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He continued past the front entrance, the lone flagpole at the office doors. Past the main drop-off area where first-year students had the quickest route to the lockers. Past the back of the cafeteria. Past the outstretched field leading to the rows of portable classrooms that always had broken air units.

Every building was dark. Every field was empty. But Jun’s body remembered it all—the shortcuts through the corridors, the echo of his shoes on the concrete, the sound of his own breathing as he ran.

He stopped the car at the furthest end of campus—in front of the newest building. Its white plaster walls were too modern, too clean, against the school’s muted beige architecture from the seventies. The building Jun loathed in all of its towering glory.

The science lab.

He stared at the glass doors. In the dark, they reflected nothing but headlights and shadow. The last time he’d stood in front of those doors, he wasn’t in a car. He was drenched in sweat, wearing a graduation gown, and he could barely breathe.

The morning had been quiet. Ruki was never quiet.

“I might not be able to take you home when the ceremony is over,” Ruki had said as they drove in the morning. “Will that be okay?”

Jun had nodded slowly. “Sure.” His family must have other plans afterwards. But Ruki didn’t explain any further. He was quiet for the rest of the drive.

It was unusual. Ruki was always the one talking about whatever was on his mind—a new song he’d found, something he’d read, a theory about anything. Jun wondered if it was because they had to come to school early for the graduation ceremony rehearsal, or if Ruki was nervous about the valedictorian speech.

When Jun asked, Ruki only smiled briefly and said he would be fine. They continued to school in the early soft yellow morning hours, bubblegum pop mumbling from the speakers.

Jun quietly pushed down the gnawing feeling that something was wrong.

But if Ruki said it was fine, then it had to be fine.

The rest of the day dragged. Ruki was stuck in rehearsal while Jun sat with the rest of the class in homeroom. Everyone hugged in their oversized navy gowns and took pictures for MySpace. Phone numbers were exchanged. Summer plans bounced off the hallway walls.

Jun sat with Alex, Yoona, and Maya, who were arguing about the Fourth of July camping trip. He should have contributed. Instead, he focused on the clock on the wall, counting down the minutes until Ruki returned.

At some point, Shawn and Hanh joined them, claiming they’d finished their portion of the rehearsal. Shawn offered to host them at their family’s summer cabin in Ojai. Jun glanced at the clock again. Thirty minutes since they arrived, and Ruki still wasn’t here.

Shawn mentioned he’d last seen him in the bathroom. Said he was fixing his tie.

Jun frowned, his heart accelerating. Was Ruki upset with the way Jun fixed his tie this morning? Or was it something else that kept him in the bathroom?

Jun ran down the hallway and slammed the bathroom door open. He dropped to check under the stalls for any familiar shoes. Nothing. He whirled around the echoing coral-tiled room. The only other person there was his own reflection—sweaty, panting, shoulders heaving.

He searched the cafeteria. Then the football field—empty, the grass untouched. He sprinted past parents chatting in the hallways and asked, barely able to get the words out, if they’d seen a tall Japanese boy. They all shook their heads.

He circled the campus again. Lost count of how many times he checked the same places.

Everyone around him was laughing, hugging, taking photos—living the best day of their lives.

Jun couldn’t breathe.

“Maybe he’s already on the stage,” Alex said as they lined up at the doors of the gym. “He won’t be hard to miss. He’s the first to speak, right?”

“Yeah,” Jun muttered, staring at the ground.

Yoona gave him a gentle hug around his sulking shoulders. “Don’t worry, Jun. We’re all gonna take a group picture. We’ll find him.”

Alex nodded towards the front of the winding line. “Don’t sweat it, dude. We gotta go to the front though. Catch ya later.”

Jun waved them off and headed to the end of the line towards his designated spot, Zhang. Classmates made small talk around him. Every few seconds, he raised his toes to see above the sea of graduation caps. Inch by inch, the line moved into the air-conditioned gym. His line-mate may have exchanged some words with him. Jun wasn’t listening. He scanned the spacious gym—the stage, the audience, every corner—three times.

Alex and Yoona were seated in the second row on the stage. Shawn was on the side of the stage.

With an empty chair beside him. Ruki’s chair.

Mrs. and Mr. Ayase were talking to the vice principal at the steps of the stage. Mrs. Ayase kept nodding, but her face was anguished with every word.