"…you're not as human as you think you are, Baby."
His words didn't leave the room.
They stayed.
Hanging in the air like something I couldn't touch—but could feel everywhere.
I stared at him.
Waiting for him to laugh.
To say he was joking.
To take it back.
But he didn't.
His eyes stayed on mine, calm… certain… like he wasn't speaking something new.
Like he was reminding me of something I had forgotten.
"That's not funny," I said quietly.
But my voice didn't sound convinced.
Even to me.
He shook his head slightly.
"I'm not trying to be."
The silence between us thickened again.
Not uncomfortable.
Just… heavy.
Like the room itself was holding its breath.
I took a small step back.
Not because I was afraid.
But because I needed space to think.
To breathe.
"You're saying I'm not human," I repeated slowly. "So what am I then?"
For the first time, something flickered in his expression.
Not confusion.
Not doubt.
Something closer to caution.
Like he was deciding how much truth I could handle.
"You're still becoming what you are," he said carefully.
"That's why you feel… incomplete."
My chest tightened.
Incomplete.
That word hurt more than I expected.
"I don't feel incomplete," I said quickly.
But even as I said it…
I knew it wasn't entirely true.
He watched me quietly.
Then said something softer.
"Most people don't notice what's missing inside them… until something reminds them."
My fingers curled slightly.
"Like you?" I asked before I could stop myself.
A pause.
Just a second too long.
Then—
"Yes."
My breath caught.
He didn't deny it.
He didn't avoid it.
He just… accepted it.
Like it was already decided long before I met him.
I shook my head slightly.
"This doesn't make sense," I whispered. "I grew up. I had a life. I had parents—"
The moment I said parents—
Something changed in his gaze.
Not surprise.
Not shock.
But recognition.
Like I had touched something sensitive.
Something important.
"You remember them," he said quietly.
"Yes," I replied immediately.
But my voice softened at the end.
Because even I could hear it—
The uncertainty.
The gaps.
The parts I couldn't fully reach anymore.
He stepped closer again.
Not fast.
Not forceful.
Just… inevitable.
Like the wind itself moving toward me.
"Tell me," he said gently. "What do you remember about their death?"
My throat tightened.
I opened my mouth—
But no words came at first.
Just fragments.
A storm.
A door.
Voices.
Fear in my mother's eyes.
And then—
Silence.
"I… I don't know," I admitted softly.
"It's blurry."
He nodded slowly.
Like he expected that answer.
"That's because it wasn't just a memory," he said.
"It was sealed."
My heart skipped.
"Sealed?" I repeated.
His eyes dropped briefly to the necklace on my chest again.
Then he said it.
Quietly.
Carefully.
Like the world might react if he spoke too loudly.
"There are things in this world that shouldn't be remembered too early."
A pause.
"And things that shouldn't be forgotten at all."
My breath slowed.
"What does that have to do with me?" I asked.
He finally looked fully at me again.
And this time…
There was no hesitation in his voice.
"Everything."
The air in the room shifted again.
Soft.
Familiar.
Like the wind outside had leaned closer to listen.
He lifted his hand slightly—but didn't touch me this time.
Instead, he let his fingers hover near the necklace again.
"This," he said quietly.
"…isn't just a keepsake."
My heartbeat grew louder.
"It's a seal," he continued.
"One that's been suppressing what you are."
My body went still.
"And what am I?" I asked, barely above a whisper.
For the first time…
His expression softened completely.
Not distant.
Not cold.
Something almost… sad.
"You are connected to something older than the world you know," he said.
"Something tied to wind… memory… and life itself."
My mind spun.
He exhaled softly
Then added—
"But you were hidden here for a reason."
A pause.
"And if you awaken fully…"
His gaze sharpened slightly.
"…the world will remember you again."
Silence.
My chest rose and fell slowly.
Trying to understand.
Trying to process.
But everything felt too big.
Too far.
Too unreal.
I looked at him again.
"…And you?" I asked quietly.
"You're part of this too, aren't you?"
This time…
He didn't answer immediately.
But the wind outside shifted.
Stronger.
Like it agreed with my question.
And then he said—
"I am the part of it that found you first."
My heart stopped.
Found me first.
Not met.
Not discovered.
Not met by chance.
Found.????
And in that moment…
I realized something.