The morning bell shrieked, but I didn't move. I was frozen, leaning against the cold wall of the hallway, replaying her words in my head.
"...it felt like we'd talked about that before."
The chaos of students rushing to class swirled around me, a current I wasn't a part of. I was an island, stranded by a single, impossible sentence.
"...I have a really bad memory."
The understatement of a lifetime. And yet, for a nanosecond, something had broken through. A splinter of a connection from a day she couldn't remember.
Was it a fluke? My overactive, hope-poisoned imagination?
My phone buzzed in my pocket, pulling me from my trance. It was Zeke.
Agent Pineapple: Dude, where are you? The rain plan worked, right? She didn't bite you, did she? I'm worried about the whole vampire thing.
I couldn't help a small, shaky exhale of a laugh. The sheer absurdity of Zeke brought me back to Earth.
Me: Plan worked. No vampirism detected. Something... else happened. I'll tell you at lunch.
I shoved my phone in my pocket and forced my legs to move. I was late for class. For the first time ever. I, Kelin Ishida, the guy who coasted through school with bored perfection, was going to be late.
It felt oddly appropriate. The predictable rhythm of my life had been disrupted, so why shouldn't my school schedule be?
I slid into my seat at the back of the classroom just as the teacher was starting the lesson. He shot me a mildly surprised look but didn't say anything. I opened my textbook, but I wasn't seeing the words. I was seeing her face, the confused frown, the searching look in her amber eyes.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur. I answered questions on autopilot, my mind a million miles away. During the breaks between classes, I didn't see her in the crowded hallways. Part of me was relieved. Part of me was desperate to find her, to see if anything else was different.
At lunch, I found Zeke already at our usual spot on the roof, a place we'd claimed freshman year for its relative peace. He was chomping on a yakisoba bun, his orange hair a beacon against the grey, overcast sky.
"Okay, spill it," he said, swallowing a massive mouthful. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
I sat down, pulling out my own lunch. "Maybe I have," I said, my voice quiet. I explained what she'd said, word for word.
Zeke stopped chewing, his usual goofy expression replaced by wide-eyed shock. "Whoa. Seriously? She... kinda remembered?"
"No, not remembered," I corrected, shaking my head. "It was like... an echo. A feeling. Déjá vu. She brushed it off right away."
"But still!" Zeke insisted, leaning forward, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "That's never happened before, man! This is huge! This is like, a crack in the Matrix! Maybe all those days, all those memories, they're not gone! Maybe they're just... hiding!"
His optimism was a bright, warm thing, but I couldn't let myself feel it. Not yet. Hope was a dangerous drug. I'd built up a tolerance, but a dose this pure could be lethal.
"Or it was just a coincidence," I countered, my voice flat. "I was being all moody about blue gummy bears. She picked up on the vibe and made a lucky guess. That's the logical explanation."
"Logic is boring!" Zeke shot back, pointing his half-eaten bun at me. "Since when are you the logical one? You're the guy whose last seventy-eight plans involved prophetic cats and spontaneous quests. This is part of the story, Kel! It's a sign!"
I didn't have an answer for that.
The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. As we were heading back downstairs, I saw her.
She was walking down the hallway with her friend, Sora Minami. Sora, with her sharp, dark bob and even sharper eyes, was talking animatedly. Sina was listening, a small smile on her face. In her arms, tucked between her notebooks, was the bag of gummy bears I'd given her.
My heart squeezed. She'd kept them.
Sora spotted me watching them. Her eyes narrowed behind her glasses, her expression turning instantly wary. She saw me as a variable she couldn't control, a potential danger to Sina's carefully managed world. She leaned in and whispered something to Sina.
Sina turned her head and our eyes met across the crowded hallway.
For a second, I saw that same flicker from this morning. A momentary flash of something more than just recognition of the "rain boy." It was a deeper sense of... familiarity. Confusion.
Then it was gone. She gave me a small, shy smile and a little wave before Sora guided her into their classroom.
I stood there, my hand half-raised in a wave I hadn't completed.
Zeke bumped my shoulder. "See? I saw that look. That wasn't a 'hello stranger' look. That was a 'hello stranger I feel like I've known my whole life' look!"
He was exaggerating, as always. But he wasn't entirely wrong. Something was different today. The air was charged with a new, terrifying possibility.
For seventy-eight days, my goal had been simple: make her happy, just for today. A single, perfect, self-contained story, destined to be forgotten.
But now... a new goal was trying to claw its way into my heart. A treacherous, stupid, impossible goal.
What if I could do more? What if I could help her build a bridge not just to tomorrow, but to yesterday?
What if she could, somehow, learn to remember me?
The thought was so immense, so terrifyingly hopeful, that it made my hands tremble.