"You remember your past life?"
Alya's voice was barely a whisper, but it struck like lightning. Her eyes widened in disbelief, then quickly darted around as if afraid someone else might've heard. Her fingers gripped mine like a lifeline.
"That's… not something you just say lightly, Aiko."
She must think I'm insane, right? Of course she does. Who wouldn't?
Maybe I am insane. Maybe this whole thing, these flashes, these dreams, this gnawing sense of déjà vu, is just one long, uninterrupted psychotic break.
"…Just forget it," I muttered. "We're close to the train station anyway."
I turned to walk ahead, hoping the movement would swallow the words. Pretend it never happened. Push it back into that drawer in my mind labeled delusions I pretend not to believe.
But her hand didn't let go.
"W-Wait!" she cried out. "I believe you! I really do!"
I stopped.
"…You do?"
She nodded frantically. "There's no way you're lying to me. Not after all we've been through."
All we've been through? It's been a day. Less than that.
And yet, her hand still hadn't let go of mine. And strangely, I wasn't panicking about it. Maybe I was just… used to it already. Or maybe I wanted to be.
"Body-san, you're really letting yourself go soft after one girl's touch? I'm disappointed in you," I whispered under my breath.
She didn't hear me. Or maybe she did, because her next words hit harder than I expected.
"I… I remember too," she said, her voice trembling.
"Huh?"
"My past life… I remember it."
I stared at her.
No words.
No thoughts.
Just static.
"…Are you saying that to comfort me?" I asked finally, voice hollow. "Because if you are, I appreciate it. But you don't have to. Really."
She bit her lip.
Tears welled in her eyes.
"I do remember. Please… please believe me. We're the same."
No. We're not.
You're popular. Bright. Beautiful. Surrounded by people who want to know you. Your voice turns heads. Your smile wins crowds.
Me?
I'm just another blurry figure in the corner of a class photo.
Unremarkable. Replaceable. Forgettable.
My oversized glasses hide my eyes because one time, just once, someone said they looked scary. It stuck. Like gum under a desk. Now the bangs fall heavy and the frames sit thick. My armor. My prison.
"You... remember?" I asked quietly.
Before she could answer, I heard whispers.
"Ne, ne, did that guy just make that girl cry?"
"Yeah, what a jerk. Seriously."
We were still outside. Public. Of course they were watching. Of course the guy was the bad guy. That's how the story always goes.
Society...
Great. Now I'm quoting Joker. What's next, dancing on a staircase?
"Alya… don't cry. Look, let's sit down, alright? Somewhere quieter. We can talk it out."
But then, she laughed.
Loud. Bright. Alive.
"Okay~!" she said cheerfully, and just like that, the tears vanished. Not a trace.
…What?
She clapped her hands together. "That was just too funny! Hahaha! Did you see those guys' faces?!"
She. Faked. Crying.
I've been played like a fiddle.
S-tier actress. Damn. I didn't stand a chance.
0–2. Snow Leopard wins again.
...
We found a bench near the station. Concrete all around us, but it felt… quiet. Like we were in our own little bubble of weirdness.
Alya sat down next to me, crossing one leg over the other like she was on a magazine cover. "So," she said casually. "You really remember?"
"Yeah. I do." I didn't try to sound cool. I wasn't cool.
I stared ahead, watching the trains come and go. "But honestly, I wish I didn't."
"Why?"
"…Because remembering means knowing. And knowing means realizing that nothing's really changed. Even now."
She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"
I sighed. "It's like… dreaming of a better life only to wake up and realize you're still the same loser you were yesterday. Except now, you remember all the times you died."
Alya fell silent.
Then she slowly reached out and placed her hand over mine again.
"…I know what you mean," she said softly. "Except… for me, it was the opposite. My memories were the happiest moments of my life. Being with you…"
She trailed off.
I looked at her, eyes narrowing. "What are you saying?"
"Say…" she began, her voice quiet. "Do you remember being married? In a past life?"
I blinked.
"…Married? Me?"
She gave a soft, almost painful smile. "To someone. Maybe… me?"
I wanted to laugh. Married? Me? A guy like me?
"Sorry," I said. "I don't think so."
Her face fell.
But I couldn't let it end like that.
"…But," I added, "I've been having dreams. Weird ones. For about a week now. I'm asleep, and someone walks into the room, calls me 'honey,' wakes me up. I always forget their face by the time I open my eyes."
She perked up.
"Oh, you have those kinds of dreams too, huh?" she asked with a teasing tone. "Mine are about a tall, handsome man who always protects me. Sometimes we even kiss and cuddle in bed~"
"Mine's a guy too."
She blinked. "…What?"
"I'm gay."
Her mouth fell open.
"…Wait, seriously?"
"Dead serious."
A pause.
"…Is that why you won't come out of the closet?"
"No. That's because I'm a virgin."
She stared at me.
Then burst out laughing. "Hehe~ Liar. I know you like girls."
I smirked. "Okay, fine. I like girls. But I am more comfortable around guys."
Her smile faded, just a little. Her voice softened.
"Aiko… do you think the dreams mean something?"
"I don't know," I replied. "Even if they do, what does it change? I don't even know who that person is. They're just… gone."
"…Maybe not," she said. "Maybe they're closer than you think."
I turned to her.
There was something in her eyes. Something deep. Ancient. Familiar.
The train approached.
Louder now. Closer.
"I think I should head home," I said. My voice was flat. Defensive. I didn't know how else to respond.
Alya turned away quickly, wiping at her eyes before I could pretend not to notice.
"Right," she said. "Take care of yourself, Aiko. And… I'll help you remember. No matter what."
I nodded, silent.
The train doors opened. I stepped inside.
Through the window, I saw her watching me. Her figure grew smaller, swallowed by the city.
The ride home was a blur. I put on my headphones and leaned against the cold metal pole by the door, letting the rhythm of the tracks fill the silence.
But then-
I felt it again.
That feeling of being watched.
I scanned the car.
Phones. Sleepy faces. Office workers. A couple of students in the back.
And then, I saw her.
Sitting near the corner.
Hair dark as ink, almost purple under the light. Elegant. Still. Her face looked like it belonged in a painting. And her eyes-
They were staring at me.
Not with malice.
But something… softer.
Recognition?
…No. That couldn't be right.
For a split second, I swear I saw something twitch above her head. Cat ears?
No. No no no. That's not real. Right?
Our eyes met.
I looked away immediately. Probably just a random girl. Don't get carried away.
The train pulled into my stop.
I stepped out.
Started walking home.
And then- I felt it again.
A presence behind me.
Footsteps.
I turned the nearest corner, away from my usual route.
She followed.
Another turn. Another alley. She was still behind me.
Was she… following me?
For five full minutes, I weaved through random streets.
Every time I glanced back- there she was.
Eventually, I stopped.
Took a deep breath.
And waited at the next corner.
The moment she turned it- I moved.
Grabbed her arm. Pinned her to the wall. One arm behind her back, the other pressed lightly to her neck.
Not hurting. Just holding.
Her breath caught.
"…So," I growled, voice low. "Why are you following me?"
She looked at me, shocked.
Eyes wide. Sparkling.
And for the second time that day- I felt the ground shift beneath me.
Her voice trembled with something deeper than fear.
"…Aiko?" she whispered. "Is… is that really you?"
I stared at her.
Her face. Her voice.
My heart slowed.
"…Excuse me, miss," I said cautiously. "But who exactly are you?"
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Thanks for reading.