Part 10: The Echo Of A Forgotten Memory

"Yesterday... Saved me.."

The word barely left his lips before his eyes fluttered and closed.

Connie's breath hitched.

He remembered what happened in the other timeline.

But he shouldn't know it.

There was no way he should know about it.

But he did.

And right now, that terrified her more than anything else.

"Is he okay?!"

The voice snapped Connie back to reality.

A small crowd had gathered. Some of the other customers stood from their seats, whispering. A barista had rushed over, her face pale with concern.

Ayaka was still at their table, eyes wide with shock.

Connie forced herself to focus.

She could panic about that later.

Right now, if she didn't act, the System would reset everything again.

Her hands trembled as she pressed two fingers against his neck.

His pulse was still there.

Weak, but steady.

His breathing—shallow.

He was fading fast.

"Someone call an ambulance!" a woman in the café shouted.

A barista was already dialing.

But as he pressed the call button, the call ended.

"What the—"

Connie's chest tightened.

She knew it wouldn't work.

But she still had a slight hope it would.

The System didn't let her save him this way.

She had to intervene directly.

Her eyes darted across his body.

No wounds. No visible injuries.

Was this poison? A reaction to something?

His lips weren't turning blue, so it wasn't oxygen deprivation.

Her pulse pounded as she scanned his table. His cup was still tipped over on the floor, coffee spilling across the tiles.

Could it have been something in his drink?

Her stomach twisted.

If she got this wrong, he would die.

And the world would reset.

She had to decide right now.

Her hands shook.

Then—

Her gaze landed on his face again.

"Wait..How..?"

He seemed confused. He probably noticed the difference in his memories.

Her blood ran cold.

She needed to know why.

Before he was gone for good.

"Hey."

Her voice was low, urgent.

She shook his shoulder gently. "Do you remember everything that happened?"

No response.

Her heart pounded.

She leaned in closer. "You said I saved you. How did you know that?"

A slight movement.

His fingers twitched weakly.

His eyelids fluttered.

For a brief second, she saw something in his face—

Recognition.

His mouth barely moved.

"...You..."

A surge of panic and anticipation crashed into her.

He was about to say something.

Something important.

She leaned in closer—

And then, his body jerked violently.

His breathing hitched.

A low choking sound left his throat.

Then—his body went completely still.

The world blinked.

The café door opened.

Connie's breath caught in her throat.

She was back in her seat.

The warm glow of the setting sun streamed through the windows once more. Ayaka sat across from her, stirring her drink like nothing had happened.

Like the last five minutes had been erased.

Because to everyone else in this café, they had.

But not for her.

She turned her head—just in time to see him walk in again.

The same casual stride. The same slightly wrinkled uniform.

The death flag was still in motion.

She clenched her fists.

She had lost her chance.

Her heart raced.

This time, she wouldn't waste a single second.

She needed to find out why he remembered what happened in the other timeline—but only after she saved him first.

Because if she hesitated again, if she let him speak before fixing the death flag...

The world would just reset.

She stood up immediately.

Ayaka blinked. "Uh, what—"

"Stay here," Connie muttered, already moving.

She crossed the café before he could collapse this time.

He didn't even notice her approaching.

He was too busy ordering his drink.

Her stomach twisted.

It wasn't the drink, was it?

Then what the hell was causing this?

She was running out of time.

She studied him.

His fingers tapped idly against the counter. He shifted his weight slightly.

Then—there it was again.

That tiny, almost imperceptible delay.

He reached for his drink.

His hand trembled slightly.

His pupils looked unfocused.

It hit her all at once.

He was already affected before he took a sip.

Her breath hitched.

It wasn't the drink.

Whatever was happening to him had started before he even walked into the café.

And that meant—

He was dying from something inside him.

She had seconds left.

Her hands curled into fists.

She wasn't a doctor. She had no medical training.

But she didn't need to be a doctor to keep someone awake.

The moment he grabbed his drink, she grabbed his wrist.

His head snapped up, startled.

He blinked at her in confusion.

"What—"

"You need to sit down," she said, voice sharp. "Right now."

He frowned, shifting slightly. "I—"

His body swayed.

This was it.

He was about to collapse again.

Connie yanked him toward the nearest chair.

"Sit," she ordered.

This time, he listened.

The moment he sat, his hands shook violently.

His breathing turned ragged.

She pressed her fingers against his neck to check the pulse.

Still weak. Still unstable.

But not fading as quickly this time.

She had bought herself more time.

Her jaw clenched. "Can you talk?"

His dazed eyes flickered toward her.

There was no response. His eyes were unfocused.

"Hey." Her voice was quieter this time, controlled. "I need you to focus. Do you feel strange? Lightheaded?"

A slow, pained nod.

"…Yeah. Feels like… my head's all foggy."

She frowned.

That wasn't normal.

It wasn't just exhaustion or dehydration.

It felt more like something was interfering with him.

Her stomach twisted.

"What's your name?" she asked.

A simple question.

He hesitated.

"…Takeshi."

That much, at least, came easily.

"Good. Takeshi, do you remember me?"

His brows furrowed.

"You tried to saved me.. Yesterday.." He exhaled shakily, rubbing his forehead. "…But when..? I didn't fall..."

Her pulse skipped.

Takeshi's expression grew more confused and pained the more he thought about it.

His mind right now had two distinct memories of the exact same moment.

Her fingers tightened on the table.

"How do you know that?"

A pause.

His lips twitched slightly, as if trying to form the words.

Then—a small, strained exhale.

"I don't know."

---

Takeshi was still alive.

But Connie could tell—not for long.

His breath came in short, uneven pulls, like each inhale took conscious effort. The napkin pressed against his nose had already begun to stain red. His fingers, still trembling, twitched slightly every few seconds. His face looked slightly paler than before.

She had stopped him from outright collapsing, but she hadn't stopped the real cause of what was happening to him.

The death flag was still in motion.

The café bustled with warmth and noise, but Connie couldn't hear any of it.

Her entire focus was locked onto Takeshi.

She had one shot to get information before he lost consciousness again.

If she didn't figure this out fast—the world would reset.

And she couldn't afford to waste another loop.

"Takeshi," she said firmly. "Can you hear me?"

His sluggish gaze met hers. He gave a slow nod.

She exhaled. "You told me earlier that i saved tried to save you."

A pause.

His fingers clenched slightly against the table.

"…Yeah."

His voice was hoarse.

"But you don't remember exactly?"

His brows furrowed slightly. "I… don't know."

That hesitation again.

It wasn't confusion. It wasn't memory loss.

It was like he had a missing piece—a thought, a realization that was supposed to be there, but just wasn't.

Something inside her twisted.

This was different.

This wasn't like when she spoke to Ayaka or anyone else after a reset.

Takeshi was grasping at something that shouldn't exist.

Memories that should have been wiped clean.

Each reset should have placed everyone back in their original state.

And yet—he still felt like he knew her.

Even if he couldn't explain it.

That meant…

Something from before the reset was still lingering somewhere in Takeshi's mind.

Not a full memory. Not a clear thought.

Just an echo.

A chill ran down her spine.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

But it was happening nonetheless.

If pieces of past loops could remain, then what were the actual limits of the System?

How much did it actually reset?

Was she assuming too much about how perfect the rewinds were?

Was Takeshi really the only one who retained these echoes of memories?

A terrifying thought crept into her mind.

If Takeshi could feel something that shouldn't exist anymore…

Then what if there were other things slipping through?

What if other people were experiencing strange moments of déjà vu without realizing it?

What if she wasn't the only one being affected?

Her fingers dug into her palms.

She needed to test something.

"Do you remember me saving you yesterday?" she asked carefully.

His eyes flickered slightly, like his mind was struggling to recall something just out of reach.

"…I fell, right?"

Her breath caught.

This wasn't how resets were supposed to work.

If the world had fully reset, then the incident never should have happened at all.

And yet—he still had a faint recollection.

A distorted, incomplete understanding.

Something was breaking through the loops.

Connie's pulse roared in her ears.

If the System was starting to fail—if memories were bleeding through resets—

Then how long before people started fully remembering?

And if they did…

What would happen to her?

Her stomach twisted.

There were too many questions.

And not enough answers.

A loud crash shattered her thoughts.

A waiter had dropped a tray. The sound of glass breaking rang through the café.

Takeshi flinched. His body tensed.

Then—a single drop of blood slid down his nose.

A slow, crimson trickle.

The symptoms weren't stopping.

Connie moved before she could think.

A napkin. She needed to stop the bleeding.

She grabbed a handful from the dispenser on the table, pushing them into Takeshi's hand. "Hold this against your nose. Apply pressure."

His expression was hazy, but he obeyed.

Ayaka, who had been watching silently this whole time, finally spoke up.

"Okay—what the hell is going on?"

Connie ignored her.

Takeshi was getting worse.

The dizziness. The slow reaction time. The delayed responses. And now a nosebleed.

His fingers clenched against the table. His breathing hitched.

He was still dying.

She had delayed the death flag.

But she hadn't stopped it.

The reset was still coming.

And she was almost out of time.

Connie shot up from her seat.

"Takeshi."

His hazy gaze lifted.

"We need to leave. Right now."

He blinked. "Why…?"

She grabbed his wrist. "Because whatever's killing you—it didn't start here."

His breath hitched.

"You were already affected before you walked into this café," she said quickly. "Which means whatever caused this—it happened before you got here."

Takeshi's lips parted slightly, as if trying to process that thought.

She pulled him to his feet.

"If we don't retrace your steps and find the cause…" Her voice dropped lower.

"…You're going to die."

The two of them stumbled out of the café.

But they were stopped by Ayaka before leaving the entrance.

"Wait—What the hell are you doing?!" She positioned herself in front of the entrance, blocking it.

"Why are you leaving with some random guy out of nowhere? Explain at least."

Connie's mind was already occupied thinking about the cause of the death flag, so she wasn't able to think of an excuse in time.

She was starting to panic, so she just slipped past Ayaka, pulling Takeshi by the wrist.

They ran out of the cafè just like that.

Ayaka was left at the entrance, flabbergasted.

Connie looked back at Takeshi.

He was still weak, but he managed to keep pace with her,

After passing through an alley, they slowed down a bit to let Takeshi recover.

The cold evening air bit at her skin as she scanned the streets.

"Where were you before this?" she asked.

Takeshi took a shaky breath. "…I was walking home."

"Did anything feel weird?"

A slow blink. "Not… really."

Her jaw clenched.

That wasn't helpful.

She needed details.

They hurried down the street, retracing his route.

Everything looked normal.

The sidewalks were still crowded with students heading home. A cyclist passed by. Street vendors called out to passing customers.

No obvious sign of danger.

But something had happened here.

They just had to find it.

Then—Takeshi suddenly stopped walking.

His fingers twitched slightly.

Connie turned sharply. "What's wrong?"

His lips parted. He looked uncertain.

"…I don't know," he muttered. "Something about this place…"

He trailed off.

Her pulse spiked.

This was it.

This was where it began.

She scanned the area, searching for anything out of place.

Then—she noticed it.

A single discarded can sitting near a streetlamp.

It was barely noticeable.

But something about it made her blood run cold.

Because it wasn't a soda can.

It was a tin can.

Small. Clear.

With a few remaining drops of liquid inside.

Her heartbeat slammed against her ribs.

This wasn't a coincidence.

This was the cause.

She took a slow breath.

Then, voice barely above a whisper—

"Takeshi. Did you drink anything on the way here?"

His expression flickered.

"I… I don't think—"

Then, suddenly, his eyes widened.

Connie's breath caught.

He remembered.

Even if it was just a fragment.

This was the moment of truth.

The moment where she would finally learn—

What had really happened to him.