not… Junxi. He's just a shadow."
Jiasheng looked thoughtful for a moment, then gave a small nod. "Alright, what's the plan, Detective Duck?"
"Don't call me Duck!"
But the plan began.
—
The next day, Junxi came to school. Again, silent. Again, distant.
But his locker? Decorated with random car stickers.
A small Doraemon keychain hung on the handle — one that Tianxin definitely didn't steal from her cousin's collection.
Inside his desk, he found a handmade "VIP car parking ticket" with a sketch of a race car and the words:
"Good for 1 ride to happiness. Terms: Smile at least once."
Junxi blinked at the paper. "What the…?"
Jiasheng leaned casually on the desk. "You're welcome. Limited edition."
Tianxin stood nearby, pretending not to be involved but clearly peeking.
Junxi sighed. "You two are weird."
"But we're your weirdos," Tianxin said, smiling.
After school, they dragged him — forcefully — to the old neighborhood road where they all once raced on bicycles. The sun was soft, the breeze carried the scent of summer leaves, and Jiasheng had somehow borrowed a bike from a kid across the street.
"You drive," he said, shoving it toward Junxi.
"I'm not five."
"Doesn't matter. Prove you're not broken," Tianxin challenged.
For a moment, Junxi stood still.
Then—he smirked.
Just slightly.
He got on the bike and pedaled. Slowly. Then faster.
Tianxin clapped.
Jiasheng yelled, "Don't crash or I'm not paying hospital bills!"
Junxi turned once, grinned for real, and shouted back, "Still faster than you!"
That smile — even if brief — was worth every effort.
Tianxin watched him with a small ache in her chest. Maybe things weren't fixed. Maybe Zhou Rui still wasn't here. But that didn't mean they had to give up on the pieces left behind.
And tonight, one of those broken pieces smiled again.