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He opened his eyes. Slowly, almost unconsciously delicate, his eyelids lifted. His very first sight was that of a ceiling he had never seen before. Smooth, yellowed with age, crisscrossed with small cracks that stretched like fine scars across the plaster.
Then came his first sensation. He noticed the light warmth that wrapped around his body. A soft, light blanket rested over him like a reassuring caress. He inhaled deeply, catching the faint dusty smell that floated in the air. Then, with a certain hesitation, he lowered his gaze to see where he was lying.
— W… Where am I? he whispered, his trembling voice barely audible, yet enough to reveal the anxiety trembling in his chest.
His eyes wandered around the space, analyzing every detail of the unknown place. He realized he was lying on an old spring couch, its fabric worn and marked by years of use. The room itself was nothing more than a rundown apartment of about fifty square meters. Two small sofas sat side by side, facing a shabby little kitchen with crooked cupboards that seemed to creak at the slightest breeze, and a half-open door likely leading to the bathroom. The walls, yellowed and tired, looked as though they were sighing under the weight of time.
Panic began to creep into him—not because of the place itself, but for a far more terrifying reason.
— I… I don't remember anything… he breathed, his voice trembling, as if begging for some confirmation, some answer that would never come.
His mind spun wildly, unable to grasp even a single clear image of his past. As he struggled to untangle truth from emptiness, a faint sound suddenly startled him: soft, steady breathing, like a gentle snore. Slowly, he turned his head toward the second couch, and his eyes widened.
There, peacefully asleep, lay a young girl. Her chest rose and fell in calm rhythm. Fine eyebrows framed her serene expression, and her black hair, streaked with vivid red strands, spilled messily across her face. The sight was so unexpected that a shiver ran down his spine. In a voice barely louder than a breath, he whispered:
— What… what did I do to end up in the same house as this girl? Should I wake her… or not?
He hesitated for long moments, torn between fear and the desperate need for answers. At last, realizing this stranger might hold the key to his confusion, he gathered his courage. With trembling fingers, he reached out and gently touched her shoulder.
Suddenly, a piercing scream shattered the silence.
— AAAAAHHHHHHH!!!
The girl jolted awake, her eyes wide, her breathing fast and shallow. But when she recognized the boy's face, she blinked several times before realizing it was only the one she had found the day before.
— A-are you okay, ma'am? the boy asked nervously, guilt heavy in his voice.
— Oh, yeah… you just scared me, that's all. I'm not really used to being woken up like that, she admitted, her features softening with a hint of embarrassment.
She paused for a second, then frowned.
— Wait, wait, wait! Did you just call me "ma'am"?! You look my age! Seriously, that makes me sound ten years older… totally depressing.
— S-sorry… it's just that… I don't know how else to call you…
A small smile appeared on her lips.
— That's easy. My name's Lina. Fifteen years old. Nice to meet you. And you?
The boy froze at her words. His eyes dropped, his expression clouded with a quiet, painful weight.
— Well… I've lost my memory, he murmured. I was hoping you could… tell me my name.
Lina sighed softly, shrugging her shoulders.
— Sorry, dude. I found you yesterday in the forest, in the ruins of a building that had exploded. I wanted to take you to the hospital, but… you were healing on your own. Slowly, yeah, but your wounds were closing by themselves. And honestly, I figured you'd only get into trouble if I brought you there.
To underline her words, she crossed her fingers into an "X" shape, signaling a firm no.
The boy's face went pale as ash, his body stiffening. The weight of her revelation crushed him, his expression collapsing in shock. Seeing him like this, Lina scratched her head awkwardly, until suddenly her eyes lit up, as though struck by a bright idea.
Leaning forward, she gently placed her fingers on the boy's lips, stretching them into a forced smile. Perplexed, he lifted his gaze toward her, meeting her sparkling eyes and wide grin.
— You know… a face always looks better when it smiles. So smile. And since you don't have a name… I'll give you one.
— G-give me… a name? he repeated, unsettled.
— Yep. Let me think…
She closed her eyes for a moment, then snapped her fingers in satisfaction.
— Got it! Your name will be… Zack. From now on, you're Zack. How does that sound?
The boy remained silent for a moment, as though the new name needed time to sink into the empty space of his mind. Then, slowly, his lips curved into a real smile this time.
— It's… beautiful, he whispered, his voice filled with quiet emotion.