The next morning feels heavier than usual.
The sea's louder. The sky's quieter.
And Ren can't tell if the world's changed or if he finally started noticing again.
At school, Aika's already there.
She's sitting alone near the window, sketching before class starts, her pencil moving like it remembers something her mouth refuses to say.
Ryo elbows Ren on the way in.
> "New girl's kinda weird, huh?"
"How so?"
"I saw her staring at the old memorial near the cliff last night. The one everyone avoids."
Ren freezes. He doesn't know why, but the mention of that place feels like a bruise pressed too hard.
---
Class begins. The teacher drones on about literature, metaphors, dreams, the kind of things Ren stopped believing in years ago.
But Aika raises her hand.
Her voice is calm, melodic, the kind of tone that makes people listen without realizing why.
> "Dreams aren't metaphors," she says.
"Sometimes they're memories pretending to be something else."
The room goes quiet.
The teacher chuckles awkwardly, tries to move on.
But Ren can't stop looking at her.
Because something in her words cuts clean through him.
He's had that exact thought before.
Years ago. He can't remember when.
---
After class, Aika stands outside, sketchbook under her arm.
Ren hesitates before walking up. He's not good at small talk. But silence around her feels… wrong. Like there's something between them he should acknowledge.
> "That drawing you made," he says. "The cliff. You been there?"
"Yeah."
"You new here. How'd you find it?"
"I didn't. I remembered it."
Ren frowns. "You remember a place you've never been?"
Aika looks at him, her eyes unreadable.
> "You do it all the time."
He doesn't know what to say. She walks off, wind tugging her hair and for a split second, he sees a flash:
Two kids running toward that same cliff.
One carrying a paper plane.
The other shouting, "Wait for me, Ren!"
Then it's gone.
---
Later that evening, Ren passes by the town's forgotten corner, the path leading to the Hoshimura Cliff Memorial.
He's not sure why he goes there. Maybe curiosity. Maybe instinct.
The plaque is cracked. Moss creeping up the sides.
The inscription's worn out, but a few words remain legible:
> In memory of,
…Hoshimura tragedy, Summer 2015.
He stares at it until his chest starts to ache.
Something inside him screams, Don't remember.
But something else whispers, You already do.
Then he hears a voice behind him.
Soft. Familiar.
> "You shouldn't come here alone."
It's Aika.
The wind carries her hair sideways, and for a moment, just one, Ren swears he's seen that exact silhouette before, years ago, by the same sea.
> "Why are you here?" he asks.
"Because you forgot."
"Forgot what?"
"Her name."
Ren takes a step forward.
> "Who's 'her'?"
Aika's eyes glisten like she's holding back a storm.
> "The one who used to wait for you. Every summer. Right here."
Ren's breath catches.
He opens his mouth to ask more, but the wind hits hard, salt biting his lips, and when he blinks,
Aika's gone.
Only the sketchbook lies on the ground, pages fluttering like broken wings.
He picks it up.
Inside, a single page marked with charcoal dust:
> Three kids standing at the cliff.
One boy.
Two girls.
Laughter sketched into silence.
And below, written faintly in pencil:
> "You promised we'd all come back."
---
That night, Ren dreams again, but this time, he sees the faces.
The girl with sunflower hair.
The boy with a slingshot.
And himself, smiling, unbroken, before the sea swallowed their names.
He wakes up whispering into the dark:
> "Aika… who are you?"
---
End of Chapter 2.