Aarohi didn't sleep.
Not even for a minute.
She sat in her room with the lights off, blanket wrapped around her shoulders, knees pulled to her chest — staring at the corner where the shadow had stood.
Arin stayed awake with her.
Every hour or so, he would say:
"Aarohi… talk to me."
"Aarohi… breathe with me."
"Aarohi, don't drift away."
But her mind wasn't in the room.
It was somewhere between this life and the last.
Thunder rumbled softly outside, far away but heavy enough to vibrate the window.
Aarohi whispered:
"Rain scares me now."
Arin's head snapped toward her.
"Why?"
She swallowed.
"Because it brings him closer."
Arin clenched his jaw.
"Aarohi… he's dead. He's not—"
"He's not dead in my memories," she whispered.
"He's alive there. Waiting for me. Calling me."
Arin looked away sharply, pain flashing in his eyes.
"I hate this," he whispered.
"I hate that something from your past has this much power over you."
Aarohi reached out, touching his hand.
"I don't want this either."
Arin squeezed her fingers gently.
"Then let me help."
"That's the problem," she whispered.
"You're helping… but I'm still breaking."
Arin rested his forehead against her hand.
"And I'll keep helping… even if it breaks me too."
Aarohi's eyes softened painfully.
She didn't deserve him.
She didn't deserve any of this safety, love, or family.
Not when her past was crawling back to haunt everyone.
---
Around 3:17 AM, Aarohi's breath suddenly hitched.
Arin immediately sat up, alarmed.
"Aarohi?"
She didn't respond.
Her eyes had gone unfocused — like she was staring through time.
Arin grabbed her shoulders.
"Aarohi?!"
She inhaled sharply — like someone had pulled her underwater and then let her breathe again.
"Aarohi, stay with me—"
"I saw something," she whispered.
Arin froze.
"What?"
Aarohi's fingers curled into the blanket.
"I saw… his hand."
Arin blinked.
"His hand?"
Aarohi nodded slowly, shakily.
"It was cold. Wet. Bleeding."
She swallowed hard.
"It was reaching toward me again."
Arin felt a chill crawl up his spine.
"And—" Aarohi's voice wavered.
"And this time… I remembered… more than just his hand."
Arin leaned closer.
"What else?"
Aarohi's lips trembled.
"I saw… a bracelet."
Arin's breath caught.
"A bracelet?"
Aarohi nodded again.
"A thin one. Black thread. A small silver bead. He was wearing it when he reached for me."
Arin frowned slightly.
"Does it mean something to you?"
Aarohi's eyes widened.
"Yes."
Arin's heart skipped.
"What?"
Her voice dropped to a whisper:
"I've seen that bracelet… in this life."
Arin stiffened.
"Where?"
Aarohi hugged herself tightly.
"Outside the school."
"On the street."
"In the crowd."
"Someone was wearing it."
Arin felt his blood run cold.
"No… Aarohi… that can't be—"
"I'm not imagining it," she whispered with trembling lips.
"I saw that same bracelet a week ago… before everything started."
Arin grabbed her hand.
"Aarohi—listen to me carefully—are you saying someone from your past life is alive here now?"
Aarohi shook her head weakly.
"I don't know. I don't know if the boy is alive or dead or a memory or—"
She stopped.
Her breath hitched.
Because a sudden, sharp FLASH hit her mind—
A boy running toward her.
Rain pouring heavily.
His hair plastered to his forehead.
His breath shaking.
The black-thread bracelet slipping down his wrist.
His lips forming a name—
"A—Aara—"
Aarohi gasped.
Arin grabbed her before she collapsed.
"WHAT DID YOU REMEMBER?!"
Aarohi clutched her chest.
"He said my name."
"We know that—"
"No," she whispered, voice trembling violently.
"He said… another name too."
Arin paled.
"Whose?"
Aarohi's tears spilled suddenly and uncontrollably.
She whispered:
"He called his own name."
Arin's eyes widened.
"Aarohi… what was it?"
Aarohi shook her head.
"I didn't hear it fully… it was drowned by the rain… but…"
Arin leaned forward.
"Say it."
Aarohi swallowed hard.
Her lips parted.
Her voice trembled like it would break:
"It started with… 'Ri—' "
Arin went still.
"And it felt like… like my heart already knew the rest."
Arin whispered:
"Riaan."
Aarohi's breathing stuttered.
Her eyes widened.
Her hands shook violently.
"That's the name that came to me too…" she whispered.
"But I don't know him. I don't remember him. Why would I remember a name I've never heard?"
Arin cupped her face.
"Aarohi… listen to me. Riaan could've been anyone. A stranger. A classmate. Someone you passed on the street—"
"But why would he die with me?" Aarohi interrupted, voice breaking.
Arin had no answer.
Aarohi whispered:
"I'm scared, Arin… because the moment you said his name… my heart reacted."
Arin felt his throat tighten painfully.
"Aarohi—"
"It felt like a wound opening."
"Aarohi—stop—"
"And it hurt."
Arin shook his head, pulling her into his chest.
"Aarohi, don't fall into this. Don't let his name consume you."
But Aarohi clutched his shirt, tears soaking the fabric.
"I think… I knew him."
Arin's heart shattered.
She whispered the truth neither of them wanted to hear:
"I think the boy who died with me… was named Riaan."
Arin held her as she cried, his jaw clenched in silent agony.
He whispered into her hair:
"Aarohi… please don't let him take you from this life."
Aarohi whispered back:
"I don't want to… but I can't stop remembering him."
Outside the window, the night wind shifted.
The air grew cold again.
And in the darkest corner of the room…
a soft whisper threaded through the silence:
"Aara… you finally remember me."
Aarohi's breath broke.
Arin held her tighter.
And the past tightened its grip.
---