Memory is strange.
Sometimes it fades slowly.
Like old ink beneath rainwater.
And sometimes—
It disappears violently.
Ripped away.
Sarthak sat alone in the empty classroom long after everyone had left.
Sunlight faded across the desks.
Shadows stretched longer.
But he did not move.
Because one sentence kept tearing through his mind.
"Why can't you remember the moment after she fell?"
He remembered the rain.
Her scream.
His hand missing hers.
Then—
Nothing.
A complete void.
Ten whole minutes.
Gone.
And now that he noticed it—
The emptiness terrified him.
Flash
Rainwater hitting concrete.
Someone shouting his name.
Another flash.
Blood on his sleeve.
Another.
A hand grabbing his collar violently.
Then darkness again.
Sarthak pressed both hands against his head.
"…What happened…"
The pain was getting worse now.
Like his brain itself was resisting.
A knock interrupted the silence.
He looked up sharply.
Ananya stood at the door.
Watching him carefully.
"…You look awful."
"…Thanks."
She walked inside slowly.
No sarcasm this time.
Only concern hidden beneath sharp eyes.
"…You remembered something."
Not a question.
A statement.
Sarthak exhaled slowly.
"…There are ten minutes missing."
Ananya froze slightly.
"…Ten minutes?"
"After she fell."
Silence.
"…I remember before it."
A pause.
"…But not after."
Ananya's expression darkened immediately.
"…That is bad."
Sarthak looked up.
"…You say that like you expected it."
A long silence followed.
Then—
Very slowly—
She sat across from him.
"…Trauma can damage memory," she said quietly.
"But…"
Her fingers tightened slightly.
"…memories can also be suppressed intentionally."
Cold silence filled the room instantly.
"…What are you saying?"
Ananya held his gaze.
"…I think someone made you forget."
No.
That sounded insane.
Impossible.
Yet—
Nothing about this situation felt normal anymore.
Before Sarthak could respond—
A ringtone echoed softly through the empty classroom.
🎵 "I would never fall in love again…"
Both of them froze instantly.
Not Ananya's phone.
Not Sarthak's.
Someone else's.
Inside the classroom.
Slowly—
Sarthak stood.
The song continued quietly.
Hidden.
Coming from the back lockers.
Ananya moved first.
She opened the final locker sharply.
Inside—
A phone.
Old model.
Burner device.
Still playing the ringtone.
Sarthak grabbed it instantly.
No password.
Only one video file.
Date:
Four Years Ago
His heartbeat slowed.
"…Play it," Ananya whispered.
Sarthak pressed it.
Static flickered across the screen.
Then—
Video.
Rain again.
Different angle.
Closer.
Shaky footage.
Like someone recorded secretly.
And then—
Sarthak saw himself.
Kneeling near the edge after the girl fell.
Frozen.
Broken.
But then—
The footage continued past the point his memory ended.
And what he saw next—
Destroyed him.
Because another person entered the frame.
A teacher.
Male.
Face blurred by rain.
The teacher grabbed Sarthak violently by the shoulders.
Shouting something.
Then—
Sarthak pushed him away aggressively.
The teacher slipped.
Near the wet edge.
And disappeared from the frame.
Silence.
The camera shook violently afterward.
Like the person recording panicked.
Then—
The video ended.
Sarthak stared at the dark screen.
Not breathing.
"…No…"
Ananya looked shaken too.
"…That teacher…"
But Sarthak barely heard her.
Because suddenly—
Everything made horrifying sense.
The missing ten minutes.
The erased memory.
The obsession.
Someone else got hurt that night.
Maybe worse.
And he could not remember what happened after.
A vibration.
Burner phone.
Incoming message.
Unknown sender.
Sarthak opened it slowly.
"Now you understand."
Another message arrived immediately.
"You were never just a witness."
Heartbeat.
Loud.
Violent.
"You were part of the incident too."
Sarthak's hands trembled slightly for the first time in years.
Because deep down—
A terrifying thought had begun forming.
What if the reason everyone blamed him…
Was not entirely false?
"…Sarthak," Ananya said carefully.
But he stood abruptly.
Chair scraping harshly across the floor.
"…Who was that teacher?"
Ananya hesitated.
Then answered quietly.
"…Mr. Kurose."
Silence.
"…He disappeared after that night."
Cold rushed through Sarthak's body instantly.
Disappeared.
Not transferred.
Not resigned.
Disappeared.
And suddenly—
The story transformed into something far darker.
Not suicide.
Not revenge.
But a buried incident involving multiple people—
And possibly—
Another victim.
Sarthak stared at the rain outside the classroom windows.
Expression unreadable now.
Because the biggest fear was no longer the sender.
Or the truth.
It was himself.
To be continued…