Some things don't change.
Like the number of steps from the school gate to my classroom 114.
Or the fact that Shinbou Ryusei… still doesn't look at me.
---
He walked in exactly five minutes before class.
Sat next to me without a word.
Didn't glance in my direction.
Didn't smile. Didn't flinch.
Like I was made of air.
But then again… air can be heavy too.
---
Hinata poked my shoulder during math.
She passed me a note:
He's too quiet. Creepy quiet. I think he might be a robot.
I wrote back:
Robots don't get headaches.
She raised an eyebrow and scribbled:
So you noticed that too?
I paused.
Of course I noticed.
It had happened again subtle, like a ripple on a still lake. His fingers had pressed lightly against his temple during the teacher's lecture. His face changed for half a second.
Almost like something inside him shifted.
But when I blinked, it was gone.
Expression normal. Back straight. Completely composed.
Like nothing had happened.
---
During break, I stayed behind. Maybe to "accidentally" bump into him. Maybe to just exist in the same quiet.
He stood by the window, staring at the sky.
Not at the clouds. Not at the sun.
Just the space between things.
That's what it looked like.
Like he was trying to see something invisible.
I stepped toward him, unsure why.
He didn't move. Didn't notice.
And then, softly, he whispered:
"Do you ever feel like you're missing something… but you don't know what it is?"
I froze.
My breath caught.
He still wasn't looking at me.
I swallowed. "Like… a memory?"
He didn't answer.
The silence stretched between us, long and strange and delicate like walking on glass.
Then he turned to me and blinked.
"What did you say?"
I blinked back. "You just asked"
"No, I didn't."
His voice was steady. Too steady.
I opened my mouth, then closed it again.
He walked past me, as if I hadn't been standing there at all.
---
Later, Hinata caught up with me in the hallway.
I told her what happened. Every word.
She was quiet for a second. Then she said, "Okay, plot twist: what if he does remember, but he's pretending not to?"
I stared at her. "Why would he do that?"
Hinata shrugged. "Maybe he's scared. Maybe he doesn't want to remember. Or maybe... you're the thing he's trying to forget."
That stung more than I wanted to admit.
---
At home that night, I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling fan, spinning and spinning like my thoughts.
He didn't remember me.
He said nothing.
But something inside him was moving. Changing. Shifting.
I didn't know if it was pain, confusion… or the start of something waking up.
And the scariest part?
I wasn't even sure anymore if I wanted him to remember.