Chapter 17
The Next One.
Aira stared at the drawing.
Four children.
She knew three of them.
Herself.
Ren.
Yuto.
But the fourth child was a stranger.
Or at least, she thought he was.
The boy stood beside Yuto, holding his hand.
His face had been drawn carefully, almost too carefully.
Aira reached toward the paper.
The moment her finger touched the boy's face, a sharp pain ran through her head.
She pulled her hand away.
“I've seen him.”
Ren looked at her.
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
She closed her eyes.
“He was in the station.”
“Three years ago?”
“No.”
Aira shook her head.
“Before that.”
Ren looked at the drawing again.
“Who is he?”
“I don't know.”
Her mother appeared in the doorway.
The moment she saw the drawing, all the color disappeared from her face.
Aira noticed.
“You know him.”
Her mother didn't answer.
“Mom.”
Still nothing.
Aira stepped closer.
“Who is he?”
Her mother finally whispered,
“His name was Haru.”
Aira's heart tightened.
“Who was Haru?”
Her mother looked at the drawing.
“He was Yuto's best friend.”
“Where is he now?”
Her mother looked away.
“I don't know.”
Aira felt a chill.
“Did he disappear too?”
Her mother nodded.
“But nobody remembers him.”
Aira looked at Ren.
“How many people disappeared?”
Her mother shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Then she looked at Aira.
“That's what frightened your sister.”
Aira waited.
“She discovered that Yuto wasn't the first.”
The room became silent.
“There were others before him,” her mother continued. “Children who disappeared from the station. Families who forgot they ever existed.”
Ren looked at the drawing.
“And Haru was one of them.”
Her mother nodded.
Aira suddenly understood why her sister had spent years investigating the station.
She hadn't been searching only for Yuto.
She had been searching for everyone who had been erased.
Aira picked up the photograph again.
“Why is Haru connected to us?”
Her mother hesitated.
“I don't know.”
Aira looked at the drawing.
The four children were holding hands.
Then she noticed something strange.
Haru wasn't looking at the other children.
He was looking directly at whoever was holding the pencil.
Aira's breath caught.
“Mom.”
Her mother looked at her.
“Who drew this?”
Her mother went pale.
“Your sister.”
Aira stared at the picture.
“Then why did she draw Haru?”
“I don't know.”
Aira turned the paper over.
There was writing on the back.
The next one will remember everything.
Ren read it.
“The next one…”
He looked at Aira.
“Maybe that's you.”
Aira's heart began racing.
“No.”
She remembered the strange memories.
The train.
Her sister.
Yuto.
The Keeper.
The mysterious man.
Maybe they hadn't been random.
Maybe every memory had been leading her toward something.
A loud sound came from downstairs.
Something had fallen.
Aira and Ren looked at each other.
Her mother whispered,
“Don't go down.”
Another sound.
This time, footsteps.
Slow.
Someone was walking through the house.
Aira moved toward the stairs.
Ren stopped her.
“Wait.”
The footsteps stopped.
Then a man's voice came from below.
“I'm sorry.”
Aira froze.
She knew that voice.
The mysterious man.
He spoke again.
“You were never supposed to remember this much.”
Ren stepped in front of Aira.
“Who are you?”
The man appeared at the bottom of the stairs.
He looked older than Aira had imagined.
Tired.
Not frightening.
Almost broken.
His eyes moved to the drawing.
“Haru.”
Aira stared at him.
“You knew him.”
“Yes.”
“Where is he?”
The man's expression changed.
“He's still waiting.”
“Where?”
“At the place where the first promise was made.”
Aira felt her chest tighten.
“The river?”
The man shook his head.
“No.”
He looked directly at her.
“The station.”
Aira took a step forward.
“What does he want?”
The man lowered his eyes.
“He wants to come home.”
Aira's heart sank.
“Then help him.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because I was the one who sent him away.”
Silence.
Ren looked at him.
“You're the one who took the children.”
The man nodded.
Aira felt anger rising inside her.
“Why?”
He looked at her.
“Because I believed I was saving them.”
“From what?”
The man's eyes filled with regret.
“From you.”
Aira froze.
The man continued.
“Your family carries something that should have disappeared generations ago.”
“What?”
He looked at the drawing.
“The ability to remember people who have been erased.”
Aira couldn't speak.
The man stepped backward.
“And now that ability has awakened in you.”
He turned toward the door.
“Wait!”
Aira ran downstairs.
But by the time she reached the entrance, he was gone.
Only one thing remained on the floor.
A small piece of paper.
Aira picked it up.
There was a message written across it.
Come to the station before the last memory disappears.
Ren stood beside her.
“When?”
Aira looked at the paper.
There was no date.
No explanation.
Only one final sentence beneath the message.
Bring the boy who remembers you.
Aira looked at Ren.
He understood immediately.
“This isn't about you anymore.”
Aira shook her head.
“No.”
She held his hand.
“It's about all of them.”
And somewhere beneath the old station, a forgotten child opened his eyes.