The sun rose like any other morning, but to Abe… it was meaningless.
His hair, once black and unkempt, had turned a pale, almost silver white—like a ghost stripped of time. His eyes? Empty. As if something inside him had snapped and hadn't returned.
"Abe."
He heard his name, but he didn't recognize it anymore. It felt like it belonged to someone else.
The classroom buzzed with whispers.
"Did you see his hair?"
"He doesn't talk to anyone anymore…"
"They say he completely forgot who we are."
Abe sat by the window, staring blankly outside. Even the sky felt distant.
He no longer remembered the betrayal.
Not the blood.
Not Renji.
Not even his mother's name.
He was a clean slate.
Or so it seemed.
---
"Hey, you."
A voice pierced through the void of his thoughts. Sharp. Cold. Arrogant.
He turned.
There she stood—a girl with twin tails, icy blue eyes, and an expression that screamed don't come close. Her presence felt like a knife against the skin.
"What are you staring at?" she snapped.
He didn't answer.
"Tch. You're as pathetic as they said," she muttered, crossing her arms. "White hair doesn't make you special."
Still… silence.
She sat down beside him without asking. Everyone in the class froze. No one dared approach Abe since his breakdown—except her.
"I lost my father, you know," she began bitterly. "He was the only one who ever believed in me. And he died right in front of me. I still hear his voice every night in my nightmares."
Abe blinked. No response.
She scoffed.
"Don't act like your pain is deeper than mine. You probably just had a bad breakup or something," she said, forcing a cruel laugh.
But suddenly—
Abe turned to her. Slowly.
His pale eyes locked onto hers.
"…What's your name?" he asked flatly.
She flinched. "H-Hikari."
There was no warmth in his voice. No emotion.
"…My name is Abe," he said. "But they say I used to be someone else."
Hikari raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," he said, his voice low and mechanical, "I'm a graveyard. And every memory I lost… is another corpse buried in me."
That shut her up.
A moment of heavy silence.
"…I didn't mean to compare—" she began.
"Too late," Abe replied coldly. "But I don't blame you. Pain makes people selfish."
She stared at him. Not sure if she was angry or… impressed.
And then Abe stood up.
"I need to find who I used to be," he murmured, walking toward the door. "Even if I have to dig through blood and lies to find his grave."
Hikari watched him go, something in her heart shifting.
Maybe they were both broken.
But Abe's pieces… were sharper.