The room remained quiet.
The Archivist opened her notebook.
A pen rested between her fingers.
Waiting.
"Tell me everything."
Sakura lowered her gaze.
Where was she supposed to begin?
With the accident?
The wedding?
Their first meeting?
There were too many memories.
Too many moments.
Too many pieces.
Yet when she opened her mouth, the first thing she spoke about wasn't any of those.
"He liked drawing."
The Archivist's pen moved.
"He was an artist."
A small smile appeared on Sakura's face.
"He used to carry a sketchbook everywhere."
The memory surfaced naturally.
As if someone had opened a door.
"Whenever we traveled, he'd stop constantly."
The Archivist looked up.
"Constantly?"
"Constantly."
Sakura nodded.
"There could be a mountain."
A pause.
"A river."
Another.
"A flower."
Another.
"A weird-looking dog."
The Archivist's pen paused.
"A dog?"
"He drew everything."
For the first time, a faint smile appeared on the Archivist's face.
A very small one.
But it was there.
The stories continued.
One memory became another.
Then another.
Then another.
Before Sakura realized it, nearly an hour had passed.
She talked about their first apartment.
Their arguments.
Their dates.
The time Haruto accidentally burned dinner.
The time she accidentally made soup so salty that neither of them could finish it.
The memory made her laugh.
A genuine laugh.
One she hadn't expected.
"He still ate it."
The Archivist raised an eyebrow.
"Why?"
"Because he didn't want me to feel bad."
The woman considered this.
Then wrote something down.
Eventually, the conversation slowed.
The easy memories faded.
The difficult ones remained.
Sakura's smile gradually disappeared.
The room became quieter.
"He...."
She couldn't bring herself to say it.
The words felt heavier than expected.
Even after all these years.
Even after everything.
They still hurt.
The Archivist remained silent.
Listening.
Waiting.
Allowing Sakura to continue.
"We had just gotten married."
Sakura stared at the desk.
At the notebook.
At anything except her own memories.
"It was supposed to be the beginning."
Her voice softened.
"Instead it was the end."
The room fell silent.
Only the scratching of the Archivist's pen remained.
After several moments, Sakura finally looked up.
"Do you know where he is?"
The question escaped before she could stop it.
The question she had wanted to ask from the very beginning.
The question she had carried for years.
The question she feared hearing the answer to.
The Archivist stopped writing.
For the first time since the conversation began.
The pen became still.
"I do not know."
Sakura's heart sank.
The answer hurt.
Even though she had expected it.
The Archivist continued.
"But..."
The single word immediately caught Sakura's attention.
"There is something unusual."
The woman closed the notebook.
Slowly.
Carefully.
As though organizing her thoughts.
"You are not the first person to arrive from beyond."
Sakura froze.
"What?"
The Archivist stood.
Walking toward one of the shelves.
She removed a thin folder.
Old.
Worn.
Frequently used.
"Most arrive alone."
The folder opened.
Several pages rested inside.
Names.
Dates.
Notes.
Records.
"Some live ordinary lives."
The Archivist turned a page.
"Some disappear."
Another page.
"Some become important."
Then she stopped.
"None arrived as a pair."
The room became quiet.
Very quiet.
Sakura stared.
"A pair?"
The woman nodded.
"You and Haruto."
A pause.
"The records describe only one arrival at a time."
For some reason, that frightened Sakura more than she expected.
The Archivist returned to the desk.
Placing the folder between them.
"If Haruto arrived in Asterra..."
Her silver eyes met Sakura's.
"...then his existence would be unprecedented."
The word sounded important.
Dangerously important.
Sakura lowered her gaze.
Toward the blue stone in her palm.
For years she had hoped.
Prayed.
Wondered.
Now she had something new.
Not certainty.
Not proof.
But possibility.
The Archivist noticed the stone.
Her gaze lingered for a moment.
Longer than before.
"Where did you get that?"
Sakura blinked.
"The stone?"
The woman nodded.
"It was with me."
Sakura touched it instinctively.
"I found it after arriving."
The Archivist became unusually still.
Something had changed.
Sakura could feel it.
The woman stood.
Walked toward a nearby shelf.
Then returned carrying a small wooden box.
Ancient carvings covered its surface.
Symbols Sakura couldn't read.
The Archivist placed it carefully upon the desk.
"Open it."
Sakura hesitated.
Then lifted the lid.
Inside rested a single object.
A blue stone.
Identical to her own.
The room fell silent.
Sakura stared.
Then looked down at the stone.
Then back at the box.
Same shape.
Same color.
Same glow.
Impossible.
The Archivist slowly closed the lid.
"For centuries, only one of those existed."
Her voice was calm.
Yet something beneath it felt different.
Concerned.
Almost cautious.
Then her gaze shifted toward Sakura's palm.
"Now there are two."