
Chapter 3: The One Who Knows Too Much
Ren couldn’t shake the feeling that Yuki’s sudden appearance wasn’t a coincidence. It was as if she’d stepped out of nowhere, knowing exactly what to say to rattle him. As the morning sun crept through his window, he lay awake, staring at the photo he’d found. The girl from the rooftop was there, clear enough to recognize but just blurry enough to feel unreal.
The words on the back haunted him: “Find her before it’s too late.”
His grip tightened on the photo. If anyone had answers, it was Yuki.
---
At school, Ren found himself scanning the halls, half-expecting her to appear again. But she didn’t. Hiro caught him zoning out during lunch and nudged him with his elbow.
“You okay, man? You’ve been acting weird since Recalibration Day,” Hiro said, stuffing a rice ball into his mouth.
“I’m fine,” Ren lied.
Hiro raised an eyebrow. “Fine? You’re staring into space like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Ren hesitated, debating whether to tell Hiro about Yuki. But Hiro had always brushed off the Forgotten Week as a harmless mystery, something too big and too strange to be worth worrying about. If Ren started rambling about disappearing girls and cryptic messages, Hiro would just laugh it off.
“Seriously, I’m fine,” Ren said, shoving a bite of food into his mouth to end the conversation.
---
The rest of the day passed in a blur. As soon as the final bell rang, Ren headed for the bookstore again. The memory of Yuki standing there, so confident and sure of herself, wouldn’t leave him alone. If she’d found him once, maybe he could find her.
---
The bell jingled as Ren stepped into Fragments of Memory. The shopkeeper gave him a bemused look.
“Back so soon?”
“I’m looking for someone,” Ren said, glancing around.
The man snorted. “Aren’t we all?”
Ren ignored him, wandering deeper into the shop. The shelves were just as chaotic as before, filled with books on strange phenomena and forgotten histories. But this time, Yuki wasn’t there.
Just as he was about to leave, a voice spoke from behind him.
“Looking for me?"
Ren spun around. Yuki stood at the end of the aisle, arms crossed and that same sly grin on her face.
“You,” Ren said, his voice sharper than he intended. “What do you know about the Forgotten Week? About her?” He held up the photo.
Yuki’s eyes flicked to it, and her grin faded. For a moment, she looked almost... sad. Then she stepped closer, her voice low. “Not here. Let’s go somewhere quieter."
---
The Fragment Watchers
They ended up at a small park near the edge of town, sitting on a bench beneath a cluster of bare cherry trees. The autumn air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of damp leaves.
Ren wasted no time. “Who is she? The girl in the photo. How do you know about her?”
Yuki leaned back, crossing her legs. “You’re really direct, huh? No small talk?”
“Just tell me,” Ren said, his patience wearing thin.
Yuki sighed. “Fine. I don’t know who she is. But I know what she is—or at least, what she might be. People like her... they don’t exist in the same way we do. They’re part of the Forgotten Week.”
“What does that even mean?” Ren asked.
“Think about it,” Yuki said. “Every year, we lose seven days. Everyone forgets, except for a few people like you and me who catch fragments. But what if some of those fragments aren’t just memories? What if they’re people? Echoes of the week we’re not supposed to remember.”
Ren stared at her. “You’re saying she’s an... Echo?”
Yuki nodded. “An Echo, a remnant, whatever you want to call it. Sometimes, the reset doesn’t clean everything perfectly. People, objects, even places can get stuck between the Forgotten Week and our world. Most of the time, they fade away. But sometimes...” She trailed off, her gaze distant.
“Sometimes what?” Ren pressed.
“Sometimes they stay,” Yuki said softly. “And when they do, they’re not supposed to exist. That’s why the system—the reset—tries to erase them.”
Ren’s stomach twisted. “The system? You’re talking about the Forgotten Week like it’s... alive.”
“Not alive. More like... a program,” Yuki said, tapping her temple. “A failsafe left behind by something much bigger than us. It’s meant to keep things in balance. But it’s not perfect. And people like you? You’re glitches.”
“Glitches?” Ren repeated, incredulous.
“You’re someone the system can’t fully reset,” Yuki said. “That’s why you remember more than most. And that’s why she’s drawn to you. She’s a part of the Forgotten Week, and for some reason, you’re her anchor.”
Ren’s head spun. It was too much to take in. Echoes, resets, anchors—it all sounded like something out of a sci-fi novel. But the photo in his pocket felt too real to ignore.
“If this system is trying to erase her, how do I stop it?” he asked finally.
Yuki raised an eyebrow. “Stop it? You can’t stop it. The reset is bigger than all of us. Messing with it is like trying to stop the tide.”
“But she’s important,” Ren said, his voice rising. “I don’t know why, but I know she is. I can’t just let her disappear.”
Yuki studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then she stood, brushing off her skirt.
“Meet me tomorrow,” she said. “There’s something you need to see. Something that might help you understand what you’re up against.”
“Where?” Ren asked.
She smirked. “You’ll figure it out.”
Before he could respond, she turned and walked away, her footsteps crunching against the fallen leaves.
Ren sat there for a while, the weight of her words sinking in. He didn’t know what to believe anymore. But one thing was clear: the girl in the photo wasn’t just a fragment of his imagination. She was real.
And he wasn’t going to lose her again.