Kai woke up to a quieter kind of silence.
Not the crushing weight from before—this one felt restrained, careful, like the room itself was afraid of disturbing him. The fan above spun slowly, its hum steady enough to keep him anchored. His head still hurt, but the chaos had settled into something dull and constant, like the echo after something breaks.
Something was missing.
He didn't need to search for it to know that.
Memories lined up neatly in his head—places, dates, routines. He knew where he was. He knew how the world worked. Facts came easily. But when he reached for people, for warmth, for familiarity, his mind returned only empty space. Like torn pages, cleanly removed.
Except for one face.
Mira sat beside the bed.
She wasn't doing anything special—just sitting there, hands resting loosely in her lap. When she noticed his eyes open, she straightened slightly.
"You're awake," she said.
Her voice didn't hurt his head. That felt important.
"Yeah," Kai replied. He watched her for a moment. "You stayed."
"I said I would."
He nodded, accepting it without question. That unsettled him more than it should have. Trust usually came with memory. He had none—yet he trusted her anyway.
The door opened softly.
Sora stepped in first.
She hesitated at the threshold, like she wasn't sure she was allowed to exist in this version of the room. Her eyes were swollen and red, the kind that came from crying too long and too quietly. Ayko followed close behind her, posture stiff, expression controlled but strained. Joro came last, closing the door behind him with deliberate care.
Kai turned his head toward them.
Nothing.
No warmth. No recognition.
The distance hit immediately.
"Hey," Sora said, forcing a smile that cracked halfway through.
"Hey," Kai replied politely.
That single word did the damage.
Sora's smile collapsed. Ayko's fingers curled tightly into her sleeve. Joro's shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly.
"Do you remember anything?" Ayko asked.
"I remember things," Kai said. "Just not… people."
Sora swallowed hard. "Do you remember me?"
Kai hesitated. He wanted to lie. He wanted to give her something—anything. But the truth was merciless.
"No," he said softly. "But I know I should."
Sora turned away, shoulders shaking.
Ayko stepped forward instinctively, placing herself slightly in front of her. Mira stood up quietly and moved back a step, giving them space without leaving.
Joro exhaled slowly.
"Kai," he said. "Look at me."
Kai did.
"This didn't happen randomly."
Ayko stiffened. "What does that mean?"
Kai frowned slightly. "I figured as much."
Joro hesitated—just a fraction of a second.
"It happened because of your power," he said.
The words landed flat.
Cold.
Final.
The room went still.
Kai absorbed it in silence. "So… it wasn't just a theory."
"No," Joro said. "It's a side effect."
Ayko's breath caught. "Power?"
Joro swore under his breath. "Ayko—"
"No," she cut in sharply. "You don't get to stop now. You said power. Explain."
Silence pressed down hard.
Kai closed his eyes. When he opened them, he looked tired. Older. "Psychic," he said quietly. "That's what it's called."
Sora turned back sharply. "You're joking."
"I wish," Joro replied.
Ayko stared at Kai. "You never told me."
"I wasn't hiding it from you," Kai said. "I was protecting you."
Ayko let out a broken laugh. "By lying?"
"By surviving," he corrected.
Joro continued, voice steady but heavy. "He's been suppressing it for years. Ignoring it. Letting it build up. That collapse wasn't exhaustion—it was backlash."
"And the memory loss?" Ayko asked.
"The price," Joro said.
Sora covered her mouth with both hands.
Mira spoke quietly. "So this happens because he keeps pushing it down?"
Joro nodded. "Yes."
"And if he doesn't?" she asked.
Joro hesitated. "Then the damage spreads outward instead of inward."
Kai stared at the ceiling. "So either way, something breaks."
No one argued.
Ayko wiped her face aggressively. "You idiot," she whispered. "You were carrying this alone?"
Kai didn't answer.
Mira stepped a little closer to the bed. "You don't look surprised," she said to him.
"I'm not," Kai replied. "I just didn't expect the cost to be… this."
Power didn't protect you.
It asked what you were willing to lose.
He'd lost his memories.
And now, his secret.
Ayko turned back to him, eyes fierce and shaking. "Next time," she said, "you don't decide alone."
Kai met her gaze. For the first time since waking up, guilt cut through the emptiness.
"…Okay."
Mira looked at him for a long moment. "Then you're not allowed to disappear quietly anymore," she said.
Kai didn't know why, but those words stayed with him.
Long after the room fell silent again.