Time.
It is something most people rarely consider.
Perhaps because we are given so much of it…
or at least, we believe we are.
Moments pass. Days blur together.
And before we realize it, it's gone.
Yet time does not simply disappear.
It lingers in the quietest corner of the mind and lives on in another name… as fragments.
And through those fragments…we come to understand how we've lived, what we've liked…
How we've loved.
What is this other name?
Memory.
If you're reading this, look closely. Even if you don't remember it. Remember the sensation—what it looked like, what it seemed like…
What it felt like.
***
"M—"
"Mi—"
"Mira—!"
"Huh? What?" the girl flinched in her seat, attention still half on the book while the other half was focused on the voice that called out to her.
"Mira, the break's over. A lot of customers are coming in and we really need you on the floor right now. Think you can help us?"
"Right, sorry. It completely slipped my mind."
She glanced down at the book again. For a second, just a second, it felt like she'd been reading something important.
Something that she wasn't supposed to forget.
"The Shape of Memory, huh…"
She set the book down before finally putting on her apron and the small little badge that was engraved with her name.
Mira.
"Hey! Are you coming!" the same voice rang out from beyond the other side of the wooden door, clearly a bit panicked and definitely overwhelmed.
"Coming!"
She put on her hat before sliding her ponytail through the gap. Before pushing the somewhat heavy wooden doors forward into her second shift of the day.
The café was somehow a lot busier today and Mira didn't really know why. Apparently, some of the regulars were confused too.
"…Did something happen?"
"For real? You didn't hear?" someone near the counter laughed. "There's a signing next door. Some famous author or something."
"Oh."
That made sense. Probably.
The line must've been long enough that people gave up and came here instead, escaping the summer heat while waiting it out.
Well, it has nothing to do with me, really.
She quickly cleared one of the tables, placing everything onto her tray before reaching back again. Mira let out a quiet snort, like she'd caught herself doing something pointless, and carried the tray over to the sink.
"Mira, could you take this order real quick?"
"Yeah, I got it."
She picked up a new tray, making sure to look at the receipt to find what table it was supposed to be at.
Alright, table 8.
Mira glanced around trying to spot the small numbers underneath the tables before she finally found it.
She strolled over to said table before dropping off the drink.
"Here's your Iced Americano, have a good day."
But even as she said it, Mira felt inclined to stay. The customer she'd delivered the drink to seemed to be around his early twenties, about her age.
He wore a beige cardigan along with blue jeans. But what caught her attention wasn't his looks… it was what he was doing.
Reading.
"Kagami…" she accidentally muttered aloud.
The boy shifted in his seat before peering from behind the book. He closed it, taking a glance at the front cover before his eyes moved back to her.
"Do you…read her books too?"
"N—no, I don't. I'm not really…good with books,"
The boy studied her for a second, his head tilting slightly. "…Then why did you say her name?"
Mira froze.
"I—"
"I–I'm sorry for disturbing you," she said quickly, dipping her head as she took a small step back. "I'll just let you continue—"
"Do you…"
His voice stopped her before she could turn.
"...want to know a bit more about this story?"
It didn't make sense. She didn't read or care for books really. She shouldn't have even stayed this long.
And yet.
"...just a little," she muttered, almost too quietly for anyone to hear.
But he'd somehow caught it.
Without her asking, he began. "The book is actually interesting, as it's told in the perspective of a wave."
He paused briefly, like he was deciding what he should tell her to keep her interested. "See, it would come in every day, at the exact same time."
"The shore would always be different. Sometimes there were small shapes…sometimes entire castles."
His fingers lightly tapped the edge of the book. "Some of them were…really intricate and thoughtful."
"Yet…the wave erased them all the same."
Mira had found herself sitting in the seat opposite him without ever realizing it.
"The next day, it came back again…And there was always something new waiting for it."
"Whoever keeps creating those sand castles must be stupid then?" Mira remarked.
The boy stared at her. For a second, she thought that she'd somehow said something wrong or that the comment she made offended him.
But he just laughed softly to himself.
"Yeah, maybe they were."
Mira frowned slightly, trying to make out the contents of the book and what he'd just told her.
Why would someone even read a book like this?
But the more she thought about it, the more she couldn't explain why. Before Mira could say anything, a voice cut through the café.
"Wait, what do you mean it's canceled?"
Another voice followed louder than the first.
"You've got to be kidding me. We both took a day off just to go to the signing and wait for hours, and this is what we get?"
"They just put up the posters yesterday," someone else scoffed. "How do you cancel something like that overnight?"
Mira blinked, her attention instinctively drifting toward the other table.
"Apparently, the author didn't show up," one of them muttered, clearly irritated. "Her agency said they'd called her but she never picked up. Almost like she'd disappeared completely."
"Seriously? That's it?"
"What kind of person just… doesn't show up?"
Chairs scraped lightly against the floor as a few of them stood up, grabbing their things.
"Unbelievable," one of them said under their breath before pushing the door open and stepping out into the heat.
Mira remained still for a while before her eyes drifted to the empty table left by the customers that left.
"…I should get that," she said quietly, more to herself than anyone else.
She stood and then paused—
For a brief moment, she couldn't remember why she had sat down in the first place.
"...Right."
Mira turned back slightly. "Sorry, I—"
"Don't worry."
The boy had already stood up. He picked up his Ice Americano before angling toward the door.
"I was just about to leave anyway."
He glanced down at the book once more before closing it and putting it inside his bag. "I enjoyed the coffee. Good luck with your shift."
"..."
Mira stood there. He was already a few steps away. She should've let him go. There really was no reason to stop him, no reason to care.
And yet—
"Wait!"
The words slipped out before she could stop it, before she realized she'd even said it at all.
"...What was the ending?" she asked, voice dropping almost to a whisper. "Of the story."
The boy paused, his fingers already on the door's handle, before he turned. The expression on his face was not something she could quite describe. It wasn't quite a smile, yet it looked like one.
He reached into his bag, pulling the book out once more before holding it out toward her.
"…You should read it yourself."
She hesitated for only a moment before reaching out. Her fingers brushed lightly against his as she took the book.
It was warm.
"…Thank you."
The boy simply nodded and turned. "It's better if you don't rush it. Take your time."
Ding!
The bell above the door chimed softly as he stepped out, sound fading as the door swung shut right behind.
Mira stood there for a second longer, the book resting in her hands before she finally decided to take a glimpse.
The Shape of Memory
by Mihara Kagami.
"The Shape of Memory, huh…"