The Gift Without a Name
The final school bell rang brightly throughout the wooden provincial elementary school building. A boy named Nont—Chanon—stood in his slightly worn student uniform, the kind that showed all the signs of a mischievous child. He was staring at the small figure of a girl with neatly tied white ribbons in her hair.
Mint—Mallika—was like the sunshine of the classroom. Everyone wanted to talk to her. Everyone wanted to run and play with her. Unlike Nont… he was quiet, blending into the classroom walls. As he walked past the front of the room, he heard someone sobbing softly.
"Sniff… Nont, my colored pencils are gone. I can't find them," Mint said, turning to him with tear-filled eyes.
In her hands was a wooden colored pencil box, now empty in several slots. It was a brand-new Horse-brand set she had proudly shown her friends that morning. Nont didn't say anything. He lowered his gaze to his own pencil box, much older and more worn.
The little boy's heart tightened. His first feeling wasn't regret over lost belongings—it was the burning ache in his chest at the sight of her tears. Some of his pencils were worn down to stubs, some scratched to bare wood. But they were his "treasure," the one thing he was most proud of.
He knew that if he gave them away, his box would look pitiful and incomplete. But when he looked up and met Mint's trembling eyes, he realized that the pain of losing something he loved was nothing compared to standing there and doing nothing while she cried.
In that fleeting moment, Nont learned an emotion adults call "sacrifice." But it was a sacrifice laced with cowardice. He was too afraid to hand them to her directly—afraid she would see how old they were and feel disgusted, afraid that the word "love," which he barely understood, would reveal itself through those faded colors.
He clenched his fists and made a silent promise. Even if his box ended up empty—even if he had no pencils left for his schoolwork—he would accept it… as long as his pencils could bring a smile back to Mint's face.
That evening, Nont slipped into the empty classroom. He took his best red and blue pencils and placed them on Mint's desk, along with a torn scrap of notebook paper that read in clumsy handwriting:
"These are to replace the ones you lost."
The next morning, Nont saw Mint smiling widely at her friends, saying that some kind person had returned them. He hid behind a lamppost and smiled to himself. His happiness at ten years old was simple… just being the one who made her smile, even if she never knew it was him.
On a breezy Friday lunchtime, Nont sat on a marble bench beneath a spreading tropical almond tree, its leaves drifting down lightly. In his hands were two packets of sticky rice and grilled pork from Mint's favorite vendor. He always bought an extra one on purpose. Mint sat beside him, focused on writing something in her favorite eco-friendly notebook.
Her bangs fluttered in the wind, and she kept brushing them away in annoyance. Nont watched her with quiet tenderness. Without saying a word, he shifted to where the sunlight was strongest so his shadow would fall across her notebook, shielding her eyes from the glare.
"Nont, this grilled pork is as good as ever. Thanks for remembering I don't eat the fatty parts," Mint said without looking up.
Nont simply smiled. He was getting used to being the quiet giver at her side—like air, present but unnoticed.
They wandered to the playground, now quiet as most classmates were playing soccer. They sat on iron swings that creaked rhythmically as they moved. The wide blue sky seemed to hold all the dreams of twelve-year-olds.
"Nont, what do you want to be when you grow up?"
He slowed his feet against the sand, nearly stopping the swing.
"Me? Maybe… someone who helps others," he replied, gazing at her profile glowing in the golden evening light. At this age, Mint was already growing into a beauty that stood out among her peers.
"Then you have to keep helping me forever," she said playfully, extending her little finger.
To her, it was a joke. To Nont, it was a sacred command. He gently hooked his little finger around hers. His heart swelled until it felt too big for his chest.
"And… where are you going for middle school?" he asked casually, though his palms were sweating.
"I'm thinking of taking the entrance exam for the provincial secondary school. Mom says it's academically strong—but it's really hard to get in. What about you?"
"I'm going there too," he answered immediately. "I'll study really hard so we can get into the same class… so I can help you with your studies."
"Really? If we get in, you have to sit next to me like always. Don't sit with anyone else," she said, dimples deep in her smile.
He nodded firmly, making a vow to himself. From that day on, the boy who never cared much about grades began carrying thick textbooks home every day. He didn't want to be top of the class. He didn't want awards. His only goal was to score high enough to keep his "place" beside her in their new school.
As dusk settled over the playground and friends drifted away, Mint jumped off the swing.
"Nont… it's getting late. Let's go home before my mom scolds me."
"Okay. I'll walk you to the front gate," he said, slinging his bag over one shoulder and adjusting the strap of her pink backpack for her.
As they walked out of school, Nont glanced at their shadows stretching across the concrete. The two silhouettes walked side by side—closer in shadow than in reality. His mind was filled only with study plans, calculating what subjects he needed to improve so they wouldn't be separated.
"Nont… promise that if we both pass, you'll walk me home like this every day."
"Promise… I'll walk you home until you don't want me to anymore," he replied without hesitation—never imagining those words would bind him to this role for the next ten years, even on days when the seat beside him on the bus or the back of a motorcycle no longer belonged to him.
"Good. You're the sweetest, Nont. You're the friend who understands me best," Mint laughed, running ahead toward the school gate.
The friend who understands me best.
The words slipped easily from her lips. Nont paused for a moment. He was happy to be praised… yet deep inside, something tightened—a small ache forming quietly. The feeling of someone willing to carry everything just to walk beside her, yet forever underlined by a title that would never change.
He quickly ran after her, smiling brightly at her back.
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