I ran breathless down the hall, my heart pounding. "W-what are you talking about...?" I gasped, but he didn't answer. He simply left behind a box of food in the office, a small note pinned on top: "For you, and for your friends." — Yuan. My mind spiraled. Who were you, really?
Just then, Kant's voice pierced the silence, loud and teasing. "Damn, Lyx! You've got a secret admirer!" He laughed, before adding, "Oh, by the way—Paxley's got an announcement." Almost immediately, notifications flooded our phones.
The group chat exploded:
Paxley: Guys, I'm planning an event! I'll send the location soon.
Asclepius: FREE FOOD?! Sweet!!
Me: It's been a while. I'm in.
Milk: I CAN'T WAIT!!
Shion: But I'm broke...
Kant: I'll treat you, Shion.
Milk: What about me?!
Asclepius: Me too!
Paxley: I'll give everyone a free ride!
Everyone: THANK YOU, UNCLE PAXLEY.
Paxley: Stop calling me uncle, you doofuses!
That night, exhaustion weighed heavy on me, so I went home early to rest. But when I opened the location Paxley sent, a strange familiarity tugged at my chest. Could it really be? No, I told myself. It was just my imagination.
–愛·
"We're visiting the old neighborhood. Wanna come, Noé?" Shyn asked casually.
I frowned, picking up a dart. "I wasn't invited. What's the point?"
"How did it go? Did it work out, Noé?"
"It didn't, Shyn. He didn't even recognize me. What's the point? I don't want to look like a creep."
Shyn met my eyes but said nothing.
"Well then," he smirked, "good luck, Noé. You'll be competing with someone who was once very close to him."
I clenched the dart. "No matter what happens… I'll win his heart."
"Bingo," Shyn said with a nod before walking out.
As I cleaned up the darts, my thoughts raced. I had to find him — the one trying to steal Calyx from me.
Why can't you remember me? I thought.
A voice cut through my head.
"You should've stayed by his side."
"What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded.
Feitan smirked, "Don't forget to post your new chapter, Qin Yuan."
"Oh... yeah. Right." I sighed as he closed the door behind him.
But his words echoed inside me like a drumbeat: Calyx will be mine.
ลิกซ์—
At the event, I glanced around nervously. "Hey, Paxley, are you sure we're in the right place?"
"Of course! This is where we're celebrating. Why, Calyx? What's wrong?"
"It's just… this place feels familiar."
"Seriously? This was our childhood neighborhood!" Kant laughed.
Milk gasped, "What happened to you?!"
"Calm down, guys," Shion said.
Later, we wandered to the old garden playground, the one where we used to play. My eyes caught something—a birch tree. Carved into its bark were the initials C+C.
"Hey, that symbol looks cute," Asclepius remarked.
"What symbol?" I asked.
"The C+C one!"
"Wait... that was written by Chantara, wasn't it?" Paxley asked quietly.
I whispered, trembling, my fingers tracing the carving.
Suddenly, a child's voice echoed in my memory:
"Calyx! Calyx! Let's carve our initials!"
"Sure!"
"Promise me one day we'll get married, okay?"
"I promise!"
We had laughed together, so carefree.
The memory crashed over me like a wave, and I stepped away, tears welling up. Milk found me.
"Calyx... what's wrong?"
"Oh, nothing. Just... a memory."
He wiped my tears gently.
"Maybe he's still alive after all. What do you think, Calyx?"
"I don't know. Maybe… part of him is still stuck in my heart."
The sunset glowed golden and soft, wrapping us in warmth.
Then Milk kissed me.
"M-Milk?" I stammered.
He said nothing, just kissed me again.
Is this even him?
"Zhen… I'm sorry for doing this." He whispered my real name.
"Every sunset's beautiful, but none of them compare to right now—with you."
Then, just like that, he pulled away, acting normal once more.
ψ—
Later, I searched for clues about the diary's owner and found a bundle of folded letters — all addressed to Calyx.
"ASCLEPIUS!" Shion called.
"Y-yeah?" I stammered.
But he didn't answer. He had fainted, drunk.
ลิกซ์—
A week later, I finally reopened my art studio. Sunlight spilled gold across the dusty floor, filtering through sheer curtains. Canvases lined the walls—some cherished, others forgotten.
I stepped in slowly, brushing my fingers over old wood. Noé followed silently.
"They say our hands remember what our minds forget," he murmured. "That sometimes the truth comes out in brushstrokes before it dares to speak."
My eyes caught a half-hidden canvas behind the others.
"Noé… wait."
I pulled it into the light. Dust scattered in the air.
A half-finished painting stared back—a boy's face, soft and warm. But the eyes were blank.
"You painted this?" Noé asked.
"I don't know. Maybe. Years ago."
The canvas whispered to me, and without thinking, my hand reached for a brush. I began painting his eyes.
"I didn't know then. Or maybe I refused to. But the moment I painted his eyes… I remembered."
Brown bloomed on the canvas like embers reigniting a dying flame.
FLASHBACK – BURNING HOUSE – NIGHT
Screams and embers filled the air as fire devoured the walls. Chantara's face was lit by the flames, reaching for me.
"He reached for me."
Young Calyx was frozen.
"And I… I didn't reach back."
The brush clattered to the floor. I stumbled, hands gripping the table, breath ragged.
"Calyx?" Noé rushed to my side.
"I saw him, Noé. I left him there."
He knelt beside me.
Sometimes the past doesn't wait for permission. It crashes back like a storm.
My eyes met the canvas.
The boy finally had a name.
A memory.
A pain that never left.
As we walked home, rain began to fall — cold, gentle.
"Noé... why can't you just remember me?" I whispered.
"Who are you, really?" I asked quietly.
"I... I'm Chantara..."
And in that moment—
My world stopped.
<[To be continued]>