Zan3u

After the loss of his father, Caesar Tiu finds himself retreating into a world of silence. Once a confident top student, he now walks through life as a shadow of who he used to be—detached, indifferent, and unwilling to let anyone in. That is until he meets Blythe, a girl with platinum blonde hair and eyes as bright as the sky. Unlike him, she is bold, outspoken, and completely unafraid to challenge his quiet world.

What starts as an unexpected friendship slowly turns into something deeper. Through Blythe, Caesar rediscovers laughter, trust, and the warmth of human connection. But emotions are never simple, and when an unexpected rumor threatens to break their fragile bond, Caesar is forced to confront feelings he never intended to acknowledge. Meanwhile, Zach, the arrogant boy he once disliked, slowly becomes an unexpected ally, proving that even the most unlikely friendships can hold meaning.

Blue is a heartfelt story of love, loss, and healing—of a boy learning to face his past and a girl who teaches him that even in the loneliest moments, there is always a shade of blue waiting to be seen.

Blue:What the Sky Remembers

The distance between them wasn't just in the way they spoke—or rather, didn't speak. It wasn't just in the lack of stolen glances, the absence of arguments, or the silence that had replaced everything they used to be. It was something deeper than that, something unspoken yet undeniable.

It was in the way they had both stopped trying.

There was a time when Caesar would have noticed every shift in Blythe's mood, every flicker of emotion that crossed her face. There was a time when Blythe would have known exactly what was going on in his mind, even before he said anything.

Now, they were just two people walking the same halls, breathing the same air, yet existing in entirely separate worlds.

Caesar had spent so long pretending he didn't care that, eventually, he started to believe it.

He let himself get lost in the attention, in the growing circle of people who knew his name, in the ease of being liked without having to try too hard. It was simple. It was effortless.

And maybe that was why it felt so empty.

At least, that's what he told himself.

He didn't sit alone in class. He didn't eat lunch in the quiet corners of the cafeteria anymore. His messages were full, his weekends packed with plans, his name thrown into conversations he wasn't even a part of.

There were girls who laughed at everything he said. There were guys who treated him like he belonged.

He had become someone people noticed.

And yet, the one person he wanted to notice him didn't even spare him a second glance.

There was a moment—just one—that nearly shattered the illusion.

It was late after school, long after most students had gone home. Caesar had stayed behind, waiting for a friend who had asked him to meet up, but they had taken too long. He had been about to leave when he saw her.

She was sitting by the window at the end of the hallway, bathed in the soft, fading light of the evening sun. There was no one else around. Just her. Just him.

For a second, something tightened in his chest, something sharp and bitter and unfamiliar.

Not in a physical way—she was still Blythe, still effortlessly put together, still dressed with that careful, deliberate style she always had.

But there was something in the way she sat, the way she stared out the window like she was somewhere else entirely.

And for a brief, reckless moment, he thought about walking over.

He thought about breaking the silence, about saying something—anything—just to remind her that he was still here. That they weren't strangers.

Before he could stop himself, the words slipped out.

Her head snapped up. She blinked, as if she wasn't sure she had heard right. Slowly, she turned to look at him.

For a second, just a second, there was something in her expression—something soft, something familiar.

And then, just as quickly, it was gone.

"…What?" Her voice was flat, indifferent.

Caesar hesitated. He hadn't planned this far ahead. Hadn't thought about what he was actually going to say.

"…Nothing," he muttered, shaking his head. "Forget it."

She frowned slightly, watching him for a moment longer.

Then she turned back toward the window.

Caesar walked away before he could do something even stupider, like try again.

Because the truth was, he had already lost her.

And there was no point in pretending otherwise.

That night, as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, the thought crept in before he could stop it.

Once, the answer would have been obvious.

And that uncertainty felt worse than anything else.

The Space Between Us