Mira forgot a patient's name.
Then a street she'd walked for years.
Then, one morning, she woke up already grieving.
She went to the bridge.
Hiyoon wasn't there.
Panic clawed up her throat, sharp and unfamiliar.
She waited.
Minutes passed. Then longer.
Finally, a voice behind her said softly, "You remembered too much yesterday."
She turned.
He looked thinner somehow, less certain.
"I'm losing pieces," she said. "Is this what it costs?"
Hiyoon nodded. "It always takes from both sides."
"Then stop," she said, tears rising despite herself. "Disappear if you have to."
He stepped closer, close enough that she could feel him without touching.
"I can't," he said. "Not while you're choosing me."
The city lights flickered.
Somewhere, something important slipped away from Mira's mind forever.
She didn't know what it was.
Only that it was gone.