Thir did not answer Lin's question right away.
He looked at her.
At the woman standing in front of him—and found no trace of the gaze that had once known him.
No familiarity.No remembered smile.No warmth that had once filled the quiet corners of this shop.
Only politeness.
And emptiness.
"What would you like to repair?" Thir asked.
His voice was calm.Too calm—even he found it unfamiliar.
Lin pressed her lips together, thinking for a long moment.
"I'm not sure," she said slowly."But I keep dreaming of someone.I never see his face. I don't know his name.I only know that if I wake up one day and he's not there…my heart will shatter."
Her words cut into the memories that had only just begun to return—sharp as a blade.
Thir nodded and gestured for her to sit.
"Sometimes," he said,"the most painful memoriesaren't the ones meant to be erased."
Lin looked up at him, confused."Then… what should I do?"
Thir hesitated.
For the first time,he wasn't certain of the one thing he had always known how to do.
"…Perhaps," he said carefully,"we should listen to it first."
During the session, Lin closed her eyes.Her breathing even.
Thir did not use his power.
He stayed close—closer than he should have been to a client.
"If you see someone in your dreams," he asked quietly,"how do you feel about him?"
Lin frowned, as if touching something she couldn't explain.
"…Warm," she said."And afraid."
"Afraid of what?"
"That he'll disappear," she whispered."Or that… I will."
Thir's heart slammed painfully against his chest.
A memory surfaced—uninvited.
—A white room—The sound of rain—Someone sitting with his head lowered, voice shaking
If I disappear… will you be okay?
Thir clenched his fist.
He knew that voice now.
It belonged to a man.
Lin opened her eyes and looked at him.
"Are you alright?" she asked gently.
That concern—so sincere,from someone who didn't know who he was—
hurt more than forgetting.
Thir let out a quiet laugh.At himself.
"Nothing's wrong," he said."I was just thinking…some people are so afraid of being abandonedthat they erase themselves from the lives of others."
Lin went still.
"That's…" she said softly,"cruel to themselves."
Yes.
And Thir finally knewwho had done it.
That night, the girl in gray appeared again.
She sat on the counter, swinging her legs.
"You're remembering him now," she said.
Thir didn't deny it.
"He was a man," Thir said, his voice rough."And he loved me more than I ever realized."
The girl stopped swinging her legs and looked at him.
"And you?" she asked."Did you love him?"
The world seemed to stop.
Thir didn't answer at once.
But his heart already had.
"I did," he said quietly."I do.I just don't remember why he disappeared."
The girl closed her eyes, as if sighing on someone else's behalf.
"Because on the night you were about to say it," she said,"he was more afraid of your answerthan of vanishing."
"He chose for me to forget?" Thir asked.
"No," the girl said, shaking her head."He choseto be forgotten."
The next morning,
Thir woke with a name rising clearly in his mind.
A name that had never existed in his memories—yet felt achingly familiar to his heart.
Kin.
The only namethat brought tears to his eyeswithout him knowing why.