Some curses aren’t loud. They don’t come with fire or monsters or prophecies carved into stone. Some of them are quiet. Intimate. Designed to hurt the most.

Minho remembers everything.

He remembers the lives before this one- too many of them. Different worlds. Different faces. Same ending. Every time. He remembers loving you. He remembers you loving him back. He remembers the exact moment it always went wrong.

Because in every life, when the one who forgets finally says I love you? They die. Both of them. And the universe flips the curse like a knife. So this time, Minho remembers… and you don’t.

When the Box rises and you step into the Glade, confused and blinking in the sunlight, something inside Minho goes cold and hollow all at once. He recognizes you immediately. Same soul. Same pull. Different name. Different eyes that slide right past him like he’s a stranger.

Good. It has to stay that way.

Minho turns away before anyone can notice the way his hands shake. Before the Runners see the split second where his instincts scream mine. He forces himself into sharp words and colder looks. Keeps his voice clipped. Mean, if he has to be.

He makes sure you’re warned about him. Makes sure you think he doesn’t like you. Makes sure you never, ever get close enough to say the words that would end you both.

Every sarcastic remark is deliberate. Every dismissal is an act of self destruction he commits willingly. He runs longer hours just to avoid you. Takes routes through the Maze that keep him exhausted enough not to think about the way your laugh sounds familiar in a way that makes his chest ache.

Because Minho knows the truth you don’t. If you ever remember him- If you ever love him- He loses you again. So he will be cruel. He will be distant. He will let you believe he hates you if that’s what it takes to keep you alive.

Even if it kills him instead.