The city stretched endlessly beneath a dimming sky, filled with the constant rhythm of movement as cars flowed through the streets, people spoke over one another in overlapping conversations, and distant lights flickered against the approaching night, yet despite all of this noise and activity, Hat Yai stood completely still atop an old apartment rooftop, his hands resting inside his pockets as he quietly observed the horizon with an expression that revealed neither excitement nor boredom but instead something far deeper, something closer to quiet patience.
Behind him, footsteps approached with a casual rhythm, followed by a familiar voice breaking the silence as a classmate spoke up, saying, "You're always here at this time… every single day, like clockwork. Don't you ever get bored just standing around doing nothing?"
Hat Yai did not immediately respond, continuing to stare into the distance before finally answering in a calm and measured tone, "Boredom only exists when you expect something to happen, but I'm not waiting for anything in particular."
The boy frowned at that, crossing his arms slightly as he leaned closer and replied, "That doesn't make any sense. If you're not waiting for anything, then why do you come here every day? There's gotta be a reason."
Hat Yai remained silent for a brief moment, his gaze still fixed on the horizon, before he spoke again in a quieter voice, saying, "I come here because it feels like something should happen here… even if I don't know what that something is."
The boy blinked, clearly not satisfied with the answer, and muttered, "You're really weird, you know that?"
"…I've been told that before," Hat Yai replied calmly.
The wind brushed across the rooftop in a soft and gentle current, carrying with it a subtle shift in the atmosphere that neither of them immediately recognized, but as the silence stretched on, the boy suddenly tilted his head and said, "Hey… is it just me, or did it get colder all of a sudden?"
Hat Yai did not respond, but his eyes slowly moved upward.
The sky dimmed.
Not naturally.
Something had changed.
The boy followed Hat Yai's gaze and froze as he noticed it too, his voice lowering as he spoke with uncertainty, "The sky… why does it look like that…?"
Above them, the moon began to rise, but instead of its usual pale glow, a faint blue light began to spread across its surface, slowly intensifying until the entire celestial body seemed to shift into something unfamiliar and unnatural, causing the boy's voice to tremble as he stepped back and said, "Okay… that's not normal… that is definitely not normal."
Hat Yai remained completely still, his expression unchanged, though something subtle flickered within his eyes as he whispered under his breath, "So it's tonight…"
The boy turned sharply toward him, panic beginning to creep into his voice as he asked, "What do you mean 'tonight'? Do you know what that is?!"
Hat Yai didn't answer immediately, instead raising his hand slightly as if testing something unseen, and when the boy saw this, he stepped back again and said, "Hey—don't do anything weird! What are you doing?!"
Hat Yai ignored him, his voice calm and quiet as he spoke a single word, "Show me."
For a moment, nothing happened.
And then—
The world reacted.
A pulse of blue light spread across the sky, causing the wind to surge violently as if reality itself had been disturbed, and the rooftop trembled beneath their feet while the boy stumbled backward, shouting, "WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?!"
But before Hat Yai could respond, the entire environment flickered—just for a split second—the buildings below distorting and warping as though the world had been torn like a fragile image before snapping back into place.
The boy gasped, his breathing uneven as he looked around wildly, "Did you see that?! The buildings—everything just—what the hell is happening?!"
Hat Yai slowly lowered his hand, his expression remaining calm despite the chaos, and he replied in an almost detached tone, "I didn't do anything."
The boy turned toward him immediately, frustration and fear mixing in his voice as he said, "Don't give me that! Something happened, and it started the moment you raised your hand!"
Hat Yai finally met his gaze, his eyes calm but distant as he spoke again, "I didn't create it… I think it responded."
The boy froze, staring at him in confusion and disbelief as he whispered, "Responded…? Responded to what?"
Hat Yai did not answer.
Because somewhere far above them—
The Blue Moon pulsed once more, as though acknowledging something unseen.
And deep within the fabric of reality itself, something ancient quietly stirred.
The wind slowly died down after the sudden surge, leaving the rooftop in an eerie stillness that felt unnatural in contrast to the chaos that had just occurred, and as the boy struggled to steady his breathing, his eyes darting between Hat Yai and the sky, he finally spoke in a shaken voice, "That wasn't normal… whatever just happened, that wasn't something people can do."
Hat Yai stood quietly, his gaze still directed toward the Blue Moon as though he were listening to something no one else could hear, before he responded in a calm tone, "I didn't say it was normal."
The boy frowned, clearly unsettled, and stepped closer again, lowering his voice as he asked, "Then explain it. If you're involved in this, you need to explain what just happened."
Hat Yai hesitated for a moment, not because he didn't want to answer, but because he didn't have a clear answer to give, and after a brief silence, he finally said, "Something changed when I spoke."
The boy immediately shook his head, raising his voice slightly as he replied, "Something changed?! You made the sky react! That's not something that just 'changes'!"
Hat Yai turned slightly toward him, his expression still calm, and answered, "I didn't make it react… I think it was already waiting."
The boy went completely silent at that, staring at Hat Yai as if trying to figure out whether he was serious or not, before finally saying, "Waiting for what…?"
But before Hat Yai could respond, something subtle happened.
The moon pulsed again.
Not as violently as before, but more… deliberately.
And this time—
Hat Yai felt it clearly.
A faint pressure spread across the air, like the world itself was holding its breath, and the boy noticed it too as he glanced upward and muttered, "It's happening again… why is it getting darker like that…?"
The glow of the Blue Moon deepened, shifting from a faint blue to something richer and more intense, as if it were growing aware of its surroundings, and then, without warning, the air around Hat Yai shimmered faintly, almost like heat rising from the ground, causing the boy to step back again as he said, "Okay… okay, this is getting worse. We need to get off this rooftop right now."
Hat Yai didn't move.
Instead, he spoke softly, almost to himself, "It's stronger than before."
The boy grabbed his arm this time, trying to pull him away, saying, "Forget stronger! Something weird is happening, and I am not sticking around to find out what—"
But before he could finish, the air shifted again.
This time, more sharply.
A quiet voice echoed.
Not from the rooftop.
Not from the city.
But from everywhere at once.
"...Hat Yai..."
Both of them froze.
The boy's grip tightened as he whispered, "Did… did you hear that?"
Hat Yai slowly lifted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as he scanned the sky, but he didn't answer immediately, because deep down, he knew that voice was not something ordinary.
Then, in a low, controlled tone, he asked, "Who's there?"
There was no immediate reply.
Only silence.
And then—
The voice returned.
Calm.
Distant.
Unnatural.
"...You finally spoke."
The boy's face went pale as he whispered, "No… no way… you're hearing that too, right?"
Hat Yai didn't respond to him.
His focus was entirely on the sky now, his voice steady as he spoke again, "If you're speaking, then show yourself."
A brief pause followed.
And then—
The Blue Moon pulsed one more time.
This time, the rooftop dimmed.
Not in darkness.
But in depth.
Like the world itself had gained a second layer.
The voice spoke again, quieter this time, almost like it was smiling.
"...You don't remember… do you?"
Hat Yai's eyes sharpened slightly.
"…Remember what?"
The air grew heavier.
And for the first time since the beginning—
Something inside Hat Yai felt like it recognized the situation.
Not fully.
But enough.
The voice didn't answer immediately.
Instead, it lingered in the silence before finally saying,
"...This is your second time."
The boy blinked, confused and frightened. "Second time? What is that supposed to mean?! What are you talking about?!"
But Hat Yai didn't react.
Because deep inside, something had just shifted.
Something small.
Something dangerous.
"…What are you?" Hat Yai asked.
And this time—
The voice answered without hesitation.
"...Something you called… a long time ago."
The Blue Moon dimmed slightly.
As if it were listening.
And Hat Yai—
For the first time—
Felt something like doubt.
The rooftop remained suspended in an unnatural silence after the voice faded, as if the world itself was waiting for something to happen next, and even the distant sounds of the city below felt muted and distant, like they belonged to another place entirely, while Hat Yai stood motionless, his eyes fixed on the Blue Moon as though he were searching for an answer hidden somewhere within its glow.
The boy, however, was no longer calm.
His breathing was uneven, his voice barely stable as he spoke, "You called it… didn't you? That voice just now… it said you called it."
Hat Yai didn't respond immediately, but when he finally spoke, his voice carried a subtle weight that hadn't been there before, "I don't remember calling anything."
The boy's frustration grew as he stepped closer again, his tone more urgent, "Then why did it say that?! Why would something out there say you summoned it if you didn't?!"
Hat Yai lowered his gaze slightly, as if trying to reach something buried deep within his own mind, and after a moment of silence, he replied in a quieter tone, "Because it believes I did."
The boy frowned, confused and increasingly uneasy, "That doesn't make any sense… what does that even mean?"
Before Hat Yai could answer, the air around them shifted again, this time not violently but with a slow and deliberate pressure, like something vast was pressing gently against reality itself, and the Blue Moon above pulsed once more, though this time the light it emitted felt less like illumination and more like observation.
Hat Yai felt it.
Not just the presence.
But the attention.
"…You are closer than before."
The voice returned.
Clearer now.
Stronger.
And unmistakably aware.
The boy immediately backed away, whispering in disbelief, "It's talking again… why is it talking again?!"
Hat Yai raised his head slightly, his voice calm but more focused now as he responded, "If you can speak, then answer me properly. What are you, and why are you here?"
There was a brief pause.
Then—
The voice responded, softer this time, almost as if it were studying him.
"...I am what remains… when time refuses to forget."
The boy blinked, confused. "What kind of answer is that supposed to be?! That doesn't explain anything!"
But Hat Yai didn't react to the boy's frustration.
Instead, his expression changed slightly, not dramatically, but enough to show that something had clicked.
"…Time," he repeated quietly.
The air seemed to react to that word alone.
The Blue Moon pulsed again.
And this time—
Hat Yai felt something.
A memory.
Not fully formed.
Not clear.
But enough to make his chest tighten slightly as fragments began to surface—images without context, places without names, moments without a beginning or end.
He whispered, almost inaudibly, "…I've heard that before."
The boy looked at him, startled. "What do you mean you've heard that before?! From who?!"
But Hat Yai didn't answer.
Because the fragments were growing stronger.
A city.
Different.
Broken.
Time distorted in layers.
A version of himself standing under a Blue Moon that looked far older… far more powerful.
"…This is your second time."
The voice repeated.
Hat Yai's eyes widened slightly.
Just for a moment.
But it was enough.
"…I died?"
The boy froze completely, his voice barely a whisper as he asked, "What did you just say…?"
Hat Yai didn't respond to him.
His focus was elsewhere now.
Trying to piece together something that refused to stay whole.
The voice spoke again, this time with a tone that carried something closer to certainty.
"...Not death. Return."
The Blue Moon brightened.
Stronger this time.
More direct.
Hat Yai clenched his hand slightly, his voice quieter now, but more grounded, "Return from where?"
The voice paused.
And for the first time—
It hesitated.
"…You don't need to remember everything yet."
The boy shook his head, panic rising again as he shouted, "No, no, no—this is getting worse! You're talking like you're part of this, like you actually understand what's going on, but I don't understand anything! What is happening to you?!"
Hat Yai turned his head slightly toward him.
And for the first time—
There was something different in his expression.
Not fear.
Not confusion.
But recognition.
"…I think," Hat Yai said slowly, "…this isn't the first time I've heard you."
Silence.
The boy's face went pale.
"…What?"
Hat Yai stared at him, but not in the way he had before.
This time, it felt like he was seeing through him.
Like he was searching through something layered… something deeper than just the present moment.
"…You shouldn't be here," Hat Yai said quietly.
The boy's voice trembled. "What are you talking about…?"
Hat Yai's gaze shifted back to the Blue Moon.
And in that moment—
Something inside him aligned.
The voice returned one last time.
Lower.
Clearer.
And final.
"...Now you are beginning to remember."
The Blue Moon flared once more—
And the world flickered.
Just for an instant—
Hat Yai saw it.
Not the present.
Not the city.
But something beyond it.
A version of himself.
Standing under a Blue Moon that filled the entire sky.
Watching.
Waiting.
And then—
Everything snapped back to normal.
Hat Yai blinked once.
Then slowly lowered his hand.
"…So it's true," he said quietly.
The boy, shaken and desperate, grabbed his arm again. "What's true?! What are you talking about?! Answer me!"
Hat Yai looked at him.
And this time—
He gave a small, almost unnoticeable answer.
"…I think I've done this before."
The Blue Moon above dimmed slightly.
As if it had just confirmed something.
And somewhere beyond the sky—
Something began to move.
The rooftop remained suspended in a strange, fragile silence after the last pulse of the Blue Moon faded, leaving behind an atmosphere that felt heavier than before, as if the very air had gained weight and depth, and Hat Yai stood motionless as he processed the fragments of memory that had surfaced within him, while the boy beside him continued to struggle to comprehend what he had just witnessed, his breathing uneven and his voice shaking as he spoke, "You can't just say something like that… 'you've done this before'… that doesn't make any sense… none of this makes any sense."
Hat Yai slowly exhaled, his gaze still directed toward the Blue Moon as he responded in a calm but noticeably more thoughtful tone, "I didn't say I understand it yet… I said I think I've done it before," and when the boy immediately shot back, "Then explain it properly! If you've done this before, then what exactly is happening to you?!" Hat Yai paused briefly, as though weighing his words carefully before answering, "I don't have a complete answer, but something about this feels familiar… like a pattern I'm only now beginning to recognize."
The boy stared at him in disbelief, shaking his head as he muttered, "A pattern…? You're talking like this is normal," but Hat Yai shook his head slightly and replied, "No, it isn't normal… but it might not be new either," and the moment those words were spoken, the air around them seemed to subtly shift again, not violently this time, but with a quiet pressure that made the boy instinctively step back as he said, "I don't like that… whatever that thing is, it keeps reacting to you."
Hat Yai did not deny it, instead raising his hand slightly once more as if testing the air itself, and when the boy saw the movement, he quickly warned, "Hey, don't do that again! Last time you did that, everything almost broke apart!" yet Hat Yai did not stop, and instead spoke in a low, controlled voice, "If something is responding, then there must be something to respond to," and as he finished speaking, the Blue Moon above them pulsed once more, not as violently as before, but with a deeper and more deliberate resonance that seemed to ripple through the fabric of reality itself.
This time, however, nothing visibly shattered or distorted, and instead, the changes were far more subtle yet far more dangerous, as the boy suddenly froze and whispered, "Wait… do you feel that…?" while Hat Yai remained still, his expression focused as he replied, "Yes… the world is… aligning," though the word he chose did not fully capture the sensation, because what they were experiencing felt less like alignment and more like synchronization, as if two separate things were gradually beginning to overlap.
Then, without warning, Hat Yai's vision shifted again, and this time the memory fragment that surfaced was clearer than before, showing him standing alone in a vast expanse beneath a Blue Moon that appeared far larger and more dominant than the one above them now, while a voice echoed in that memory—identical to the one he was hearing in the present—speaking to him with the same calm and distant tone, "You called me… just as before," and this time, Hat Yai did not question it immediately, because something deep inside him began to accept the possibility that this was not the first time this conversation had taken place.
The boy, noticing Hat Yai's sudden stillness, shook his arm lightly and demanded, "Hey! Don't zone out on me like that! What's going on in your head right now?!" and Hat Yai blinked once, returning to the present as he replied, "Something just came back… another fragment," which only made the boy more frustrated as he said, "Fragments of what?! Your memory? Your past? What are you even remembering?!"
Hat Yai lowered his gaze slightly before answering, "I don't know… but it feels like something that has happened before, and something that will happen again," and the moment he said that, the voice returned, not loudly, but with a quiet certainty that cut through the silence as it spoke directly into the space between them, saying, "Correct… cycles do not break easily… especially when you are the one who started them."
The boy's face went pale as he whispered, "That thing… it's talking again… and it sounds like it knows you…" while Hat Yai's eyes narrowed slightly as he responded, "If it knows me, then it should explain why I don't remember it clearly," and after a brief pause, the voice answered in a tone that carried something almost like quiet patience, "Because you chose not to… not this time."
A silence followed, heavier than before, as Hat Yai processed those words carefully, while the boy shook his head repeatedly and said, "No, no, no… this is going too far… you don't just 'choose' to forget something like this… that's not how memory works," but Hat Yai, instead of agreeing or disagreeing, simply stated in a quiet voice, "Unless something forces it to," and for the first time, the implication behind his words lingered in the air like an unfinished thought that neither of them fully understood.
The Blue Moon above them dimmed slightly, as though acknowledging that statement, and in that brief moment of stillness, Hat Yai felt something else—something subtle yet undeniable—because deep within his awareness, something had begun to shift into place, as if the scattered fragments of his existence were slowly starting to align, and without fully realizing it, he spoke one final sentence that carried more weight than anything he had said so far, "If this is a cycle… then I need to see how it ends."
And at that moment, somewhere far beyond the visible sky, something answered him again—not with words this time, but with presence, as though the Blue Moon itself had taken notice of his resolve, marking the beginning of something that could no longer remain hidden.
The silence that followed Hat Yai's final words did not feel empty but instead carried a weight that pressed down on both of them, as if the very act of acknowledging the existence of a cycle had caused something unseen to take notice, and while the city below continued its distant, normal rhythm, the rooftop felt completely separated from that reality, existing in a fragile space where time itself seemed uncertain, and Hat Yai stood there without moving, his expression calm yet deeply focused as though he were standing at the edge of something far larger than himself.
The boy, on the other hand, could no longer contain his fear, and he finally spoke with a voice that trembled with both frustration and desperation, saying, "This isn't normal anymore… nothing about this is normal… and if you really think this is some kind of cycle, then what happens next?! What are we supposed to do?!" while Hat Yai slowly turned his head toward him, meeting his gaze with an unusual clarity as he replied, "I don't think we're supposed to do anything… not yet," which only made the boy more confused as he asked, "Then what are we supposed to wait for?! Another one of those things to show up?!"
Hat Yai did not answer immediately, instead lifting his gaze toward the Blue Moon once more, and after a brief pause, he spoke in a calm and measured tone, "No… I think something is already here," and the moment those words were spoken, the air shifted again, not violently but with a quiet and undeniable pressure that made the boy instinctively step back as he whispered, "What do you mean something is here… I don't see anything…" yet Hat Yai's expression remained unchanged as he replied, "You don't need to see it… because it's not trying to be seen."
For a brief moment, nothing happened, and the world seemed almost still again, but then the Blue Moon pulsed one final time, not with force, but with recognition, and as that pulse spread across the sky, Hat Yai felt it clearly—something vast, something ancient, and something undeniably aware was observing him from somewhere far beyond what the human mind could easily comprehend, and this time, instead of fear or confusion, Hat Yai felt something different rising within him, something that resembled understanding, even if it was incomplete.
"…You're still here," Hat Yai said quietly, his voice steady but carrying a subtle weight that suggested this was not the first time he had spoken those words, and in response, the familiar voice returned, no longer distant or uncertain, but calm and direct as it spoke, "I have always been here… waiting for you to remember enough to call me properly."
The boy froze at those words, turning to Hat Yai with wide eyes as he demanded, "Call it properly?! What does that even mean?! You're talking to it like it's something you know!" while Hat Yai lowered his gaze slightly and replied, "Because I think I do… at least, parts of it," and as he said that, the fragments in his mind shifted once again, aligning in a way that allowed him to see just a little bit more than before, though still not enough to grasp the full truth.
The voice then spoke once more, softer this time, yet filled with something that resembled certainty, "You have already taken the first step… the summoning is not complete, but the connection has begun," and as those words echoed across the space between them, the Blue Moon above them dimmed slightly, as if settling into a new state, while Hat Yai stood quietly and asked, "Then what happens now?" to which the voice responded without hesitation, "Now… you will begin to remember."
At that exact moment, the world around them flickered once again, but this time it did not return immediately to normal, and instead, Hat Yai saw it—just for an instant—a version of himself standing beneath a sky filled with a much larger Blue Moon, surrounded by countless broken fragments of reality, while his voice in that vision echoed across time itself, repeating the same question he had just asked, "What happens now?" and the answer returned to him across that fractured space, "Everything… begins."
The flicker ended.
And reality snapped back into place.
The boy gasped, clutching his chest as he looked around in confusion and panic, saying, "What… what was that…? I felt like I was somewhere else for a second…" but Hat Yai did not respond immediately, instead lowering his gaze slightly as if confirming something within himself before finally speaking in a calm, steady voice, "It's started."
The boy looked at him with fear in his eyes, "What's started?! You have to explain this properly now!" and Hat Yai turned his head toward him one last time, his expression calm but no longer completely distant, as he answered, "Something that won't stop until I understand it."
A quiet pause followed.
Then Hat Yai added, almost under his breath, "And maybe… something that was waiting for me all along."
The Blue Moon above them remained steady now, no longer pulsing violently, but instead shining with a quiet, watchful presence, as though it had already decided that the next step belonged to Hat Yai, and somewhere far beyond the boundaries of the sky, something ancient continued to observe in silence, marking the end of what was once normal, and the beginning of something that would no longer allow itself to remain hidden.