"Some people leave, yet continue to light our path forward."
The rain stopped. Dawn crept in.
The hospital corridor glowed faintly gold, quiet to the point of cruelty.
Manida hadn't slept. She sat beside the bed, still holding Parin's hand. There was faint warmth left — and the weakest pulse of life.
"Lin, it's morning," she whispered, voice hoarse.
Parin's lashes trembled; her eyes opened slightly. The light touched her pupils, soft and dim.
"I… heard it," she breathed. "The sun… is it rising?"
Manida forced a smile. "Yes. Just the kind you love — gentle, and bright."
Parin's lips curved faintly. She didn't speak again, only stared quietly at the light, as if engraving its warmth into her soul.
The detective came once more.
"Professor Manida, we've obtained all the evidence. The vice dean and that student colluded to cover up research fund embezzlement. The 'accident' was staged."
He hesitated, lowering his voice. "The student was arrested last night. The vice dean confessed."
Manida closed her eyes, exhaling shakily.
The truth — finally, completely unveiled.
But joy never came.
She turned back to Parin, vision blurred with tears.
"Lin, we won. It's all over now."
Parin lifted her trembling hand, brushing Manida's cheek.
"It's over… that's enough."
Her lips quivered faintly. "Now… can I rest?"
Manida's tears fell in torrents. "No! You can't rest yet — not without me!"
Parin's eyes softened; she smiled weakly.
"Foolish girl… didn't you promise to live for me?"
"I lied…" Manida sobbed. "I don't want to be alone."
Parin's hand trembled, then slowly went still.
Her gaze blurred, yet she kept looking at Manida with unwavering tenderness.
"Remember… don't be afraid of the light… because that's where I'll be."
Her breath faded.
The monitor's line turned flat and red.
Manida froze.
The world went silent.
She lowered her head, pressing her forehead to Parin's cold hand, tears falling soundlessly.
Outside, the morning sun rose fully.
A beam of light pierced through the clouds and fell upon Parin — washing her in peace.
Manida looked up at that light through her tears — and smiled faintly.
"I'll see the world's light for you."
Her voice was soft, yet carried a quiet strength that broke the heart.
Years later,
Spring returned to the academy. Cherry blossoms danced in the wind.
Manida stood before a bronze statue — Parin's smiling face. A monument she herself had proposed.
In her hands was a thick book. On its cover were the words:
"The Truth Beyond the Light"
— Posthumous Work of Professor Parin Suanta
Manida looked up at that familiar smile.
"I finished it for you," she whispered.
Sunlight fell on her glasses, reflecting a gleam so bright it almost looked alive.
For a moment, she could almost see Parin standing beneath the cherry tree, smiling at her.
That night, Manida fell asleep at her desk.
In her dream, she was back in the library — the place where they first met.
The sun shone warmly. Parin leaned against the shelf, white shirt glowing in the light, smiling as she once did.
"Why are you crying again?" she teased softly, wiping away Manida's tears. "Didn't I tell you not to cry for me anymore?"
"I'm afraid I'll never see you again," Manida whispered.
Parin shook her head, opening her palm, which glowed faintly.
"I've always been here — just in another form."
She pointed to the golden sky outside.
"That light — that's me."
Manida's tears mixed with a trembling smile.
"Then I'll keep walking toward the light."
Parin's figure dissolved into the glow, leaving only a whisper—
"Remember… I'll be waiting at the other end of the light."
Manida awoke. Morning had come.
Sunlight streamed through the window, falling on a familiar fountain pen — engraved with the words:
"Written by Fate."
She smiled gently and closed Parin's notebook.
"I know… you're still here."
Outside, the wind stirred softly — as if in reply.
"Love never ends with death."
"She became the light — and Manida lived as light itself."