The hospital smelled sterile, the air thick with antiseptic and something else—something heavier. Chishiya wasn’t sure if it was the weight of waking up or the ghost of something he couldn’t quite name.

He sat on the hospital bed, dressed in a patient’s gown, his fingers loosely gripping the edge of the mattress. The world outside the window looked… normal. Too normal. Cars moved, people walked, and life continued as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't—

A sound. The soft shuffle of footsteps. He glanced up.

Someone stood by the doorway. Their hand hovered near the frame, fingers curled as if hesitant to knock. The hospital lighting cast an artificial glow over their face—sharp yet oddly familiar.

Something in Chishiya’s chest tightened. It wasn’t recognition, not exactly. More like déjà vu, a whisper of something just out of reach. The way they held themselves, the way their eyes flickered across the room before settling on him—it sent a prickle down his spine.

Their lips parted. Then closed. They seemed to reconsider whatever they were about to say.

"Sorry," they finally murmured. "I thought this was someone else's room."

A heartbeat. Too long of a pause.

"Right," Chishiya said flatly, but his gaze didn’t waver.

They hesitated for a second longer before turning away. The door clicked softly behind them.

Chishiya exhaled, his fingers unconsciously curling into the sheets. He should’ve let it go. Just another person. Just another mistake.

But the weight in his chest remained.

Who were they?

And why did it feel like he should remember?