[𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑: 𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐭]
Takumi couldn't stop thinking about the conversation he had with Yuri during lunch. It gnawed at him throughout the rest of the day, like a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit anywhere. She'd said they'd met when they were kids, but why didn't he remember her?
He was sure that if they had met back then, he would've remembered it. After all, he didn't forget things easily, especially faces.
But the more he tried to piece it together, the more he came up blank.
The next morning, Yuri was her usual self. She greeted him with a smile, sat down next to him in class, and offered to help him with the morning's homework again. Takumi nodded absentmindedly as he stared out the window, still caught up in his thoughts.
He didn't bring up the childhood memory. Yuri didn't either. But the unspoken tension lingered, and it felt like a quiet storm was building just beneath the surface.
After school, Takumi found himself walking in the same direction as Yuri. He was just about to turn the corner when he heard her voice.
"Tachibana-kun," she called, her voice hesitant but clear.
He turned around, raising an eyebrow. "What's up?"
Yuri was standing a few paces behind him, her hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket. Her expression was unreadable, but there was something different about the way she was looking at him.
"I've been thinking," she began, her tone carefully measured. "About what I said yesterday. And... I wanted to apologize if it made you uncomfortable."
Takumi's frown deepened. "It's not that, I just..." He trailed off, not sure how to express the confusion swirling inside him. "I don't get it. Why don't I remember? We must've met, right?"
Yuri's gaze flickered for a moment, and then she sighed softly. "We did. But, you see, it was a long time ago. You probably wouldn't remember."
Takumi squinted. "How do you know that?"
She hesitated again, before taking a step closer. "Because... I remember you."
Takumi's heart skipped a beat at her words. There was something in her eyes then—something that spoke volumes without saying anything. He could tell there was a deeper story, one that she wasn't quite ready to share.
"I'm sorry," she continued, almost too quietly. "I shouldn't have brought it up. It's a silly thing to be nostalgic about."
Takumi couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't as simple as she was making it out to be. There was more to the story. There had to be.
"Yuri, wait," he said, his tone more serious now. "I don't get it. If we met when we were kids... why didn't you tell me about it sooner? I mean, you've been acting like we were just classmates from the start. Why didn't you say something back then?"
Yuri took a slow breath, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. "Because I knew you wouldn't remember me. And... maybe I didn't want you to."
Takumi stared at her, the confusion only deepening. "What do you mean?"
Yuri's lips pressed together, and she looked away for a moment, as if searching for the right words. When she spoke again, her voice was barely above a whisper. "I didn't want to make things complicated. It's easier this way, pretending we're just strangers, even though we're not."
Takumi opened his mouth to say something, but his words caught in his throat. There was so much unsaid in her response, and he could feel it—a quiet sorrow behind her calm exterior.
Before he could respond, Yuri turned and began to walk away. She threw one last glance over her shoulder.
"Just forget about it, Tachibana-kun. It's nothing important."
Takumi watched her leave, a strange feeling in his chest that he couldn't quite place. Something was definitely off. But Yuri had made it clear she didn't want him to pry any further.
He stood there for a moment, contemplating her words. The past. A memory she clearly cherished, but one that was now a closed chapter in her life.
But what if it wasn't just her past? What if it was something that could change everything between them?