"Our house?"
What house?
Joel didn't have time to think. He watched as Clementine sprinted off, waving and calling out.
"Keep up! Keep up!"
That smile, like a blooming flower, stood out brightly in the icy, snowy landscape.
Joel clumsily ran after her, stumbling as he went. "We have to go..."
With a lurch, Joel grabbed Clementine's legs and fell to the ground. Clementine, who had been waiting for Joel, couldn't dodge and collapsed with him, but she didn't seem to mind. She kept laughing.
Only Joel was worried.
"We... we have to go, Clementine."
Joel struggled to get up, but Clementine quickly rose to her knees and tackled him back down—
A snowball fight.
Clementine piled snow onto Joel's face like a playful child. She even helped smear a snow mask over his face, laughing as his eyes, nose, and mouth disappeared under the snow.
Joel thrashed about like a fish out of water but was careful not to hurt Clementine with too much force.
"Cle... Clementine…"
He called her name repeatedly, but she didn't respond—just stuffed his mouth with more snow. Joel finally gave in, joining Clementine in the snow, using his hands like penguin wings to fling snow back at her.
They played like two five-year-olds, more and more enthusiastic as they went.
In the middle of their frolic, Joel suddenly snapped out of it, clapping his hands to his sides and shouting, "Now's not the time for playing around!"
But Clementine leapt onto him again, lying on top of Joel, pressing her ear to his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
However, it was just a trick.
While distracting Joel, Clementine sneakily gathered more snow and tossed it onto his face without even looking up. Joel spat out the snow, and she couldn't contain her laughter anymore, bursting out in joy.
Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha!
Before long, Joel had become a snowman.
Lying in the white snow, Clementine and Joel rested quietly. The deep blues and greens of the sea blended like ink on rice paper, with Clementine's bright red hair glowing like a flame, contrasting beautifully with the serene laughter, creating a pure moment of happiness.
For just a fleeting second, time seemed to stand still.
Until Joel came back to his senses—
Now wasn't the time to bask in happiness. It was because he cherished this happiness so much that he needed to stop the Memory Clinic's process. He had to hide Clementine somewhere safe in his memories before she was completely erased.
Joel glanced toward the camera as if it were the ominous figure of the man in black, coming to erase Clementine from his memory. His face showed a hint of panic.
In a sudden move, Joel pulled Clementine close, hugging her tightly with all his strength.
Then, he stood up.
Joel helped Clementine to her feet. "We need to go. Now. Right now."
But after only a few steps, Clementine tugged on his hands and flopped to the ground, sitting as if she were on a sled.
"I have no idea where we're even going," Clementine whined playfully.
Her face was full of mischief, her eyes sparkling with joy—she just wanted to be with Joel, to play with him.
Joel didn't have time to look back, dragging Clementine forward.
Pull, pull, pull.
"It'll be fun. I promise, it's going to be great there," Joel said, dragging her toward the west.
But Clementine kept talking about "our house," pulling Joel toward the east. "No, no, this way! We're going here."
Joel shook his head vigorously. "That way!"
"Oh, Clementine, you're not helping at all!"
Clementine leaned back, fully playing her part in the sledding game, and Joel struggled like a man pulling a barge along the Volga River, trudging forward with great difficulty.
The snow was thinning, revealing the sand beneath.
Joel's strength was failing, and eventually, he collapsed.
But he still didn't give up. Turning around, he grabbed Clementine by the arms from behind, and with great effort, began dragging her through the snow like a snail.
Huff, huff.
Clementine was delighted, her laughter ringing out. Her royal-blue knit hat slipped off, revealing her bright red hair, and her laughter echoed in the sea breeze.
Ha ha, ha ha ha.
Joel focused on his task. "Clementine, we need to leave, we need to..."
Huffing and puffing, he suddenly realized—
Clementine was gone.
The camera cut to Kate, who rolled away playfully, lying in the snow and gazing quietly at Anson.
Joel was still pulling, but the weight in his hands had vanished, and he tumbled backward in a mess, sprawling on the ground.
But Joel didn't have time to worry about anything else. He looked down at his empty arms, then frantically scanned the area.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
The snow-covered beach was in disarray, but now it was just him. Clementine had vanished without a trace.
Joel froze, forgetting even to call out her name. He just stared blankly ahead, looking at the deep, roaring blue sea. His shoulders slumped slightly but then stayed still, caught in an awkward posture, rigid and unmoving.
Though his face and eyes couldn't be seen, the sense of confusion and loss was palpable from his side and back. From happiness and laughter to sudden solitude, the vast emptiness made him look especially alone.
Without realizing it, Kate held her breath.
Inside the villa, Michel watched the monitor, lost in thought:
If only everything could freeze in this moment, he thought. A simple happiness, just before the memories were lost, and in that instant, realizing how precious they were, trying desperately to hold on.
But the harder you try, the faster it slips away. The more anxious you become, the more you lose your grip.
And then, you're left confused.
It wasn't sadness, or pain, or despair—just confusion.
And that confusion hurt even more.
On screen, Joel, who had been trying so hard just a second ago, suddenly stopped. No more movement, no more shouting. Nothing. He just held that pose, the only changes barely noticeable. After blinking a few times and seeing nothing change, he began to doubt his eyes, wondering if it was just the wind distorting his senses. Joel remained frozen in place.
But that scene, without any dramatic emotion, hit harder than any other performance could have. It broke through defenses, catching you completely off guard.
Yet, there were no tears—just a heavy sigh, like a ball of cotton stuck in the chest.
Quietly, Michel continued watching.
Until a chill crept up from his feet, snapping him out of it.
"Cut!"