Rain poured softly that night —
the kind that makes the world sound far away.
Across the street, in his dimly lit room, Ren sat by the window —
his phone still in his hand, her contact name glowing faintly.
He'd said those harsh words hours ago…
but the truth was, they hurt him more than they ever could hurt her.
He closed his eyes — and everything came rushing back.
The first time he met Aiyumi —
a little girl with messy hair and a sketchbook bigger than her.
She had smiled at him that day, holding a crayon,
and said,
"If you ever feel sad, draw something beautiful. It helps."
He never forgot that.
Not once.
Through the years —
different schools, different paths,
but his eyes always searched for her in crowds.
When they finally ended up in the same college again,
he thought it was fate's small mercy.
But fate had other plans.
That misunderstanding —
small, stupid, meaningless —
had built a wall neither of them could climb.
Ren looked at his phone again.
A photo message — the one he'd secretly sent.
The drawing she lost.
The word "Remember."
He didn't know why he sent it.
Maybe because he couldn't say it aloud:
Remember us. Remember me.
He whispered,
"I never stopped loving you… I just forgot how to say it."
Outside, lightning flashed —
and for a brief second, their houses faced each other through the storm.
Two windows. Two hearts.
Both awake. Both breaking.