It had been raining since morning.
Not a heavy rain—but the kind that fell steadily, as if it had decided to stay all day.
Thir opened the shop as he always did.He wiped the same wooden table, aligned the two chairs to face each other.Everything was unchanged—
until the wooden door creaked softly open.
Lin stood there.
She held a pale umbrella.The edge of her knit sweater was slightly damp.Her light brown hair clung to her cheeks,and her round eyes studied him with an expression that felt like urgency—
as though she were trying to remember somethingbefore it slipped away again.
"Hello…"Her voice was softer than usual.
And strangely—this time, she did not call his name.
Thir frowned, just slightly."You're here earlier than usual today."
Lin nodded. She smiled faintly,but the smile looked misplaced—as if it belonged to a different moment.
"I… wasn't sure if I should come here," she said slowly, choosing each word with care."But it felt like if I didn't… I would lose something important."
A chill crept into Thir's fingertips.
He gestured for her to sit.The same wooden chair.The orange lamp flickered on—a ritual repeated day after day.
"What would you like me to help you with today?" he asked.
Lin stayed silent for a long moment.So long that Thir wondered if she might stand up and leave.
"…I forgot the name of this place," she finally said.
She looked up at him. Her eyes trembled.
"Yesterday, I still remembered it.But today… it's gone.Even though I come here almost every day."
Thir did not answer right away.
He looked at her the way one looks at a fracture.
And yes—he saw it.
A small crack on the gray wall.Right beside a door.
Faint letters were etched there, barely holding together:
Memory connected to one person.
"Lin," he said her name without realizing it.
She startled slightly—then smiled, relief flooding her expression.
"You still remember my name," she said softly.
The words should not have hurt.
But Thir felt a sharp sting in his chest,as if something inside him had been lightly scratched from within.
He placed his hand against her temple.
The sound of glass breaking echoed again.
The gray world opened.
Today, Lin's memory room felt emptier than before.More shards of glass littered the floor.Some pieces were stained with faint traces of blood—
though there should have been none.
Thir walked toward the same door—
when a voice spoke behind him.
"If you open that door again,"said the girl in gray.
She stood in the corner of the room.Long black hair.Eyes still, as if she already knew the ending.
"She will forget more than you expect."
Thir clenched his fist."I'm just helping her."
The girl smiled faintly.
"No one helps anyone for free."
"Then what am I paying with?" he asked.
She tilted her head.
"With the memory you once asked someone else to forget."
Thir froze.
His heart raced—without reason, without memory.
He stepped back from the room,choosing to repair only the smallest fracture,leaving the forbidden door untouched.
When he opened his eyes again,Lin was watching him.
"You look like someone who just lost something," she said quietly.
Thir shook his head."Are you alright?"
She hesitated. Then closed her eyes.
"…I forgot how you like your coffee," she said, laughing dryly, as if trying to turn it into a joke.
But Thir did not laugh.
Because he remembered.
He remembered a cup of coffee prepared for him every morning—by someone who smiled exactly the way Lin did.
And for the first time,he wondered—
what she would forgetnext.