The classroom clock ticked slower than usual.
Or maybe Rin was just waiting.
For something — a memory, a sign, a ripple in the pattern.
Their literature teacher, Ms. Ishida, scribbled the assignment on the board.
"Write about something you lost but never forgot."
Some students groaned.
Yuki leaned over to Mei. "Sounds like a breakup essay waiting to happen."
Jun tossed his pen in the air. "If I write about my phone charger, does that count?"
Laughter scattered in polite little waves. The class felt more alive than usual.
Rin didn't laugh. Aro didn't even shift in his seat.
He was staring at the blackboard.
Not reading — just... staring.
Like the words had fangs.
Rin glanced sideways at him.
He was gripping the pen too tightly.
There was a faint tremble in the tendons of his wrist.
She opened her mouth — but didn't say anything.
He caught her glance.
Their eyes met.
And for just a second, she felt her stomach twist.
Not with fear.
Something else.
She looked away quickly.
But not before he saw the faintest pink rise on her cheek.
That night, most of the class texted about the assignment.
Mei started a group chat titled: "Ishida's Trauma Essay Club".
Someone added Rin.
No one added Aro.
He sat at his desk, untouched paper in front of him.
He didn't write.
Instead, his hand moved toward the second drawer — one he never used.
It opened with a soft click.
Inside, folded once, was a piece of yellowed paper.
He didn't recognize the handwriting.
But it was his.
"You promised you'd remember. You lied."
The edge was stained dark red.
Old. Dried. Sharp.
His chest felt tight.
Like the air was heavier now.
He sat there for a long time.
The clock ticked on.
But the page didn't leave his hand.
He didn't sleep.
The next morning, Ms. Ishida called for submissions.
Most students shuffled papers forward lazily.
Rin walked up quietly and placed hers on the desk, early.
Ishida glanced at it.
Read the first few lines.
Paused.
"Vivid," she muttered to herself. "Almost too vivid."
She slipped it beneath her books carefully — not with dismissal, but almost like one might fold a letter they didn't want others to see.
During lunch, Rin didn't go to the cafeteria.