Morning arrived with a pale, fragile light.
The kind of morning that did not feel like a new beginning,
but like a quiet continuation of unfinished thoughts.
Claire had barely slept.
Her body rested,
but her mind had wandered endlessly between memories,
faces,
fragments of a past life that refused to stay buried.
The ceiling above her looked the same as always,
yet every morning now felt heavier than the last.
Reborn.
The word echoed softly in her mind.
Not as a blessing.
But as a purpose.
She did not return to live peacefully.
She returned to remember.
To investigate.
To uncover the truth behind the death that still lingered like a shadow at the edge of her consciousness.
Diana.
Tasya.
Two faces she clearly remembered from before everything ended.
But they were not the only ones.
There had been someone else.
Someone closer.
Someone whose presence felt familiar and dangerous at the same time.
A knock broke the silence.
Soft.
Measured.
Persistent.
Claire paused mid-step outside her room.
Another knock followed.
Her chest tightened—not from fear, but from certainty.
She already knew who it was.
Downstairs, the door opened.
"Oh—Randy?"
Her mother's surprised voice confirmed it.
Claire closed her eyes briefly before walking down the stairs, her expression composed by the time she reached the living room.
Randy stood near the doorway, neat as always, but there was a subtle tension in the way he held himself—like someone who had rehearsed a conversation all night.
Their eyes met.
A quiet pause stretched between them.
"Morning," Claire said softly.
"…Morning," Randy replied.
Her mother gave a small smile. "I'll make some tea. You two can talk."
When she left, the house fell into a gentle silence.
Claire gestured toward the sofa. "You came early."
"I wanted to see you," he said honestly.
She studied his face. Tired eyes.
Controlled expression.
Unspoken thoughts lingering behind calmness.
"That call last night," Claire said gently. "I was already asleep. I didn't hear it."
Randy nodded once. "I figured."
A brief silence followed.
Then his gaze grew more serious.
"…Claire," he began, voice quiet but firm. "I need to ask you something."
She sat down across from him, hands resting calmly on her lap. "Okay."
Randy hesitated for a moment before speaking.
"Are you getting closer to Miko lately?"
The name lingered in the air. Claire blinked once, but her expression remained steady.
"Miko?" she repeated.
"Yes," Randy said. "You've been spending a lot of time with him."
Him.
The word was deliberate.
Claire exhaled softly.
"He's my friend," she answered simply.
Randy's eyes searched her face carefully. "Just a friend?"
"Yes."
No hesitation.
No defensiveness.
Only calm clarity.
Silence filled the space between them.
"He listens," Claire continued quietly. "And right now, I need someone who listens."
Randy's fingers tightened slightly on his knee. "And I don't?"
Claire looked at him, her gaze gentle but direct.
"You do," she said. "But you also protect. Decide. Arrange things before I even ask."
The words were soft, yet precise.
"I'm not blaming you," she added quickly. "I know you mean well."
Because she truly did.
Randy had never hurt her.
Never abandoned her.
Never disappeared when things became difficult. If anything, he had always stayed too close.
Too involved.
Too informed.
Too quietly present in every major turning point of her life.
And that was exactly why she could not push him away.
Not yet.
Not when he was still deeply connected to her family.
Not when he knew truths long before she remembered them herself.
Not when he remained one of the most mysterious constants in both her past and present life.
"…Miko is important to me," Claire said calmly. "But only as a friend."
Randy's gaze darkened slightly. "He likes you."
The statement was not loud.
Just certain.
Claire did not react immediately.
She already knew.
Miko's silence.
His careful attention.
The way he stayed beside her without asking for anything.
Yes.
He had feelings for her.
But she had never accepted them. And she never planned to.
"I know," Claire admitted quietly.
That answer made Randy still.
"But I didn't accept it," she continued, her voice steady. "And I won't."
Silence deepened.
Because that part was the truth.
Her heart was not focused on romance.
Not now.
Not when fragments of death and rebirth still haunted her thoughts.
Since waking up with memories of her previous life, since realizing her death was not natural,
since remembering the faces connected to that ending—
Love had become secondary.
Investigation came first.
Understanding came first.
Survival came first.
Her eyes lowered slightly.
"I don't have the luxury to think about feelings like that," she said softly.
Randy frowned faintly. "…What do you mean?"
Claire looked back at him, calm but distant in a way that felt older than her age.
"Since I woke up," she said slowly, "I've only been thinking about one thing."
Her death.
Her rebirth.
The hidden threads tying certain people together.
Diana.
Tasya.
And the unknown figure still buried in the gaps of her memory.
"I want to find the truth," she continued quietly. "About what really happened to me."
Randy's expression subtly changed.
"And to do that," Claire added inwardly, though she did not say it aloud,
I need to stay close to the people connected to my past.
Including you.
Because among everyone,
Randy remained the closest to her family,
the most informed,
and the most quietly involved in events she still didn't fully understand.
Cutting him off would be irrational.
Distancing him too much would mean losing access to answers.
So instead, she chose something else.
Continuation.
Balance.
Careful closeness.
Her voice softened.
"I'm still with you, Randy."
He froze slightly.
"I didn't break up with you," she said gently. "And I don't intend to."
The tension in his shoulders eased, just a little.
"Miko is just my friend," Claire repeated. "Nothing more."
She held his gaze steadily, making sure there was no doubt in her expression.
"He may like me," she continued calmly, "but I don't see him that way."
A small pause.
"My relationship is with you."
Those words landed quietly, but firmly.
Randy watched her face, searching for hesitation, for hidden emotion, for anything that suggested distance.
But Claire's expression remained sincere.
Composed.
Reassuring.
Carefully reassuring.
Because while Randy was worried about emotional closeness,
Claire was thinking about something far more dangerous—
The truth behind her previous death.
The people connected to it.
And the secrets still hidden around her life.
And among all of them,
Randy was still one of the closest pieces to that mystery.
So she gave him the answer he needed to hear.
Clear.
Gentle.
Final.
"Miko is just my friend, Randy."
And in that moment,
she closed the emotional distance just enough to calm him—
Not because her heart was wavering,
not because she misunderstood Miko's feelings,
but because staying in this relationship,
staying close to Randy,
was still the most strategic way
to move closer to the truth about the life she had once lost.