Sakura stared at the sketch.
Her fingers tightened around the paper.
The drawing itself was simple.
A man beneath a tree.
A sketchbook resting on his lap.
Nothing remarkable.
Nothing definitive.
And yet she couldn't look away.
Because she knew that posture.
She knew that habit.
Haruto always sat like that when he drew.
One leg raised.
The sketchbook balanced against his knee.
Completely focused on whatever had caught his attention.
A mountain.
A river.
A bird.
A strange-looking rock.
Anything.
Everything.
The memory surfaced so naturally that it hurt.
Rowan watched her carefully.
"You recognize it."
It wasn't a question.
Sakura slowly nodded.
"Maybe."
The word felt frustratingly small.
Because maybe wasn't enough.
Maybe wasn't proof.
Maybe wasn't certainty.
But it was more than she'd had yesterday.
And much more than she'd had for the past several years.
Rowan leaned against the balcony railing.
"The Archivist thought you might."
"The Archivist showed you this?"
"No."
He shook his head.
"I showed her."
That immediately caught Sakura's attention.
"You did?"
Rowan nodded.
"A few months after I arrived in Aurelis."
He glanced toward the sketch.
"I found it while mapping trade routes near the Northern Expanse."
The desert.
Again.
Everything seemed to point toward the desert.
Sakura carefully folded the sketch.
"Can you tell me exactly where?"
Rowan winced.
That wasn't encouraging.
"What?"
"The problem is..."
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I can't."
Sakura blinked.
"What do you mean you can't?"
"I mean I genuinely don't know."
That answer sounded ridiculous.
Apparently Rowan agreed.
Because he immediately looked annoyed.
"Trust me, I've been frustrated about it for years."
The cartographer gestured toward the city below.
"I make maps."
A pause.
"My entire profession revolves around knowing where things are."
Another pause.
"So imagine how much I hate not knowing where I found something."
That was fair.
Still frustrating.
But fair.
Sakura frowned.
"You forgot?"
Rowan was quiet.
Then nodded.
"That's the strange part."
The wind carried the distant sounds of the city around them.
Ships moved through the strait below.
Life continued.
Unaware.
Rowan looked toward the horizon.
"I remember the trip."
"I remember the weather."
"I remember the people I traveled with."
He paused.
"I even remember what I ate."
Sakura stared.
Then—
"I don't remember the location."
The words settled heavily between them.
Because that wasn't normal.
Not even slightly.
Rowan laughed softly.
Without humor.
"I checked my journals."
"I checked my maps."
"I checked every record I made during that expedition."
His expression darkened.
"The information should be there."
Sakura's heart sank.
"Should be?"
"It isn't."
Silence.
The sketch suddenly felt heavier.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
As though it carried more significance than a simple drawing should.
After several moments, Rowan sighed.
"Come on."
"What?"
"The Archivist will want to hear this."
Without waiting for an answer, he turned and headed back into the archives.
Sakura followed.
The folded sketch remained firmly in her grasp.
Almost as though she feared it might disappear.
The thought was ridiculous.
Yet she couldn't shake it.
They crossed several corridors before reaching the Archivist's office.
Rowan knocked once.
A voice immediately responded.
"Enter."
The two stepped inside.
The Archivist looked up from her desk.
Her gaze moved from Rowan.
To Sakura.
To the sketch in Sakura's hand.
Then she nodded.
As though something had been confirmed.
"You recognized it."
Again.
Not a question.
Sakura was beginning to suspect nobody in this building believed in questions.
Only statements disguised as questions.
"It reminds me of someone."
The Archivist glanced toward Rowan.
"That is enough."
Rowan dropped into a nearby chair.
"That's what I told her."
Sakura looked between them.
"You already discussed this?"
"Repeatedly."
Rowan groaned.
"For three years."
The Archivist ignored him.
As usual.
"Tell me something, Sakura."
The silver-haired woman folded her hands.
"When you looked at that sketch..."
Her eyes met Sakura's.
"What did you feel first?"
The question seemed strange.
Yet the answer arrived immediately.
"Relief."
The room became quiet.
The Archivist nodded.
"Not certainty."
"No."
"Not joy."
"No."
The woman leaned back slightly.
"Relief."
Sakura lowered her gaze.
Toward the folded paper.
"Because if that sketch really was connected to Haruto..."
She swallowed.
"...then it means he existed here."
The words felt fragile.
Dangerous.
Hopeful.
The Archivist was silent for a long moment.
Then she stood.
Walking toward a shelf.
After a moment, she returned carrying a small book.
Unlike most books in the room, this one looked new.
Recently written.
Recently used.
She placed it on the desk.
The title read:
**Known Arrivals Beyond the Veil**
Sakura froze.
Rowan sat upright.
Even he looked surprised.
The Archivist opened the book.
Page after page contained names.
Notes.
Dates.
Observations.
Some entries were detailed.
Others barely contained a few lines.
Then she turned to the final page.
Blank.
Completely blank.
The woman picked up a pen.
And began writing.
Sakura watched silently.
The scratching of ink filled the room.
After several moments, the Archivist finished.
Then turned the book around.
For Sakura to read.
A new entry rested upon the final page.
**Subject: Haruto**
**Status: Unconfirmed**
**Evidence: Ongoing**
Beneath it rested a single sentence.
The Archivist's handwriting was neat.
Elegant.
Precise.
Yet the words made Sakura's heart stop.
> If he exists, then history has repeated itself.
The room fell silent.
Because suddenly—
finding Haruto no longer felt like a personal matter.
It felt like the beginning of something much larger.