They say when someone you love disappears, the world doesn't stop.
But mine did.
Just for a moment.
The air turned still. Sound vanished. Time itself forgot how to move.
And then... it all began again. Like it never knew he existed.
Like it never saw him love me.
Like it never watched him disappear right before my eyes.
I collapsed to the ground.
My knees hit the snow, but I couldn't feel the cold anymore. Not with the way my heart was screaming. Not with the way my chest felt like it was cracking open with every breath I took.
He was gone.
Shiwei was gone.
And in my hands...
All I had left was the hourglass.
His hourglass.
Still warm. Still glowing faintly. As if some part of him—just the smallest sliver—refused to let go.
The last piece of him.
The last proof that he was real.
That he lived.
That he loved me.
I held it against my chest, trembling. My fingers curled around it like it was all that tethered me to this world.
And I cried.
I cried like there was nothing else to do—like I'd forgotten how to stand, how to speak, how to breathe without him. The tears fell too fast, too hard, soaking into my sleeves, freezing against my skin.
"Shiwei..."
My voice cracked.
"Shiwei... I love you... I love you—!"
Again.
"And I always will!"
And again.
"Come back to me! Please—!"
But no one answered.
Only silence.
Only snow.
Only the cold.
Until—
A sound.
So faint I thought I imagined it.
Like a whisper carried by the wind.
Like a memory.
A voice... soft, ancient, and everywhere at once.
"You're holding the object that symbolizes us..."
"Tell me..."
"Do you wish to become one of us?"
"To become a Warden?"
I blinked.
My breath caught in my throat.
The world faded.
Only the voice remained.
I looked down at the hourglass glowing gently in my hands. Time, still turning. Still alive.
My tears didn't stop, but something inside me shifted. Something quiet, and brave, and aching.
I slowly rose to my feet.
The world around me still felt heavy, but I stood anyway—like he would have wanted me to. Like he knew I could.
My hands trembled, but I held the hourglass close, as if it were a heartbeat I couldn't bear to lose.
I looked at it—really looked.
And for a moment... I thought I saw him.
His smile. That gentle, reckless smile that ruined me.
The boy who once fell from the stars just to meet me.
I exhaled shakily.
Then I looked up at the night sky—quiet and endless.
"Yes," I whispered. "I'm willing to become one."
For you, Shiwei.
To understand the path you walked.
To carry the light you left behind.
To keep your promise alive.
And in the silence that followed, I closed my eyes.
Watch over me, okay?
Because from now on...
I'll walk through time, too.
For both of us.
***
It's only been three years since I became a Time Warden.
Just three years.
But already... I've made my choice.
Like Shiwei once did, I, too, will descend.
Not to observe.
Not to study the rhythms of humanity.
But to walk where he once walked.
To see the world not as a normal human... but as his eyes once saw it...
Through the cracks of sorrow.
Through the fleeting moments of joy.
Through the quiet, unspoken hope that clings to every broken soul.
And yet...
As I descend, as I touch the earth again—It already feels like a lifetime.
So much has changed.
And yet, so much hasn't.
The city still breathes the same way.
The streets still pulse with life, even in their silence.
And the Ricebowl diner— Ricebowl Haven— where I used to work, is still standing.
Still busy.
Still filled with laughter and the clinking of spoons and bowls.
The scent of fried rice and sauces hits me like a memory I had locked away.
I can't help but smile.
It's warm here.
Warm in a way that time can never quite replicate.
As I walk down the sidewalk, robes brushing against the wind, I slow.
There... in the crowd.
A man.
He walks with slouched shoulders, dragging footsteps.
Exhaustion clings to him like a second skin.
But his eyes—They burn.
With quiet fire. With fight.
He looks lost, but not defeated.
I step toward him, letting my presence ripple gently through the human world.
He looks up, surprised by the strange girl cloaked in white.
I ask softly, "Why do you seem so lost?"
He smiles faintly. Not bitterly. Just... tired.
"I guess life is just hard," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "But I'm still fighting."
My gaze follows his.
A girl stands across the street.
Worn-out, just like him.
But she's smiling—soft, brave, and beautiful in that quiet way people often miss.
The kind of smile you wear for someone else when your own world feels heavy.
My heart aches for them.
For their silent war.
For their fragile hope.
I reach into the folds of my robe and pull out a small silver ring.
Delicate. Simple. Etched with a forgotten language of time.
I hold it out to him.
"Here," I whisper. "Take this."
He hesitates.
"What is it?" he asks.
I press it into his hand.
"A chance," I say gently.
"Wear it... and the painful memories in her heart can vanish—like they were never there. Like time never touched them."
His eyes widen. Words fail him.
But before he can speak, I add—
"But be careful. Everything comes with a price.
Memories may fade, but the scars underneath... still remain."
He bows, grateful.
"Thank you."
Then, without another word, he walks toward her.
Toward the girl whose smile is still waiting.
I watch as their hands brush.
As their steps slow.
As something tender, something hopeful, flickers between them.
And I smile—just faintly.
"Hey, Shiwei..."
"I hope their love can pass all their trials..."
"And stay together for a lifetime."
"The thing... we never got to achieve."
A single tear falls down my cheek, tracing a path of quiet mourning.
But I don't stop it.
I let myself feel it.
Because even in pain... love survives.
I look up at the sky—at the place where I last saw you.
"Good luck, broken man," I whisper.
And this time, I mean it with everything I have.
"I hope you find happiness."
Because in this ever-turning world of time and memory...
Sometimes, just sometimes—
Two people can meet at the wrong time...
But that doesn't mean they won't be together...
They just have to wait...
Isn't that right?
Shiwei...