The next day, Ili, Daiki, and Haru gathered in one of the cozy study lounges on campus, a space half-hidden behind the library's main floor. The soft, warm lighting illuminated the scattered books and papers on the low table in front of them. Someone had brought a bag of chips and a pack of sodas, and the faint strumming of a guitar filled the background as one of the girls, Rina, plucked out a tune.
"Okay, break time," Haru declared, flopping backward onto the rug with a dramatic sigh. "If I have to look at another formula, my brain's going to stage of rebellion."
"A rebellion requires a captain," Daiki quipped, barely looking up from his notes. "You're not exactly leadership material."
"Oh, please," Ili shot back, sitting up to glare at Daiki. "I'm the reason this group even functions. Without me, you'd all be lost."
"Sure," Haru drawled, leaning against the couch with a smirk. "Lost in productivity."
The room erupted in laughter. Ili leaned back in his chair, letting the noise wash over him like a tide, but his mind wandered, slipping past the present moment.
"You're doing it again," Haru said, breaking through Ili's thoughts. His tone was light, but his eyes held a flicker of something more—concern, maybe. "Spacing out like you're in some dramatic music video."
"I'm fine," Ili replied quickly, straightening in his seat. He reached for a soda, popping the tab with more force than necessary. "Just tired."
"Tired," Daiki repeated, his tone skeptical. "You've been tired all week, man. You're not usually this quiet. What's going on?"
Haru tossed a chip into his mouth, watching Ili with an overly dramatic squint. "It's a girl, isn't it? Don't tell me you've fallen for some mysterious beauty who refuses to notice your existence."
"It's not like that," Ili muttered, though his cheeks warmed. "I just… keep seeing someone around campus. She seems familiar, that's all."
Rina paused her strumming, looking over with mild interest. "Familiar how? Like someone from your past?"
Ili hesitated, the words caught in his throat. "I don't know. It's hard to explain. It's like I should know her, but I don't."
"Sounds like a crush," Haru teased, earning a laugh from Haru.
"Or déjà vu," Daiki said, his tone oddly casual, though he avoided Ili's gaze. He flipped through his notes with deliberate precision, but the way his fingers tapped the page betrayed a nervous energy.
Ili caught the subtle shift in Daiki's demeanor, a tension that didn't match the lighthearted banter of the group. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice quieter now, curious.
"Nothing." Daiki shrugged, the moment passing as quickly as it had arrived. "You're overthinking it. Happens to the best of us."
Before Ili could press further, Mika entered the room with a tray of drinks, her presence bright and cheerful as she handed them out. "Don't mind me," she said, smiling. "I just came to save you from yourselves. You've all been here too long."
"Finally, someone who understands me," Haru said, grabbing a drink with exaggerated gratitude. "You're my hero, Mika."
"Careful," Mika shot back, her grin teasing. "Flattery will only get you so far."
As the group descended into playful chaos, Ili found himself watching Daiki and Haru. Their exchange earlier nagged at him, small and insignificant though it seemed. There was something in the way they glanced at each other, an unspoken understanding that Ili wasn't a part of. It felt like a fragment of a larger picture he couldn't see.
Ili leaned back in his chair, a small smile tugging at his lips as Daiki recounted his latest misadventure during practice. His friends' banter was a welcome distraction, even if his thoughts occasionally drifted back to the girl with the golden hair.
As the conversation shifted, Ili pushed his chair back. "I'll be right back," he said, standing and grabbing his bag. "Bathroom break."
"Don't get lost on the way back," Haru teased, earning a chuckle from the group.
Ili rolled his eyes and walked off toward the far end of the cafeteria, leaving the table behind. The air seemed to change the moment he was out of earshot. Haru leaned forward, his playful demeanor dropping slightly.
"Do you think he remembers anything?" Haru asked in a low voice, his gaze shifting to Daiki.
Daiki crossed his arms, his easygoing smile fading into something more serious. "Not yet. At least, I don't think so. He hasn't said anything that hints at it."
Rina didn't respond immediately, her gaze fixed on the edge of the table. After a pause, she murmured, "Adjusting? Maybe. But if he's starting to remember…"
Haru's brow furrowed, cutting her off before she could continue. "He's not, okay? It's just déjà vu or whatever. He doesn't know anything for sure."
Daiki leaned back, arms crossed, his voice unusually serious. "But if he does start to figure it out…?" He trailed off, his eyes flicking toward Mika and Rina. "You know what happened last time."
Mika, who had been quietly stirring her coffee, glanced up. Her expression was calm, but there was a faint tension in her posture. "She's noticed him, though," she murmured. "I saw her watching him yesterday by the library."
Rina nodded, leaning in closer. "She's keeping her distance, but it's only a matter of time. He'll figure it out eventually."
Haru sighed, running a hand through his hair. "That's what worries me. What happens when he does? This isn't something you just… brush off."
Daiki's jaw tightened. "He's stronger than you think. If anyone can handle it, it's Ili."
Mika's lips pressed into a thin line. "Maybe. But this isn't just about him. She—" She stopped abruptly, her gaze flickering toward the direction Ili had gone.
Rina shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "She won't. Not yet. It's too dangerous."
"Dangerous?" Daiki asked, leaning closer, his tone hushed but insistent. "You really think she can stop it if he—"
"Enough," Haru interjected sharply, his eyes darting toward the restroom. "Don't say anything more. He's coming back."
Rina hesitated, lowering her voice even further. "Do you think she'll—"
The sound of footsteps cut her off. Ili returned, sliding back into his seat with a curious look. "What'd I miss?" he asked, glancing around the table.
"Nothing," Haru said quickly, a grin slipping back onto his face. "We were just talking about how you always take forever in the bathroom."
Ili raised an eyebrow, but the playful tone seemed to put him at ease. "Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that." He grabbed his tray, his attention already shifting back to their earlier conversation. "Anyway, what were you saying about the sport festival?"
As the group launched back into casual chatter, the air of tension dissolved, leaving Ili unaware of the weight of the discussion that had taken place in his absence. Mika and Rina exchanged a brief glance, a silent understanding passing between them.
The name they hadn't spoken lingered unspoken in the air, as elusive and enigmatic as the girl herself.
Friday Afternoon
Gray clouds loomed over the city, a cool breeze hinting at rain. By a ramen stand, Ili and his friends chatted, their voices blending with the hiss of the grill and hum of scooters. Neon lights flickered on the damp pavement.
"Come on, you can't seriously think they have a chance," Daiki argued, gesturing with his chopsticks. "Their defense is practically made of paper."
Ili forced a smile, nodding absentmindedly. He tried to keep up with the conversation, but his mind was elsewhere. Across the street, perched on a bench just outside a small bookstore, she sat again. The girl. Her long hair cascaded down her back, and she held a notebook on her lap, her gaze fixed on something distant. There was an elegance to her posture, an almost ethereal calm that made the world around her seem louder, more chaotic.
Ili's fingers tightened around his drink, his heart pounding. A thought crept into his mind, unbidden but persistent: Is she following me? It wasn't the first time he'd caught glimpses of her near places he visited. The bench by the café, the park path he often walked… and now here. It was too much to be coincidence, wasn't it?
"I'll be right back," he said abruptly, cutting through the noise of his friends' banter.
Daiki's smirk froze, and a subtle tension passed between him and Haru. "Seriously?" Daiki asked, his tone light but his words heavy. "You're going there again?"
"Yeah," Ili replied curtly, ignoring the glance Haru shot Daiki. He stood and pushed his chair back.
"You really shouldn't…" Haru began but trailed off, his words half-hearted. "Whatever, man. Just don't say we didn't warn you."
Daiki sighed, shaking his head. "Good luck, Romeo," he said flatly, though the teasing tone was gone.
Ili ignored their looks and made his way through the crowd. Each step felt heavier, like he was walking into something inevitable, his pulse quickening with anxiety and a strange determination. The scent of rain mingled with the aroma of street food as he crossed the street toward her.
She didn't look up at first, her fingers tracing the edges of her notebook. Her nails, perfectly manicured, tapped a subtle rhythm that matched the impatient patter of his heartbeat.
"Hey," Ili said, trying to keep his voice steady and casual, though it came out strained. "Sorry to bother you, but… do I know you from somewhere? High school, maybe?"
Her head lifted slowly, her eyes meeting his. For a brief moment, her expression softened, a flicker of something that looked like recognition.
But then it was gone, replaced by a distant, almost uninterested look. Her lips curved into a polite but cool smile, like that of someone accustomed to hiding her true feelings.
"I don't think so," she replied, her voice smooth and detached, almost too composed. Her eyes, a striking shade of brown, studied him with a detached curiosity, as if he were a stranger at an exclusive party she'd accidentally let inside. "I'm sorry, but I don't remember you."
Ili's heart sank, the disappointment stinging sharper than he'd expected. His mouth went dry, and he shifted awkwardly. "Oh. Right, my mistake," he mumbled, feeling foolish and out of place. "Sorry for interrupting."
She gave a small, almost imperceptible sigh and looked back down at her notebook, but her fingers tightened around it, the knuckles turning pale. "It's alright," she said softly, her voice almost too quiet to hear over the city's noise. "Have a good day."
But something about the way she said it—like she was holding back something painful—made him hesitate. He studied her for a moment longer, confused and oddly hurt by her dismissal. The weight of her gaze, even when she wasn't looking at him, lingered in the air.
"You sure we haven't met before?" he pressed, a desperate edge creeping into his voice. His hand instinctively went to his pocket, where the cool metal of the wisteria pendant brushed against his fingers. He hesitated, then pulled it out, holding it between them. "This pendant," he said, his voice faltering. "It's been with me as long as I can remember. The words—'Promise we'll find our way back to each other'—I don't know why, but I feel like it's connected to you."
Her reaction was immediate, though fleeting. Her shoulders tensed ever so slightly, and her gaze flicked to the pendant, her composure breaking for the briefest moment. She quickly looked away, her knuckles tightening on the notebook.
"Even if it were," she said, her voice wavering, "it wouldn't matter now." Her eyes met his again, and for just a second, they shone with something fragile, like glass on the verge of shattering. "Some things are best left forgotten."
A chill ran down Ili's spine, and he opened his mouth to say something—anything—but no words came out. The feeling that he was missing something important gnawed at him, a puzzle piece he couldn't place.
The silence stretched between them until she finally spoke, her voice tinged with something he couldn't quite define. "You should go back to your friends," she said, her eyes flickering toward the ramen stand across the street. "They're waiting for you."
He hesitated, the urge to stay and press her for answers warring with the embarrassment prickling at his neck. "Yeah," he said finally, his voice low. "Take care."
As he turned and began walking away, he heard her whisper, so soft that it might have been carried by the wind. "I wonder if it'll be different this time."
He froze, his breath catching in his throat. Slowly, he turned around, but she was already gathering her things, slipping into the crowd that had thickened as the rain began to fall in earnest. His pulse hammered, her words echoing in his mind.
"I wonder if it'll be different this time."
Why did she say that? Why did it feel like a trigger word or something?
"Wait… wait a minute," he muttered, his voice trembling as he staggered toward the nearest wall, gripping it for support. His thoughts swirled into chaos, fragmented memories and unexplainable feelings crashing together like a relentless storm. "Did this happen before? But when? A few weeks ago? No… no, longer than that… Or was it just… déjà vu?"
The drizzle thickened, droplets streaking his face, mingling with the sweat beading on his forehead. His hand clenched into a fist, shaking as the frustration built to a breaking point. "Why can't I remember?!" he shouted, his voice breaking against the relentless patter of rain.
He struck the wall—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to feel the release, the dull ache grounding him against the rising tide of panic. The rain soaked through his hair and clothes, chilling him to the bone, but he didn't care. He pressed his forehead against the cold surface of the wall, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps.
"Aagh, I don't know anymore…" he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible against the sound of the downpour. His chest heaved as the weight of his confusion pressed down, suffocating, unbearable. The wooden charm in his pocket seemed to burn against his thigh, a cruel reminder of something just out of reach.
The rain poured harder, drenching the city and muffling the world around him. Ili closed his eyes, his fists trembling at his sides, as if trying to will his mind to make sense of it all. But the harder he reached for the truth, the more it slipped through his fingers, leaving him standing alone in the storm, haunted by a memory he couldn't quite touch.
The distant rumble of thunder brought him back to reality, but his feet remained rooted to the spot. He felt a chill creep up his spine, and it wasn't just the cold rain soaking into his clothes. Something about her voice, the way she said it—it wasn't just familiar. It was personal, like a fragment of a forgotten dream.
He tried to shake the thought, but it clung to him, heavy and persistent, like the raindrops on his skin.
Inside the Ramen Stand - Moments Earlier
The group huddled closer as the rain outside intensified, their hushed voices mirroring the storm brewing outside. Daiki's fingers tapped a restless rhythm on the table, the usual casual beat now tinged with unease.
"This is getting too risky," Haru muttered, leaning forward with a frown. "We can't let him get too close."
Rina's arms tightened across her chest, her gaze fixed on the swirling steam of her coffee. "And what exactly are we supposed to do about it, Haru? Pretend nothing's happening? We can't control every move he makes."
"That's not the point," Haru snapped, his voice low but firm. "He's circling something, whether he realizes it or not. If he gets too close to…" He paused, glancing at the others before lowering his voice even further. "…everything, we're all going to regret it."
"Stop it," Mika said sharply, setting her coffee down with a quiet clink. Her calm tone carried an edge that silenced the others. "We're here to look out for him, not play puppet masters. He deserves at least that much."
"And what about her?" Haru's gaze flicked toward the rain-streaked window, his scowl deepening. "You saw her yesterday. She's still following him."
"She's not doing anything wrong," Rina replied, leaning forward. Her voice was soft but carried a weight of certainty. "She's keeping her distance. She knows what's at stake."
Daiki frowned, shaking his head. "Keeping her distance doesn't change the fact that she's involved. We can't just ignore it."
Mika shot him a glance, her voice firm but measured. "She's doing what she thinks is right. You know as well as I do that this isn't easy for her."
"Easy or not, it's reckless." Haru's tone grew harsher, frustration breaking through his usually composed demeanor. "We've seen this before. If he gets too close, there's no stopping what comes next. None of us will."
The tension thickened as the group exchanged uneasy glances. For a moment, the sound of the rain seemed louder than their whispered conversation.
Rina leaned closer, her voice barely audible. "He has no idea, does he?"
Mika glanced toward the entrance, catching movement beyond the fogged glass. "He's coming back."
The group straightened in unison, their tension masked by practiced ease. As Ili pushed the door open, rainwater dripping from his jacket, their expressions melted into casual smiles. His gaze was distant, his steps hesitant, but they said nothing to betray their unease.
"You're soaked," Daiki said with a grin, his tone light and teasing. "What'd you do, take a swim out there?"
Ili shook his head, hiding his fist behind his back, offering a faint laugh. "Yeah, something like that."
As he slid into his seat, the others quickly steered the conversation back to trivialities, their banter filling the air. But beneath the surface, the unspoken weight of their earlier discussion lingered, and an unspoken name hung like a ghost between them.