Day 81.
It was raining again.Not hard. Just steady.
Ren offered to walk me home.I said yes.
We shared one umbrella, close enough to feel his sleeve brush against mine.
I didn't know why,but walking beside him felt like something I'd always done.
As if our footsteps already knew the rhythm of each other.
Halfway home, I stopped.
"Wait," I said. "This street..."
I looked around.
"Have I been here before?"
Ren hesitated.Then said, "Yes. A lot, actually."
I nodded slowly, trying to reach for a memory that wasn't there.
All I found was fog.
I'm walking roads my mind doesn't recognize.But my heart… doesn't feel lost.
That night, I couldn't sleep.Again.
I walked around the house, restless.Ended up in the living room, where Ren had left his bag on the couch earlier.
It was slightly open.A notebook inside, almost identical to mine.
I know I shouldn't have looked.But something pulled me.
Something more than curiosity.Something like fear.
I opened it.
And read.
"Day 100 – She doesn't know yet.""Day 97 – She forgot her umbrella. I brought mine. She smiled like the world wasn't ending.""Day 94 – She asked if memories make a person. I wanted to say 'you do.'""Day 86 – She forgot me.""Day 85 – I fell in love with her again."
I stopped breathing.
Each entry was her.
Each sentence… a memory I didn't remember,but someone else had carried for me.
I returned the notebook silently.
Went back to my room.Stared at my ceiling for hours.
My hands trembled.
And then—
I started crying.
Not because I was afraid of forgetting.
But because someone had chosen to remember meeven when I couldn't remember myself.
Day 80.
I met Ren on the rooftop.
I didn't tell him I read the notebook.
But when he smiled,I smiled back.
And this time,it wasn't out of politeness.
It was something deeper.
A feeling I couldn't namebut knew I had felt before.
That night, I wrote in my own notebook:
"Day 80.I don't remember everything.But I remember this feeling.The kind that doesn't need names."
"I think I'm falling for him again."