Dawn arrived in Suzhou wrapped in silence, as if time itself hesitated to begin the day. Heavy clouds covered the sky like a gray veil, and the air smelled of damp earth and promises life hadn't had the courage to keep. It was a morning that whispered omens.
Sui arrived at school early. Her steps were light, almost a plea for invisibility. The hallways echoed, empty, except for a lit classroom at the end of the corridor. Inside, Gabriel was already there — alone, seated at the third desk. He gazed out the window, into a world perhaps only he could see, as if waiting for something… or someone.
She paused at the door, her heart beating faster. Took a deep breath. Stepped in.
He raised his eyes slowly, as if waking from a dream. And in that brief meeting of glances, something ancient and yet unborn formed between them — silent, delicate, inevitable.
Sui offered a shy smile.
__ Thank you... she whispered.
Gabriel raised an eyebrow, curious, but didn't break the gentleness of the moment.
__ For what?
__ For yesterday... for helping me with English, she said, as if it hadn't been just that.
He looked at her a moment longer than necessary. Didn't push. There was something in her that asked for gentleness. He simply nodded, with a half-smile that said: I know. But I'll wait until you want to say it.
__ You're welcome, Sui.
The classroom began to fill, but inside that room, time felt suspended — as if the rest of the world didn't matter.
Later, during class, an unexpected moment drew everyone's attention: Gabriel dropped his pencil case. As he bent down to pick it up, his leg gave out. He stumbled and nearly fell.
The teacher paused mid-sentence:
__ Are you okay, Gabriel?
__ Yes, he answered quickly, composed — like someone who was used to hiding pain.
Sui watched in silence. And for the first time, truly noticed: the careful way he moved, the effort to avoid sudden gestures. It wasn't just physical — it was a deep, old pain, maybe more emotional than muscular. A scar he carried inside.
During the break, between hurried steps and distant laughter, Gabriel approached.
__Sui... do you have lunch plans?
She hesitated, smiled softly, but kept her distance.
__ Not today... I brought food from home.
__ Alright, he said gently. But for a moment, his eyes seemed darker.
__ Maybe another day.
He walked away with the same silence he arrived in. And inside, something in Sui tightened. A strange, unfamiliar feeling. Like an empty space where a beginning could fit.
Her friends arrived, floating in like wind:
__ Sui! Are you going to the festival this weekend? There'll be dancing, lights by the canal, floating lanterns!
__ And we're signing up for the music contest! You're coming, right?
__ And yesterday? I saw you talking to the new guy... he's cute, huh?
Sui just laughed, shaking her head as if brushing away a secret.
She pretended everything was fine.
But inside... it wasn't.
When she got home, everything fell apart.
Meimei lay on a thin mattress, her face burning with fever, eyes dull, breathing heavy and shallow.
__ She can't get up, her mother said, kneeling beside her. Her voice barely audible. She's been like this since morning.
At the clinic, the doctor didn't take long:
__ It's an infection. She needs this antibiotic... today. Without it, she might get worse. But… it's not cheap.
Sui's world shook.
Later that night, she ran to the pharmacy. The white light at the counter clashed with the darkness outside. The air smelled of alcohol, paper, and indifference.
__ Ma'am, please... I have part of the money. But my sister... she's very sick. I promise I'll bring the rest tomorrow morning.
The attendant looked her up and down, expression unchanged.
__ I'm sorry. Rules are rules. Without full payment, I can't sell it.
__ Please...
__ If I make an exception for you, I'll have to do it for everyone.
Her voice was cold, like a door slowly closing. Sui's throat tightened. Her eyes filled, but she swallowed the tears, no longer strong enough to plead.
That's when the pharmacy door opened with a soft chime.
__ Sui?
The familiar voice made her turn. Gabriel. His white shirt soaked with rain, umbrella bent, eyes full of concern.
__ What happened?
She simply handed him the prescription, voice trembling:
__ I don't have enough...
Gabriel didn't hesitate. He stepped past her and approached the counter.
__ How much is missing?
__ Fifty-seven yuan.
He pulled out his wallet, handed over the wet bills. The attendant took the money, still indifferent, and disappeared behind the shelves.
Sui still couldn't believe it. Gabriel turned and smiled — but then his gaze stopped. A dark, discreet stain had begun to form on the back of Sui's school pants.
She followed his eyes — and understood.
The floor felt like it vanished beneath her.
__ No... not now..." she murmured, trying to hide, retreating in panic.
__ Come," Gabriel said softly. Trust me.
He grabbed the medicine bag and walked with her to the corner of the pharmacy, near the staff bathroom.
__ Wait here.
He returned minutes later with another bag: a change of comfortable clothes, a small towel, tissues, and a pack of pads.
__ Go. Take care of yourself. I'll wait for you at the entrance.
She held the bag as if it were something sacred. Her lips trembled.
__ I... don't know how to thank you.
__ You don't have to. It's going to be okay.
She entered. Locked the door. Washed. Changed. Cried. Cried like someone who had held everything in for days, weeks, maybe longer.
When she came out, Gabriel was still there. Wet. Silent. Holding a chocolate bar for her. As if there was no place more important in the world than that moment.
__ Feeling better? he asked gently.
She nodded, still unable to speak at first. Her eyes were still glassy.
__ You... saved my sister today. You saved me, too.
Gabriel simply smiled. But it wasn't pity. It was something rare — something Sui barely knew: respect. Care. Presence.
__ Tell me. What's going on with you?
She took a deep breath. Her voice trembled, but this time, it was honest.
__ Meimei... she's only eight. Since our father died, she gets sick easily. This morning, she woke up with a high fever. Could barely open her eyes. My mom stayed home with her and sent me to get help.
Sui looked down, as if meeting his eyes was too much.
__ At the clinic, the doctor said it was serious... that it could get worse if we didn't buy the antibiotic today. But it costs more than I had. Way more. I gathered every coin at home. Thought it would be enough. Thought I could negotiate...
She swallowed hard.
__ The attendant looked at me like I was invisible. Said she couldn't help. Said it was policy. But... how do you explain rules to a burning child? How do you wait for tomorrow, when the pain is today?
Gabriel said nothing. Just listened. And in that silence, she felt permission to go on.
__ I... I thought I'd have to go home empty-handed. See my mom waiting for me, full of hope... and I'd have nothing. I don't think I could've handled it. And then... you appeared.
— Being this poor makes me angry. Desperate. But I study, hoping to give them a better life.
She laughed, a faint laugh, flavored with tears.
__ And then that — she gestured to the clothes she now wore, embarrassed, — as if the day hadn't humiliated me enough. It felt like the whole world wanted to crush me today.
Gabriel stepped closer. Not to invade her space — but to share its weight.
__ The world... sometimes bad things happen to good people.
She looked at him, surprised by the gentleness in his voice.
__ But no one should carry it all alone.
They stood in silence. The pharmacy was almost empty, the cold lights reflecting in their eyes. Outside, the rain fell softly — as if listening too.
On the walk back home, under the persistent drizzle, Sui walked beside Gabriel in silence. The crooked umbrella barely covered them, but neither seemed to care.
When they reached home, her mother was sleeping with Meimei in her arms. Sui gently woke her and gave her the medicine.
Afterwards, she went to say goodbye to Gabriel. Beneath the awning of the old building where she lived, she looked into his eyes.
__ You're different.
__ Maybe I'm just trying to be... someone decent.
__ You make it seem effortless.
__ It's not effortless, Sui, he replied, with a sad smile. "But it's easier when someone looks back.
She blushed. Before going upstairs, she turned:
__ Good night, Gabriel.
__ Good night, Sui. Sleep in peace. Your sister will feel better today.
As the door closed behind her, Gabriel remained still, staring at the gray sky over Suzhou. He pulled out his phone and called quietly.
__ You can come, he said in perfect Chinese. Bring the car.
A black vehicle appeared minutes later. Gabriel entered in silence.
__ Take me home, he told the driver.
In the back seat, he closed his eyes. A single phrase escaped, soft:
__ She's stronger than I imagined.
Some nights collapse in tears. Others… blossom in trust.