Chapter 5
The Truth.
Aira couldn't sleep.
The photograph lay on her desk, face down.
She had turned it over dozens of times, as if the words written on the back might somehow change.
SHE CHOSE YOU BOTH BEFORE.
Who was the woman?
Why had she chosen them?
And what exactly had happened three years ago?
Aira picked up her phone and looked at Ren's last message.
Don't investigate without me. Remember our promise.
She smiled despite herself.
He was right.
They had made a promise.
She was no longer facing this alone.
The next morning, Ren was waiting outside her apartment building.
“You look terrible,” Aira said.
“You too.”
“Did you sleep?”
“No.”
“Me neither.”
They started walking.
Neither of them knew where they were going.
They simply followed the one clue they had left.
The woman.
Aira stopped suddenly.
“Wait.”
Ren turned.
“What?”
“My sister's old apartment.”
He stared at her.
“You still have the key?”
Aira nodded.
“My mother never let anyone clear it out.”
They took the train across the city.
The apartment had been empty for years.
Dust covered the furniture, and sunlight entered through the curtains in thin, pale strips.
Aira stood in the doorway.
She hadn't been inside since her sister disappeared.
For a moment, she couldn't move.
Ren waited beside her.
“You don't have to do this.”
“Yes, I do.”
Aira walked inside.
Her sister's room was almost untouched.
Books remained on the shelves.
A small mirror hung above the desk.
A dried flower sat beside the window.
Aira opened the desk drawers.
Nothing.
She checked the wardrobe.
Nothing.
Then Ren noticed something.
“Look.”
He pointed beneath the bed.
Aira knelt down and pulled out a small metal box.
It was locked.
She remembered the silver key from the station.
She inserted it.
The box opened.
Inside was a letter.
Aira unfolded it with trembling hands.
The handwriting belonged to her sister.
Aira,
If you're reading this, something has gone wrong.
Aira's breath caught.
She continued reading.
There is a place beneath the old station that doesn't belong to our world. People who enter it are slowly forgotten by everyone outside.
I found it three years ago.
I thought I could bring someone back. I was wrong.
Aira stopped.
Ren took a step closer.
“Keep reading.”
She did.
There is a woman who controls the passage between the two worlds. She calls herself the Keeper.
She told me that two people had already been chosen.
Aira looked at Ren.
The room suddenly felt colder.
She continued.
Aira and Ren.
The letter slipped from her fingers.
Ren picked it up.
His face had gone pale.
“She knew us.”
Aira nodded.
“She knew us before we forgot.”
They read the rest together.
The Keeper had found them when they were children.
She had discovered that their lives were connected to the station in a way neither of them understood.
When the accident happened, Aira's sister had tried to save Ren.
She succeeded.
But in doing so, she had broken one of the Keeper's rules.
She had crossed into the place where forgotten people went.
And once she entered, the world began erasing her.
Aira's eyes filled with tears.
“She sacrificed herself.”
Ren looked down.
“Because of me.”
“No.”
Aira's voice was firm.
“Don't say that.”
“But if I hadn't been there”
“She chose to save you.”
Aira looked directly at him.
“That was her choice.”
Ren was silent.
Aira reached for his hand.
He looked at her.
“You didn't take her from me.”
His fingers tightened around hers.
“I know.”
But Aira could tell he didn't believe it yet.
The letter continued.
The Keeper cannot bring your sister back.
But she can offer a trade.
Aira's heart stopped.
“What trade?”
Ren read the next line.
One forgotten soul may return if another takes their place.
Aira stared at the words.
Then she understood.
“No.”
Ren looked at her.
“What?”
“My sister wants to come back.”
Aira's voice trembled.
“She wants one of us to disappear.”
Ren's face hardened.
“That won't happen.”
Aira looked at the final paragraph.
There were only a few lines left.
If you both begin disappearing, it means the Keeper has started the exchange.
Do not trust the train.
Do not let either of you enter it alone.
Most importantly...
The final sentence was written much darker than the others.
Do not let Aira remember the night she chose Ren.
Aira froze.
She looked at Ren.
“What does that mean?”
He shook his head.
“I don't know.”
A sudden pain shot through Aira's head.
She dropped the letter.
Images flashed through her mind.
A little girl running through rain.
Her sister was shouting.
Ren as a child.
A train is approaching.
Aira holding Ren's hand.
Then her own voice.
I'll stay with you.
Aira gasped.
Ren caught her before she fell.
“Aira!”
She opened her eyes.
She was crying.
“I remember.”
“What?”
“That night.”
Ren looked frightened.
“What happened?”
Aira stared at him.
“I wasn't trying to save you.”
Ren went still.
“You were.”
Aira shook her head.
“No.”
Her memories continued returning.
She remembered standing beside the tracks.
She remembered Ren crying.
She remembered the Keeper.
And then she remembered the choice.
The Keeper had given Aira a choice.
Save herself...
or save Ren.
Aira had chosen Ren.
That choice had created the bond between them.
And the Keeper had never forgotten it.
Aira looked at Ren through her tears.
“I chose you.”
Ren's voice was barely audible.
“Why?”
Aira smiled sadly.
“Because you were scared.”
He stared at her.
“I didn't know you.”
“You didn't need to.”
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Ren pulled her into his arms.
Aira closed her eyes.
She could hear his heartbeat.
For the first time, she wasn't afraid of the memories.
She was afraid of losing him.
Aira whispered,
“We can't let her trade one of us for my sister.”
Ren held her tighter.
“We won't.”
Outside the window, the sky suddenly darkened.
Aira looked toward the glass.
A woman was standing across the street.
The Keeper.
She was watching them.
Aira stepped toward the window.
The woman smiled.
Then she raised her hand.
On her wrist were seven white lines.
Aira's heart stopped.
The Keeper had them too.
But unlike Aira and Ren...
all seven of her lines were still there.
The woman mouthed something through the glass.
Aira couldn't hear her.
But she understood the words.
One day left.
Aira looked at her own wrist.
Only three lines remained.
She turned toward Ren.
Neither of them needed to speak.
They had finally discovered the truth.
Their seven days were never a countdown to death.
They were a countdown to a choice.
And tomorrow, they would have to decide whether they were willing to lose everything to bring someone back.