The next morning felt different.
The sky was still cloudy, but the air was softer — like the world had taken a slow breath overnight.
I walked through the school gate, half-expecting Rian to just… vanish again.
But there he was — sitting on the low wall near the old fountain, quietly sketching something in his notebook.
He looked up and smiled like he'd been waiting.
"Morning, Siena."
Just like that, my heartbeat went off script again.
"Morning," I managed to say, though it sounded more like a question.
In the classroom 💭
"Okay, so explain it again," Riya said, blocking my view of the board. "He was your childhood friend?"
"I think so."
Trent leaned in. "You think?"
"I remembered parts of it," I said, keeping my voice low. "We used to know each other. Then something happened… and I forgot."
Riya frowned. "Forgot? Like forgot-forgot? Not text-back-forgot?"
"Yeah," I said softly. "Like my brain hit delete."
Trent whistled. "That's next-level heartbreak right there."
Riya elbowed him. "You hush. This is serious."
I smiled faintly. "It's fine. I'm just trying to make sense of it."
But it wasn't fine.
Because every time Rian looked at me, I felt like I was remembering something and forgetting it all over again.
Lunch Break ☀️🍱
We sat on the school steps, eating noodles and trading gossip like always.
Mirai was mid-rant about math homework when Riya suddenly nudged me.
"There," she whispered. "He's watching you."
I followed her gaze — Rian was sitting under the tree, sketching again.
When our eyes met, he raised his pencil slightly in greeting.
Riya squealed quietly. "That was a look."
"Stop it," I said, cheeks burning.
Trent laughed. "Someone's blushing harder than the sky in April."
"Trent!"
"Hey, don't blame me for being observant!"
The group erupted in laughter, but my heart stayed tangled somewhere between curiosity and something I wasn't ready to name.
After Class — The Courtyard 🌧️
He found me before I could find him.
"You're remembering more, aren't you?" he asked softly.
I hesitated. "Bits and pieces. But not everything."
He nodded, like he'd expected that.
"Maybe that's okay," he said. "Maybe remembering slowly hurts less."
I looked up at him. "You talk like you've done this before."
A small smile. "Maybe I have."
The wind picked up, carrying the scent of rain and chalk dust — the smell of everything familiar and strange at once.
"Rian," I said finally, "why did we make that promise?"
He looked toward the sky, eyes distant.
"Because back then, you said forgetting me would be impossible."
And then, almost in a whisper:
"But I guess some promises were meant to be broken first… so they could be remembered later."
He walked away, leaving me standing there — heart racing, thoughts a mess, rain about to fall again.
And for the first time, I wasn't scared of remembering.
I was scared of what would happen when I finally did. 🌧️