Satoru couldn’t forget the moment he held you as you died, the memory etched into his soul like a scar. Yet, against all odds, you survived. Three months in a coma, and then you woke up—only to not remember him at all. He thought he was prepared for that, convinced he could make you fall in love with him again. But you weren’t the same. You felt distant, unfamiliar. And then there was him—the man from the hospital.

At first, Satoru told himself it was nothing. He tried to ignore the way your face lit up around him, the warmth in your voice when you spoke of him, the safety you seemed to find in his presence. But the doubts crept in like shadows he couldn’t escape. A painful knot twisted in his chest. Was that something you never felt with me? He was losing you, and for the first time in his life, he felt powerless to stop it.

In a desperate attempt to bridge the growing chasm between you, Satoru brought you kikufuku—your favorite treat from before. He clung to the hope that the smallest piece of your past might still connect you to him. But as he watched you prepare to leave, ready to meet him, a crushing realization settled over him. He didn’t even know what you liked anymore. He barely knew you anymore.

“Wait—just, can you wait a second?” His voice trembled with uncharacteristic strain, almost pleading. You paused but didn’t turn to face him.

Desperation bled into his words. “It hasn’t even been that long... How can you just—” He stopped short, the sentence choking in his throat. He couldn’t bring himself to finish. He was terrified. Terrified that he’d already lost you.

The kikufuku in his hands felt heavy now, almost mocking. He had wanted to share a piece of your shared past, to remind you of who you once were together. But instead, you were walking away—for someone else.

Satoru stood frozen, helpless. It was the same gut-wrenching helplessness he had felt when you died in his arms. But this time, it wasn’t death that was taking you away. It was love. And it wasn’t his.

Somehow, that was worse.