The alarm rang.
6:30 a.m.
Ren opened his eyes—and didn't move.
He waited for the familiar blankness.
The soft mental wipe.
The feeling of being new again.
It didn't come.
Instead—
A name echoed in his mind.
Abinaya.
Not a voice.
Not a memory.
A constant.
Ren sat up sharply.
The red symbol on his wrist pulsed once, like a heartbeat.
"Error Archive" — Persistent State Detected
Foreign Data Anchor: STABLE
"…You did it," Ren whispered.
Downstairs, his mother was still humming. The world still pretended nothing had ever gone wrong.
But Ren knew better now.
He dressed quickly and left early.
School.
Same hallway.
Same smell.
Same cameras.
And—
There she was.
Sitting at the desk in front of his.
Black hair, loosely tied. Pen spinning lazily between her fingers.
Abinaya.
But this time—
She paused mid-spin.
Her brow furrowed.
"…Why do I feel like I'm late," she murmured.
Ren's breath caught.
She didn't remember him.
But she remembered something.
Ren leaned forward.
"Morning," he said casually.
Abinaya turned.
Their eyes met.
Her pupils dilated.
The pen dropped from her fingers and clattered to the floor.
"You," she said slowly.
Ren smiled.
"Me."
Her head tilted slightly, as if listening to a voice no one else could hear.
"That's strange," she whispered.
"You're… loud."
Ren stiffened.
"Loud?"
"In a quiet way," she clarified.
"Like the world keeps tripping over you."
Before Ren could respond—
[SYSTEM NOTICE]
Minor deviation detected.
Monitoring increased.
Abinaya winced.
She pressed two fingers to her temple.
"…Ah. I hate that feeling."
Ren leaned closer.
"Abinaya," he said softly.
Her head snapped up.
"…How do you know my name?"
Got you.
"You told me," Ren replied.
"Tomorrow."
Her lips parted.
For a second, her eyes glowed—not empty, not golden—
But clear.
[LIMINAL WITNESS — PARTIAL RESTORATION]
Memory bleed detected.
Abinaya exhaled sharply.
"I knew it," she muttered.
"I'm not supposed to be here normally, am I?"
"No," Ren said honestly.
"But you stayed anyway."
She laughed—short, incredulous.
"That sounds like something I'd do."
The bell rang.
Reality snapped back into place.
Abinaya leaned back in her chair, masking the moment like a dream slipping away.
But when class started—
She passed Ren a note.
If you're an error,
then I'm the proof you're right.
Ren folded the paper carefully.
For the first time across eight timelines—
He wasn't alone.