Chapter 9: Fragments of Us
It rained the next night.
Not a soft drizzle — not the kind that whispered.
It poured. The sky broke open like it couldn't hold its weight anymore.
And neither could I.
I waited by the window, my fingers tapping the glass in nervous rhythm, watching the streetlamp blur in the distance.
I wasn't sure she'd come.
But part of me hoped she would.
Even if she didn't remember.
Even if she walked past me again like I was no one.
Just seeing her would've been enough.
---
By the time I stepped outside, the rain soaked me through in seconds.
But I didn't care.
I walked the same path I always did — past the houses, the broken sidewalk, the bakery that always left its backlight on.
And when I got to the corner…
She was there.
Sitting under the streetlamp like always.
Hood up. Knees hugged to her chest.
She was trembling.
I crossed the street slowly, heart heavy.
"You came," I said.
She looked up.
Her eyes met mine — blank for a second.
Then something flickered.
"I didn't know why I was waiting," she said quietly. "But then I saw you. And I think... I remembered how to breathe."
---
We sat there for a long time.
The rain didn't stop.
Our clothes stuck to us, water dripping from our hair, but we didn't move.
She didn't ask who I was tonight.
She didn't say my name either.
But her shoulder leaned into mine like it used to. Like some part of her still knew this shape, this weight, this warmth.
"I had pieces of dreams last night," she murmured. "Bits and flashes. Like film burned at the edges. But you were in them."
"What was I doing?"
"You were crying again."
---
I laughed, bitterly.
"Seems like I do that a lot in your dreams."
She nodded.
"But not because you were weak. It looked like… love. The kind that hurts. The kind that stays even when everything else disappears."
I turned to her.
And without thinking, I said, "You once told me you were scared of forgetting."
"I still am."
"I think I'm more scared of remembering alone."
---
She didn't say anything.
Just reached for my hand slowly.
And this time — she didn't hesitate.
Our fingers locked.
There it was again.
That piece of her that remembered.
That part she couldn't name, but I could feel.
"Do you believe in souls?" she asked.
"I don't know," I whispered. "But I believe in you."
---
We got up and walked in the rain.
Past the bridge.
To the carved bench.
The river was rushing tonight. Angry, swollen, full of noise.
We sat anyway.
Our legs dripping, teeth chattering, but neither of us wanted to leave.
"Tell me something I said once," she said.
"Okay," I smiled faintly. "You told me the moon follows you because it's lonely. And it likes the way you walk."
She laughed. Soft, surprised.
"That sounds like me."
"It is you."
"Tell me another."
"You said... if you ever forgot everything, I should tell you about the time we watched the stars reflected in the river instead of the sky. And how you said the water was better at keeping secrets."
She turned to the river then.
Watched it rage beneath the surface.
"Do you think I'll get worse?" she asked.
I looked down.
"I don't know."
"And if I do? If one day I look at you and I'm afraid — like you're a stranger or a shadow… will you still come back?"
I reached over and touched her cheek.
Wiped away the water — though I couldn't tell if it was rain or tears.
"Even if you forget my face, my name, my voice… I'll still find you. I'll still sit here. I'll still walk with you."
---
For a while, all we could hear was the rain and the river.
Then she whispered,
"You make the forgetting easier."
And I realized — that's all I could ever hope for.
Not to fix her.
Not to make her remember everything.
But to make the forgetting feel less alone.
To make it gentler.
---
Before we left that night, she turned to me one last time under the glow of the streetlamp and said:
"Maybe love isn't always about holding on to memories. Maybe it's about trusting someone enough to let them remind you."
And in that moment, even if she forgot everything by morning —
I knew something stayed.
---
Quote from Spring (Chapter 9):
"Maybe love isn't always about holding on to memories. Maybe it's about trusting someone enough to let them remind you."
Quote from the Protagonist (Chapter 9):
"Even if you forget my face, my name, my voice… I'll still find you. I'll still sit here. I'll still walk with you."