Tom sat frozen.
His mind refused to process everything that had just happened.
The old woman...
Had planned her own death.
He slowly crawled backwards, staring at the endless mountain of papers scattered across the room.
Every single one carried the exact same sentence.
"Remember what happened 80 years ago."
He picked one up.
Then another.
Then another.
Every page...
The same words.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Tom swallowed.
"What..."
"...actually happened here?"
Just as he was about to begin reading...
A loud cheer erupted from outside.
Music.
Fireworks.
Children laughing.
People shouting with joy.
Tom walked toward the window.
The entire town had transformed overnight.
Colorful decorations hung across every street.
Food stalls lined the roads.
Families walked together.
Children chased each other around the fountains.
Couples laughed.
Musicians played traditional songs.
Today...
Was the anniversary of Chinatown.
Its 81st Anniversary.
Tom quietly stepped outside.
He wanted to continue reading the papers.
But before he could leave...
A cheerful voice called out behind him.
"Hey!"
"Why are you going back inside?"
Tom turned around.
A girl stood there.
About his age.
Tall.
Long brown hair flowing gently in the wind.
Bright blue eyes.
And a smile so warm...
It almost didn't seem real.
She laughed.
"Come on."
"It's a day to celebrate."
"Why don't you enjoy it with us?"
Tom just stared.
For a few seconds...
His brain completely stopped working.
She tilted her head.
"Hello?"
"Are you listening?"
Tom blinked.
"Huh?"
The girl giggled.
Then simply grabbed his hand.
"Come on."
Before Tom even realized it...
He was already following her through the crowded streets.
After walking for a while...
She suddenly stopped.
Turned toward him.
And smiled.
"So..."
"What's your name?"
Tom opened his mouth.
"Uhhhhhhhh..."
His mind had gone completely blank.
"I..."
"I actually don't know..."
The girl burst into laughter.
"What?"
Tom scratched the back of his head.
"No!"
"I mean..."
"My name's Tom."
She smiled again.
"I'm Dasha."
"And today..."
"...is my seventeenth birthday."
Tom's eyes widened.
"Really?"
She nodded.
"Happy Birthday."
A faint blush appeared on her face.
"Thank you."
The two spent the rest of the day together.
Well...
It was mostly Dasha dragging Tom from one activity to another.
Games.
Food.
Music.
Dancing.
Even silly competitions.
Tom had never seen someone smile so much.
Eventually...
He learned more about her.
Dasha was an orphan.
Her parents had died in an accident years ago.
Every birthday...
She invited strangers to celebrate with her.
Hoping...
Maybe one of them would become a real friend.
But in Chinatown...
Many people believed orphans brought bad luck.
Most accepted the free food...
Then quietly left.
She wasn't poor.
She worked as a cashier at a restaurant and lived a simple middle-class life.
Still...
Loneliness followed her everywhere.
As evening arrived...
Everyone gathered around the birthday cake.
Dasha smiled brightly.
But Tom noticed something.
No one...
Had brought her a present.
After the cake was cut...
Most of the guests quietly slipped away.
They returned to the city's grand anniversary celebration.
Within minutes...
Only Dasha remained.
She looked around.
Then forced herself to smile.
"Well..."
"This year's party was better."
"Ten people came."
"I think I'm improving every year."
Tom looked at her.
Then quietly disappeared.
A few minutes later...
He returned.
Holding a small wrapped box.
Dasha looked surprised.
"For me?"
Tom nodded awkwardly.
"I've never really had any girl friends before..."
"So..."
"I didn't know what to buy."
"But..."
"I thought..."
"A cute gift..."
"...for an even cuter girl."
Dasha slowly opened it.
Inside...
Was a small doll.
For a few seconds...
She simply stared.
Then...
Without warning...
Tears streamed down her face.
She hugged Tom as tightly as she could.
"Thank you..."
"Thank you so much..."
Then...
She gently kissed him on the cheek.
Tom froze.
His entire body stopped responding.
A few moments later...
Dasha completely passed out from drinking too much.
Tom laughed quietly.
He carefully carried her to her bed.
Covered her with a blanket.
Took off her heels.
Placed a small bucket beside the bed...
Just in case she felt sick during the night.
Before leaving...
He quietly cleaned the entire house.
Without anyone asking him to.
He smiled to himself.
For some reason...
His heart felt unusually warm.
After locking the front gate...
He began walking home.
He couldn't stop smiling.
He even found himself dancing down the empty streets.
Then...
He suddenly stopped.
"The exit..."
"I went the wrong way."
Turning around...
He started heading back.
That's when something crossed his mind.
"Eighty-one..."
He frowned.
"The old lady..."
"She was one hundred and five."
"She kept saying..."
'Remember what happened eighty years ago.'
Tom's footsteps became faster.
Then he remembered something else.
The note.
There had been writing on the back.
He sprinted toward the old house.
Burst through the door.
Picked up the paper.
And turned it over.
His eyes widened.
Written on the back...
Were the words—
"Tomorrow..."
"...it will be eighty years."
Tom quickly grabbed the other papers.
One after another.
He noticed something strange.
The number 80 hadn't always been there.
Beneath it...
Faint pencil marks remained.
All the way...
Down to 1.
Someone...
Had rewritten that same message...
Every single year.
For eighty years.
Tom slowly lowered the paper.
His heartbeat grew louder.
This wasn't the work of a grieving old woman.
This...
Was an reminder.