The silence that followed that sentence wasn't empty — it was heavy, charged with a truth Thalya had never confessed to anyone, not even to herself.
Her violet eyes stood out perfectly in the window's reflection. Her left eye had a faintly pinkish, almost whitish hue, partially blind. She was hypnotized by her own image — as if the reflection could speak or answer her doubts.
Seina shifted uneasily; her leg bounced beneath the table, her hand trembled slightly, and her heart pounded hard enough to make her breath audible.
'Does she remember any time she died? I just hope it's not the one where she slapped me…' she thought, sweating cold.
"It started as a low fever," Thalya sighed before continuing. "I had headaches, a runny nose that wouldn't stop — we thought it was just a silly flu. But everything fell apart when the fever spiked out of nowhere. Then came the dizziness, that unbearable pain from the light… the worst part was when I began to say nonsense. I heard my mother crying… but I didn't know why."
She looked down at her hands, squeezing them gently. They were cold, fingers interlaced as if trying to warm each other. She took a deep breath, as if drawing courage from the air itself, and went on.
"On the fifth day, my mom took me to a private hospital. I… I was already having seizures, walking unsteadily. I'd collapse without noticing." She shook her head lightly. "After that… I don't remember anything."
A waitress approached, far too cheerful for the heavy atmosphere surrounding their table. The floral apron she wore clashed with the weight of the moment.
"What can I get you?" she asked in a bright tone.
Thalya blinked a few times, taking a moment to return to reality.
"Ah… a cappuccino and… sweet bread, please."
"And you, miss?" the waitress's eyes turned to Seina.
She swallowed hard before answering.
"A… a hot chocolate with marshmallows," she muttered, averting her eyes, cheeks flushed.
The girl jotted it down quickly, tilted her head, and disappeared down the aisle between tables.
When the sound of her footsteps faded, the silence returned — as if it had only been pushed aside for a moment. Seina couldn't stand it; she leaned slightly over the table, her fingers gripping her phone tightly.
"Was… that how you died?"
"I'm not sure…" Thalya murmured.
"W-what?" Seina froze, blinking as if she'd misheard.
"Later I woke up in my room, but… everyone had vanished. My whole family was gone without explanation. Everything was abandoned — motorcycle, car, clothes, bikes, even cell phones… That's when I realized I had died. On my mom's phone were messages she'd exchanged with the doctor… and there was also a file attached. It was my diagnosis. What killed me was Naegleria fowleri."
"Naegleria fowleri? That brain-eating amoeba?"
"Yeah… but I don't know if I really died or survived. There was never a death certificate issued…"
"No way. If even a forty-year-old adult wouldn't survive that, imagine a teenager," Seina said, cracking an involuntary half-smile.
"Seina… I was nine years old…"
She froze at the revelation.
'So… she's already died outside the reset?' Seina thought.
The waitress returned with their order, breaking the heavy mood.
"Here you go — a cappuccino and sweet bread for you, and a hot chocolate with marshmallows for you," she said, holding the empty tray against her apron. "I'd like to ask you to rate my service later — you'll find a rating from 1 to 10 on the back of the menu. That said, I hope you enjoy."
She gave a polite bow and left at an unhurried pace, the sound of her heels gradually fading away.
Thalya wrapped her hands around the warm cappuccino cup, seeking comfort in its heat.
"After being abandoned, I went to the hospital… and what I still don't understand to this day is that my records were erased from there. It's like… as if I was never there."
"Thalya…" Seina's voice came out harsher than she intended. "What if… it wasn't just once?"
"What do you mean?" Thalya frowned.
Seina slid her phone forward with trembling fingers. She opened the Notes app and tapped the only folder saved there. She hesitated for a moment, then turned the screen toward Thalya.
There was a list of dates, and beside each, the same description repeated again and again: Thalya dead. Creature. Reset.
"These… these are the times I've seen you die…"
Thalya's face drained of color, her violet eyes scanning the same sentence, written over and over on different dates. She shook her head in disbelief.
"Is this some kind of sick joke?"
'She won't believe just my words,' Seina thought with a sudden flash of clarity. 'I need something undeniable. Something she already has in her own hands but can't explain.'
Her gaze fell on Thalya's phone, blinking with innocent notifications on the table. Then she realized the proof was already there.
"I wish it were," Seina whispered, lowering her phone. "That's why I avoided you. I didn't want to see you die again. But the proof isn't just on my phone, Thalya. It's on yours."
She pointed at the device, her voice becoming firmer, clearer.
"You have a photo of us at school… or almost. And besides that, you have my contact saved on LINE. I bet you have no idea how it even got there."
Thalya stayed silent, staring at the cappuccino foam. Seina's voice was flat, as though all emotion had been drained away.
"So you're telling me… I die, always on the seventh day, and I come back, but I forget that day. Is that it?"
"Yes." Seina leaned forward, her voice low but weighted with undeniable gravity. "The proof is on your own phone, Thalya. In that photo you don't remember taking. In my contact you don't know how appeared there," she repeated.
Thalya didn't answer. Her fingers, still wrapped around the cup, trembled slightly as she looked at her phone on the table — as if it were a dangerous artifact.
"You're right…" she whispered, her voice sounding distant. "I really don't remember."