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Someone I wasn't supposed to forget?
The thought echoed inside my mind like a ripple across still water, subtle yet jarring. How could I not remember someone who stood before me with such conviction in her eyes? It was strange,eerie even,that I couldn't recall her voice, her face, or even a hint of her name. I could quote more lines from my favorite novel than I could remember real people, which was saying something. But still, shouldn't I be able to remember something,anything,when looking at her?
I couldn't.
There was a void where a memory should've been. At first, I considered the worst. Maybe she was a scammer. Maybe she had mistaken me for someone else,or worse, she was setting me up. Seoul had no shortage of con artists. I'd read about them in the newspapers and seen a few myself in subway stations or busy street corners, targeting lonely-looking people like me.
But I didn't speak. I didn't run. I stayed rooted to the spot, as if my feet had been glued to the wet tiles of the café floor.
Because something about her mole-just below the corner of her left eye,tugged at something in me.
It reminded me of something I had lost. And not something trivial like a pen or a toy from childhood. No, this was different. This was the kind of loss that left a hollow in your chest,a permanent absence. A chasm.
The last time I'd felt something like this was when my mother had been sent to prison.
Or when I'd discovered she was the one who had killed my father.
Could this woman be related to my mother somehow? A daughter of one of her friends? A childhood neighbor perhaps? The ideas spiraled in my mind like rainwater circling a drain, too many and too fast to catch.
I realized I'd been silent for too long, lost in the corridors of my own head. She hadn't said anything either,just stood there with that calm smile, as though she knew I needed the silence.
"I'm sorry, Miss," I said at last, shaking my head. "I really can't find you in my memories… but your mole… it feels like I've seen it before. Many times."
"Oh, my mole?" she laughed, a sound like raindrops on glass. "Wow. I can't believe you remembered something, at least. That's a good start."
"Oh yeah, I guess it is. So, could you… maybe introduce yourself now?"
Instead of answering right away, she nodded silently and reached into her bag. It was a small leather satchel, soaked from the downpour outside. She handled it delicately, like it carried something precious.
From inside, she pulled out a photograph, brushed the droplets off with her palm, and held it out to me with both hands.
"Look," she said. "This is your answer. This is who I am."
Before I even touched it, my hands trembled. A cold shiver ran down my spine.
Something inside warned me: Don't look. But my curiosity, or perhaps something deeper, pushed me forward.
I turned the photo around and saw two elementary school kids, no older than seven or eight, holding hands as they ran across a muddy schoolyard. The picture was faded, a little bent at the corners, but clear enough.
I stared.
And then I shook.
Because I knew.
I knew exactly who was in the picture.
It was me.
And beside me was the first real friend I'd ever had,the first person to bring me joy in a world that had always been gray and grim. The child who had sat beside me in silence when I cried behind the playground slide, who had defended me when others laughed at my hand-me-down shoes. The only person who ever understood the sadness behind my quiet smiles.
I looked up at the woman across from me. Her face hadn't changed as much as I thought. Older, sharper, prettier,but it was her. The same soft gaze. The same mole under her eye.
"I… I'm sorry I forgot you," I whispered, eyes stinging. "I'm sorry, really… I missed you so much, best friend. But I… I forgot your name."
She chuckled and reached out to gently pat my head, like she used to do back then when I got scared of thunder.
"It's okay," she said. "Now that you've remembered a little, I guess it's easier to introduce myself. But I should tell you something first."
She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper, like we were about to share a dangerous secret.
"I never left you alone. Not once. I was always beside you. You just… couldn't see me."
I blinked, confused. "See you? What do you mean? Were you my neighbor or something? A co-worker maybe? But you said you're a fashion designer and just arrived in Seoul. So that wouldn't make sense…"
She smiled. "You're sharp. I like that about you. You always were good at piecing things together."
"Then help me piece this together," I said, my voice edged with a nervous laugh. "Because nothing makes sense right now."
"Explaining how I was with you all this time is easy," she said. "Just three or four words. But I need to know… are you strong enough to handle it?"
I stared at her. My heart thumped faster. Something about this whole encounter was surreal, like a dream painted in watercolor,blurred at the edges, beautiful, but fragile.
"Wait," I said, squinting. "Were you… stalking me?"
She recoiled, offended. "What?! No! I wasn't!"
"I think you're lying," I said, half-joking, half-serious.
"I'm not!"
"Okay, okay," I said, raising my hands. "Sorry. That was rude. But… I forgot your name."
She sighed. "You did? I thought maybe seeing the photo would trigger something."
"I-I uh… it helped, really. But my brain's kind of foggy."
"Fine," she said with mock irritation. "I'll give you a break. I'm Han Sooyoung."
My eyes widened. "Ohhh yeah. Now I get it! In my head, I could only process something like 'Hun-Hun' for some reason. Ha…"
She laughed. "Silly."
There was a warmth in the air now, like the rain had paused just outside the café for a moment of peace.
"Alright," she said, folding her hands. "Wanna know how I was always with you?"
"I do," I said. "But… I'm kind of nervous."
My instincts tugged again. A part of me screamed not to hear what she had to say. Not yet. But she was my friend,my first friend. If I couldn't trust her, then who?
"I am the au-"
Before she could finish, the waiter approached our table.
I flinched.
The spell broke.
"Excuse me," he said. "May I take your order?"
I bit the inside of my cheek, annoyed at the interruption. But Sooyoung just smiled and handed him the menu.
We ordered some fried chicken and seasoned fries. I got a cola. She chose a ginger ale. Cold drinks, despite the weather. Maybe we both just needed something familiar.
When the waiter finally left, I leaned forward again.
"So… you were saying?"
She smirked.
"I am the au-" she began again, but this time slower.
I waited.
Author?
Aura?
Autumn?
What word started with "au" and carried this much weight?
And why did it feel like the moment she said it, my life would never be the same again?
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