The next day, I woke up feeling like I hadn't slept at all.
It was probably because of yesterday.
Because of her.
I stared at the ceiling, not really thinking—just feeling something heavy sitting in my chest.
I need to know who she is…
—or what she is.
And why she has the same face as her.
I let out a quiet breath.
It's not obsession.
At least… that's what I told myself.
Because if it was, then that would mean I've completely lost it.
No.
It's not that.
It's just…
that feeling you get when you miss someone.
Like something important is gone, but you can't quite reach it anymore.
She wasn't Lila.
She isn't here anymore.
And still—
my chest tightened the same way.
I got out of bed and stretched a little.
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
My parents were out of town for work again, and Karin was still asleep in her room.
I made something simple for breakfast and got ready for school.
"Karin, I'm heading out," I called.
No answer.
Yeah… she's definitely still asleep.
School felt slower than usual.
The teacher was talking, but none of it really stuck. It just sounded like background noise.
My notebook was open, but I hadn't written anything meaningful.
I sighed without realizing it.
"Hey… are you okay?"
I looked up.
Sara was watching me, a bit concerned.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I said quickly. "Just thinking about something."
She didn't look convinced.
"You seem kind of off today, Eli."
"I'm good, really," I said with a small laugh. "Don't worry."
She hesitated, then nodded.
"Alright… but try not to look so gloomy, okay?"
"…Yeah."
But my mind had already drifted somewhere else.
Lila.
Her face.
Her voice.
"Do I know you?"
The way she said it was normal. Casual.
But it didn't feel normal to me.
It felt like something inside me had cracked a little.
When lunch break came, I didn't waste any time.
I stood up and headed straight for the door.
"Eli."
I stopped and turned.
Sara again.
She crossed her arms slightly.
"Don't forget the club," she said. "You've missed a month already. Your mom keeps reminding me. You promised, remember?"
For a second, I just stared at her.
"Oh… right," I said. "Yeah, I'll go."
I gave her a small smile.
"Thanks for reminding me."
And I meant it.
After the accident, Sara had been there the whole time—helping me adjust, checking in, even keeping my mom updated.
She felt more like family at this point.
Still, she looked like she wanted to say something else.
But I turned and walked away.
Because right now—
I had something else I needed to do.
Think.
I walked through the hallway, trying to stay calm.
Same uniform.
Same year.
"She's a freshman…" I muttered.
There were six sections.
1-A to 1-F.
I didn't have much time.
I tried asking a teacher first.
"Ma'am, can I ask something?"
She looked at me. "Sure, what is it?"
"Do you have a list of the freshmen? Or… do you know all of them?"
She shook her head.
"I do, but I can't give that out. You'll need permission from the dean. Maybe tomorrow."
Tomorrow.
"…I see," I said.
But that didn't sit right with me.
Tomorrow felt too far.
I couldn't wait that long.
So I started checking.
1-A.
I stood by the door, glancing inside.
Not there.
1-B.
Still not there.
By the time I passed 1-C, I let out a quiet breath.
"Of course…"
1-D.
Nothing.
A thought crept in.
What if I imagined her?
1-E.
I checked more carefully.
Slowly.
I saw someone for a second—
but it wasn't her.
Still nothing.
As I turned to leave, a girl with red hair noticed me.
"Looking for someone?" she asked.
"Yeah… do you know someone named Lila?"
She paused—
then suddenly raised her voice.
"Hey! Does anyone here know someone named Lila?!"
The whole class looked over.
I froze.
"…Uh…"
No one answered.
"…Never mind," I said quickly. "Thanks."
I left before it got more awkward.
That left one class.
1-F.
For some reason, I slowed down as I got closer.
Like I already knew.
I looked inside.
And there she was.
Near the front. Close to the door.
Alone.
Just quietly writing.
My chest tightened.
Not painfully.
Just enough to make me hesitate.
But I'd come this far.
I stepped closer.
"Hey—"
The word stopped halfway.
Because I realized something.
I didn't even know her name.
A student walked out of the room.
I turned to him.
"Hey, can I ask something?"
"Sure."
"The girl inside… brown hair. What's her name?"
He glanced back.
"Oh, her? She's the class president."
"I mean… her name."
He shrugged.
"She's always alone. Kind of a quiet, serious type. We just call her the class rep."
Then he smirked.
"If you're planning to confess, good luck."
And just like that, he left.
That didn't sound like Lila.
Not at all.
Lila wasn't quiet.
She talked a lot. Laughed at random things. Made everything feel lighter.
This girl…
was different.
But still—
I couldn't just walk away.
I need to talk to her.
Not tomorrow.
Now.
I stepped forward—
—and the bell rang.
Students started moving again.
"No—wait…"
I looked at her.
She hadn't moved.
Just her name.
That's all I needed.
I took another step.
"Hey," I called.
No response.
A few people looked at me.
I swallowed.
"Hey—!"
More heads turned.
My face was starting to heat up.
But I kept going.
"Hey… you—"
I hesitated.
Then—
"Hey, Lila!"
My voice came out louder than I expected.
The whole class heard it.
She looked up.
Our eyes met.
And right away—
I knew.
That look again.
Confused.
Distant.
Like she didn't recognize me at all.
People started whispering.
"Isn't that Eli?"
"The one from the accident?"
"What is he doing?"
I could feel everyone staring.
But I was already here.
No backing out now.
I took a breath.
"…Do you think clouds ever get tired of floating?"
Silence.
She blinked.
"…What?" she said quietly.
A few people laughed.
"Is that a pickup line?"
"Clouds?? Seriously?"
I felt my face burn.
Yeah.
That was bad.
Really bad.
But still—
I pushed through it.
"Just… please meet me after class!"
More whispers.
"Another one…"
"He's done for…"
And I—
ran.
By the time I got back to the hallway, I was out of breath.
I leaned against the wall and covered my face.
"…I really messed that up."
Back in Class 1-F—
she was still looking at the door.
Quiet.
Still.
"…Eli…" she whispered softly.
So that's his name.
It felt unfamiliar.
But not completely.
And somewhere deep inside—
something small began to move.
Like a memory trying to come back.