Day 51.
She stood in front of the mirror,staring like it was a stranger staring back.
Her hands trembled.Her lips parted slightly.
Then she asked—
"Is this me?"
I walked over.
Gently touched her shoulder.
She didn't flinch.But she didn't look at me either.
"What's my name?" she whispered.
I swallowed hard.
"Aoi.Sakuragi Aoi."
She blinked.Then looked down at her hands, as if trying to read them like a page.
"I don't feel like an Aoi."
That was the first time she didn't just forget me—she forgot herself.
No memories.No context.No anchor.
Just a quiet girlwith a name she couldn't claim.
Day 50.
She wouldn't leave her room.
I knocked.
No answer.
I waited.
Finally, the door opened.
She looked at me, eyes hollow.
"Do I like sweet things?"
I nodded.
"You love them."
She paused.
"I think I hate them now."
She tried coffee for the first time that night.
Black.
Bitter.
"It's gross," she said.
Then she laughed.
"But it tastes like me."
Day 49.
We made flashcards together.
Your name is Aoi.
You are seventeen.
You love cats.
You used to hum when you're nervous.
You once kissed me on a rainy day and laughed like it was nothing.
She flipped through them in silence.
Then turned to me and said:
"This girl sounds kind.""I hope I was really like that."
I nodded.
"You still are."
"Even if I don't remember?"
"Especially then."
That night, she sat by the window and watched the stars again.
"If I'm not me anymore…would you still stay?"
I answered without hesitation.
"Even if you become someone entirely different—I'll love her too.""Because she came from you."
In her notebook, I wrote:
"Day 49.She doesn't know her name.Or her story.But she trusts me to hold them for her."
"I will carry every version of her—until the last one disappears."