WHYARU, Chapter 22:
“Still not done translating?”
“Not yet.”
“I think you should skip the extra work today, Tor. Finish this and go rest at the dorm. You look like you haven’t slept at all.”
“I’m fine, Day,” Tutor looked up, answering Day’s concerned tone.
“You’re so damn stubborn. You never listen.”
“…”
“Scold you, and you go quiet. Did I mess up or what by taking on extra translation work for you? I thought it’d help cut down on your evening side jobs, but you’re doing everything—side jobs, translations, journals. Aren’t you overdoing it, Tor?” Day grumbled, clearly frustrated. He was the one who recommended Tutor to a senior in the science faculty looking for someone to translate journals.
“It’s good to take on more. Keeps me busy. I even took on another journal from your friend’s contact.”
“What?!”
“I said I took on another journal. Phii Tam will bring the documents later.”
“He brought it himself?”
“Yeah, my senior printed it out for us.”
“I swear, that Tum guy is getting weirder by the day,” Day muttered, more to himself than to anyone else.
“What’d you say, Day?”
“Nothing, I’m just annoyed at you.”
“Huh? Annoyed why? I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Wrong! Everything you do is wrong. Like those extra documents you took from Tum—that’s wrong. You know the
stuff he gave you to translate isn’t easy, right? All that scientific jargon is crazy hard. Why’d you take on more work? What if you can’t finish it in time?”
“I’ll manage.”
“If you can’t, cut back on the side jobs.”
“No way. One of Phii Kae’s staff quit, so I have to help out at both his place and Sis Fai’s.”
“God, I’m so done with goody-two-shoes like you. When are you gonna stop being so stubborn?”
“Sorry.” Tutor’s voice came with a guilty expression, leaving his friend momentarily speechless.
“Fine, whatever. Since you already promised them, with the side jobs and the translations, if anything’s too much, just tell us. We’ll help.”
“Thanks, Day.”
“So, you just gonna keep sitting here?”
“Yeah, I’ll head out for my side job around 5:30. Honestly, Day, you can go home if you want. You don’t have to wait for me. There’s no more class.”
“Nah, I’ll pick up Hwa from her faculty and swing by here after.”
“Oh?”
“Wanna come with? We can grab some food. Stretch your legs a bit instead of moping around here.” Day tried to coax his friend to take a break, seeing the stressed and exhausted look on his face. It was hard not to feel sorry for him.
Tutor worked evening shifts every day, coming back late every night, and now he was taking on extra translation jobs for journals without a thought for his own health. Sometimes, Day wanted to shake him hard and yell, Enough already, Tor! It’s been weeks! When are you going to stop doing this to yourself?!
But in the end, Day couldn’t do it. He knew Tutor was only keeping himself busy to avoid having free time—to avoid thinking about someone who had hurt him deeply.
Believe it or not, Day still remembered that day vividly. The day he and Hwahwa went to find Tutor and saw him crying his heart out, like his world had collapsed. The pain and torment were as if the whole world had come crashing down in front of him. His repeated apologies, mumbled over and over, couldn’t compare to the endless stream of tears flowing down his face.
Day had never seen Tutor cry that hard before, not even once. Neither had Hwahwa. Even when his family went bankrupt or when he couldn’t find a job, Tutor hadn’t been like this.
In the end, all he and Hwahwa could do was comfort him.
Comfort him in the only ways they knew how.
But one strange thing was that after that day—the day Tutor let Phii Fai walk away—Day never saw his friend’s tears again. He didn’t know if Tutor was crying alone in secret. When he asked his close friend Hwahwa, she replied with a worried tone that she didn’t think so. No matter how much pain he was in, Hwahwa believed Tutor would keep all his feelings locked inside and put on a strong front instead.
And that’s exactly why both he and Hwahwa were so worried about Tutor. They feared that the balloon of his fractured emotions, being filled with more and more pressure, might burst again at any moment.
Sometimes, they wished he’d cry just one or two more times. Crying might show weakness and sadness, but at least it would release some of those awful feelings.
“What’s the plan? Sitting there all mopey. Are we going together or not? If we are, get up.”
“Nah.”
“What?”
“Too lazy to walk. Just grab me a water and a couple of snacks instead, Day.”
“Man, you… If you don’t wanna walk, just go sleep.” Day snatched Tutor’s glasses off his face and stuffed them into his shop jacket pocket.
“Hey, Day!”
“Take a break. You can keep translating when I get back.” “But…”
“Rest.” Day pressed his friend’s head down onto the table.
“Close your eyes.”
“…”
“Now.”
“Alright, alright, I get it.”
Day shook his head before ruffling his friend’s hair, making sure Tutor had actually closed his eyes.
A sigh echoed alongside the sound of fading footsteps. Tutor opened his eyes at that moment, letting out a weary breath. His vision wasn’t so bad that he couldn’t see the papers in front of him, but his glasses made the text much clearer. If only he’d worn contact lenses instead.
“Tor.” A voice from behind made Tutor turn around.
“Oh, hey, Phii Tum. Hi.”
“You look kinda pale, man.”
“I haven’t been sleeping much lately.”
“Seriously, you don’t have to push yourself so hard, Tor. If you can’t finish the translation in time, just let me know,” said Phii Tum.
“It’s fine, Phii Tum. By the way, did you bring the documents?”
“I did, here they are.” Tum handed over the documents in a paper bag to Tutor. “There you go.”
“Thanks, Phii Tum, for going out of your way to print them for me. Normally, no one does that.”
“No big deal. You don’t have a printer, do you, Tor?”
“Still, I owe you one, Phii Tum. I’ll try to get the translation done before the middle of next month.”
“No need to rush, Tor. Just do what you can. But if it looks like you won’t make it, let me know two weeks in advance, okay? My friends and I need to submit to the professor by the end of next month.”
“By then, I’ll probably have it done, Phii Tum.”
“I bet you will.” Tum’s heavy hand rested affectionately on Tutor’s head, but the latter instinctively tilted his head to dodge, causing Tum to pull his hand back. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“…”
“…”
“Well, I won’t bother you anymore then. Let’s grab a meal sometime when you’re free, Tor.”
“If I’m free, sure.” Tum nodded awkwardly, knowing full well that even if Tutor had time, he might not agree to go out with him.
“Alright. If you have any questions, just LINE me anytime, Tor.” Tutor nodded, flashing a smile at his senior from the Faculty of Science. Tum walked away, while Tutor turned back to focus on reviewing the documents he’d just received.
But he didn’t get far. Maybe because he wasn’t wearing his glasses, he soon closed his eyes and slumped onto his pale forearms.
The heavy exhaustion in his eyes stemmed from not resting properly for a long time. Tutor admitted to himself that he’d been overworking like never before.
The journal translations, combined with his evening side jobs, helped him forget certain things, even if just for a short while. It was better than returning to his room, where memories of a certain someone overwhelmed him.
Those memories were so abundant that he wanted to curse himself for letting that person into his space so deeply. But no matter how much he scolded himself, it was pointless. If he could turn back time, Tutor knew he’d do the same thing all over again.
He’d let that person walk into his life just the same. And knowing how it all ended, he’d probably try to slow things down, to hold onto every memory even more than he already had.
Tutor couldn’t deny that the arrival of that certain someone was the most beautiful thing in his life.
But that beauty was now slowly breaking his heart. Whether it was the longing that gnawed at his heart, leaving it hollow, or the guilt for what he’d done to that person, causing him to suffer like this.
Tutor was trapped by feelings of guilt. He built a wall around his twisted heart.
A wall that kept anyone from breaking through, a wall that constantly reminded him of the wrongs he’d done, unable to move past them. Never able to.
‘Tutor’
In his dream, Tutor saw someone sitting beside him.
‘Tor,’ the voice calling him was the same as always, no different from the heavy hand that ruffled his hair—warm, gentle, and still the same touch that made his heart race every time.
‘Phii Fai’
‘Yes.’
‘I’m dreaming, aren’t I?’ A dream Tutor didn’t want to wake from just yet, a dream that made him want to sleep a little longer. Even if it was just a dream, it was still good.
“Tor”
“…”
“Tutor,” the owner of the name slowly opened his eyes again. He looked at the person sitting beside him before rubbing his blurry eyes to shake off the drowsiness.
“Hwa?”
“Yeah, it’s Hwa.”
“Sorry, I overslept a bit. When did you get here?”
“A while ago. I saw you sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to wake you. But Day said you’ve got work this evening, and it’s almost time, so I woke you.”
“Oh.”
“So, are you still going to work?”
“Yeah, the shop’s short-staffed. I’ve got to help out.”
“I think he is just being stubborn.”
“Come on, Day, if he wants to go, let him,” Hwahwa and Day bickered for a bit before Day handed back the glasses to their owner. Tutor put them on, gathering the documents and items in front of him into his bag.
“Whose jacket is this, anyway?” Day glanced at the shop jacket draped over Tutor’s shoulder, and Tutor looked at it too. “I remember you didn’t bring a jacket when you left, right?”
“Yeah… I didn’t bring it,” Tutor replied softly. His mind drifted to the dream from less than an hour ago—a dream that might, just maybe, have been real.
“What’s wrong with you, huh?”
“Nothing, nothing. Let’s hurry and get to work.” Tutor stood up, slinging a shop shirt over his arm.
“Whose jacket is that, anyway?”
“Oh… it’s mine. I lent it to a third-year last time, and they probably just returned it.”
“You sure about that, Tor?” Day asked.
“Enough, Day. If Tor says it’s the third-year’s, then it’s the third-year’s,” Hwahwa scolded her boyfriend, not wanting to pester Tutor and make him uncomfortable.
“Alright, alright,” Day gave in, though he was still suspicious but didn’t want to push further.
“If there’s nothing else, I’m heading out. Don’t want to be late for work.”
“Okay, work hard, Tor. If it’s too much, go rest,” the owner nodded to Hwahwa before walking out.
“Don’t ask stuff like that again, Day,” Hwahwa reprimanded him once more.
“I get it, I get it. I’m just annoyed that he won’t admit whose shirt it is, even though he knows damn well.”
Yeah… Day wasn’t wrong. The jacket didn’t belong to a thirdyear. It belonged to someone else, someone Tutor remembered clearly. The size of the shirt, the faint scent of signature cologne—it was unmistakable.
Phii Fai… it’s yours, isn’t it?
You are the one who gave me this shirt.
The racing heartbeat from realizing whose shirt it was hadn’t faded. It was mixed with so many emotions, ones he couldn’t even explain.
One of them was the pain of knowing he’d handed someone that knife himself.
Unable to bear the feeling, Tutor sank to the floor. He closed his eyes slowly, his mind replaying thoughts of that someone over and over.
“Phii Fai… I hurt you so much. Why are you still kind to me? sob Why did you do this?”
Can’t you just let me go?
Can’t you let me be the bad guy, let me suffer alone for what I did to you, Phii Fai?
Stop being kind to me. Please, stop being kind to me.
Because I…
I was never kind to you.
Not even a little…
…
Amid the scorching heat, expected to reach nearly forty degrees, the crowd cheering for the football match didn’t dwindle in the slightest. Tutor was dragged by his close friends, Hwahwa and Day, to watch the game. Though he initially refused, they managed to pull him along anyway.
“It’s so hot, Day, and there are tons of people too,” Tutor complained.
“Well, I told you we should’ve gone to watch a movie or hung out at the mall. Coming to a football match like this, you just have to deal with it,” Hwahwa retorted.
“But if we went to the mall or watched a movie, you wouldn’t have come with us,” Day countered. “If we didn’t practically force him out, he’d probably be holed up in the library until evening.”
“I have to finish translating some work,” Tutor said, catching the whining looks from his friends.
“But the client already said there’s no rush,” Day pointed out.
“True, but I want to finish it quickly in case more work comes in.”
“You’re taking on even more work?!” Day exclaimed.
“Mm-hmm.”
“You’re working like a maniac! Plowing through translations, taking on extra jobs—have you ever stopped to look at yourself? Do you see what you look like now? You’re a wreck, like a zombie! You barely sleep, your face is pale, you’ve lost whoknows-how-many kilos. Do you really think this is good for you, Tutor?” Day snapped, clearly frustrated. He was never okay with the state Tutor was in—his friend looked like someone who could collapse and end up in the hospital at any moment.
“Enough, Day,” Hwahwa interjected quickly. “The match is about to start. I’m thirsty—wanna go grab some drinks?” “What do you want? I’ll go get it,” Tutor offered.
“You’re going, Tutor? Maybe Day should go instead,” Hwahwa suggested.
“It’s fine. I want to stretch my legs anyway,” Tutor replied. Hwahwa paused for a moment, glancing at Day as if seeking his opinion. When her boyfriend nodded, she turned back to Tutor.
“Alright, I’ll take a Coke then. What about you, Day?”
“Same as Hwahwa, a Coke. Thanks a lot, man.”
“Mm,” Tutor replied before heading down from the stands toward a nearby drink stall.
As Tutor descended from the stands, he passed by someone entering the field. Dew caught sight of Tutor, who looked shockingly worn out. The last time they met was when Tutor returned Fai’s jacket, and even then, he didn’t seem this bad.
Tutor looked so unwell that Dew couldn’t help but think of someone else—Fighter, his friend who could never let go of Tutor. All this time, Fighter had been searching for answers, trying to understand why Tutor chose to walk away like that. He questioned himself, his friends, and everyone around him about what caused it. In the end, the foolish Fighter could only blame himself.
Blaming himself for rushing the relationship with Tutor too much.
Blaming himself for confessing his love too soon, making Tutor feel uncomfortable enough to leave.
To be honest, Dew himself didn’t know where things between Fighter and Tutor would end up. But seeing his friend in such pain made it impossible not to worry. Deep down, he could only hope things would get better, at least enough for his friend to get back to doing what he used to do. That would be better than letting his life waste away like something already dead.
“Phii Dew,” someone much smaller than Dew approached him with a worried expression.
“What’re you scared of? Why the long face?”
“Do you think I can do it? I won’t be a burden to the team, right?”
“No way. Not a chance.” Dew gently patted Blue’s head, ruffling it as if to encourage him. He nudged Blue toward the team before pulling out his phone to type a Line message to his friend, mentioning that he’d seen Tutor at the soccer field.
Deww: Fai, where you at?
Fighter: Faculty library. What’s up?
Deww: I saw the kid… Tutor.
Fighter: So?
Deww: Nothing, just saying I saw him.
Fighter: So what? He doesn’t want me around anyway.
Maybe he’s already got someone else.
Fighter still vividly remembered that time at the library. He’d seen Tutor talking with some guy. The sight made him so upset he wanted to storm over and ask if that was the reason Tutor had left him.
He was hurt, felt awful. He didn’t even know who that guy was.
Even though the look in Tutor’s eyes when he gazed at that guy was different from how he used to look at him, Fighter couldn’t help but feel resentful. His mind was flooded with questions, all boiling down to why.
Why did Tutor choose to walk away when it seemed like he still cared?
Why did he do that? Fighter didn’t understand.
He never understood.
Deww: Fai, you know damn well, don’t you?
That guy isn’t like you.
Not like how Tutor was with you.
Fighter: So what, Dew? I had him, didn’t I?
But he still dumped me.
Because he doesn’t need me anymore, does he?
Deww: Fai, I don’t even know what to say to you anymore.
This time, I’m just messaging to tell you I saw the kid.
And he didn’t look too good today.
Not sure if he’s sick or not. If you want to see for yourself, come on over.
He’s at the football field right now.
But if you don’t come, up to you. I’ve got a match starting soon.
Fighter finished reading the message and let out a slow sigh. His mind kept replaying the kid’s words, telling him to keep his promise.
The promise to let go.
The promise not to meddle, not to make things awkward for him.
But yeah… in the end, Fighter broke that promise. He broke it by lingering outside the kid’s dorm, by showing up at the shop even though it hurt that he couldn’t walk in, say hi, or talk like normal. Still, he went.
Especially that time he saw Tutor asleep in the library. He couldn’t hold himself back. He couldn’t stop himself from feeling, from touching the kid. He tried to slip back into Tutor’s orbit, even if he ended up getting pushed away like always.
Action equals reaction.
Because after that day he secretly saw the kid, the kid showed up at Dew’s with the shop jacket to return.
He came with words that still lingered in Fighter’s heart.
Words that never faded.
“Tell Phii Fai to stop bothering me, Dew… no more sneaking around to see me at the shop or the dorm.”
Tutor didn’t know Fighter was hiding behind that pillar, hearing every cruel word from those small lips. But what could he do? He was already in love—loved in a way that he didn’t know how to erase the kid’s image from his mind.
Now, with Dew messaging that the kid might be sick, his heart wanted to go check on him one more time.
But he didn’t know. Didn’t know what he’d say if he saw Tutor face-to-face again.
Didn’t know if he could handle being pushed away again.
His heart wasn’t strong enough to take the pain of the one he loved saying they didn’t want him, right to his face.
Who could endure that?
…
“All done, 48 baht.”
“Here you go.” Tutor handed the money to the auntie at the drink stall, taking two Cokes in his hands. As he was about to head back to the football field, someone—Zon—bumped into him hard.
The two Coke cups in his hands slipped and fell to the ground.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine.”
“I’ll buy new ones.” Tutor froze, the voice hitting him clearer than before.
When he looked up, the sight before him confirmed the identity of this person.
A person… not just from a dream.
Someone he hadn’t seen in who knows how long.
“It’s okay, I’ll buy them myself,” Tutor finally replied. He gave a faint smile before bending down to pick up the scattered cups and straws from the ground. But Fighter took them from his hands and threw them into the trash instead.
“Thanks,” Tutor could only manage to say. He didn’t dare meet the eyes of the person in front of him, perhaps because the sadness in Phii Fai’s gaze was more than his heart could bear.
“I’ll get going, then.”
The awkwardness building between them left him at a loss, and in the end, it was Tutor who spoke first, excusing himself.
“Wait.” Fighter reached out and grabbed his arm. The heat from Tutor’s body transferred to Fighter’s cool hand, making the taller man frown with concern. “You’re burning up, Tor.”
“It’s just the sun.”
“Look at your face before you say that. You’re pale as hell,” Fighter scolded, raising a hand to check Tutor’s forehead. The heat was unmistakable—Tutor was definitely sick. “Come to the infirmary with me.”
“No way.”
“Tor, I’m begging you, stop being stubborn.”
“…”
“Please.” The pleading tone was nothing compared to the pitiful look in Fighter’s eyes.
Who said Tutor was strong? Who claimed he could handle these feelings?
In reality, just seeing Phii Fai’s face, meeting his eyes, and hearing a few words from him was enough to shatter the walls Tutor had built to protect certain emotions, leaving them in ruins.
At that moment, Tutor realized that a gaze could truly kill. The look Phii Fai gave him was like a knife slowly slicing through the center of his heart.
It wasn’t a look of disdain but one of desperate pleading, as if begging to stay by his side. Even if it wasn’t in the same role as before, it didn’t matter—just to stand beside him was enough.
“Please, Tor.”
“Mm,” was all Tutor could manage, nodding at the older man. He followed Fighter’s gentle pull without resistance, thinking to himself that just this once would be enough.
Just this once, he’d follow his heart.
“Your fever’s pretty high,” the nurse said after checking the thermometer on the person sitting on the bed. “Can the person who came with you pick up the medicine for you?”
“Sure,” Fighter nodded and followed the nurse out. Tutor watched until the door closed, then let out a heavy sigh.
This feeling was awful. Tutor felt trapped in a maze with no way out. The air inside seemed to grow thinner, suffocating him, tormenting him until he wanted to climb out.
But Tutor couldn’t climb out. Maybe because he was scared— terrified—that the poison within him would destroy a family, one with a father and his only son.
It hurt.
It hurt so much. He’d decided to let go, but he couldn’t stop thinking about that person. Sometimes, he wondered if what he was doing was right, questioning himself over and over again if it was truly the best choice.
Because if it was the right path, why did both he and Fighter still feel such pain?
A pain so intense it felt like his heart might break.
Creak
The hospital room door opened, and Fighter returned, holding medicine and a glass of water. He walked over and sat on the bed beside Tutor, reaching up to check his fever again.
“Want me to wipe you down? Got a headache?” “…” Tutor didn’t answer, just shook his head.
“Then take the medicine first.” Fighter handed him the pills.
“Here’s some water.”
Tutor swallowed the medicine and water, then handed the glass back. Fighter placed it on the bedside table before meeting Tutor’s eyes again.
Honestly, the look in Tutor’s eyes—Fighter didn’t want to assume what it meant. He didn’t want to guess if it reflected the same feelings he was grappling with.
Fighter didn’t want to get his hopes up, but in the end, he couldn’t help it.
His hand instinctively reached out to rest on Tutor’s head, gently stroking it as if to comfort him. A million words swirled in his mind, questions he wanted to ask: How have you been? Are you tired? Working too hard? Taking care of yourself? Getting any rest?
Have you… ever thought of me?
“Phii Fai,” a hoarse voice called out, accompanied by a pale hand clutching Fighter’s student uniform as if seeking an anchor. Trembling eyes revealed a storm of emotions, no different from the dry lips bitten down hard.
“Yes,” Fighter managed to reply. He lowered his hand to gently stroke the younger one’s smooth cheek, as if to comfort him, lightly brushing as if to say it was okay. He’d stay as long as the younger one wanted him to.
“I…” The smaller figure bit his lip before leaning into Fighter’s shoulder.
“…”
“Hic… I miss you, Phii.” All of Tutor’s efforts, the walls he’d painstakingly built and reinforced, crumbled under the weight of his longing. He missed the person in front of him so much.
It was more than words could ever express.
He didn’t want to hurt anymore.
He didn’t want to lie in that same room filled with memories of Phii.
He missed him, missed Phii Fai. Did he hear him? He missed him so much.
“Hic…” The tears he’d tried so hard to hold back spilled messily. Sobs echoed through the infirmary. The strong hand that had been caressing his cheek now wrapped tightly around Tutor, holding him close. It was a shared feeling neither could deny.
“I miss you too.”
“…”
“I miss you so much, same as you, Tor.”
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