One evening As Kaori and Arima sat together in the art room, she shared a memory from her childhood—a faint, almost dream-like recollection of a boy she'd met at school when she was very young.
"He was quiet, like you,"
she murmured, her eyes distant.
"But there was something about him… something that stayed with me. I've never forgotten him."
Arima felt a strange pang at her words, a mix of jealousy and curiosity.
"Do you remember his name?"
She shook her head.
"No. But it's funny, isn't it? How some people come into our lives, and we remember them, even if we don't know why."
They sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Little did Arima know that Kaori's story would come to resonate with him more deeply than he could ever imagine.