A Stranger's Sorrow

Siren's chest felt too tight, as if the weight of six centuries had just come crashing down on him all at once.

Aaria.

She was standing right in front of him.

She was real. Alive. Breathing.

And yet… she was looking at him like a stranger.

Siren clenched his fists, struggling to steady himself. His mind was still reeling from the memories that had just resurfaced, the echo of her last words from six hundred years ago still ringing in his ears.

"Wait for me, Siren.""

And he had. God, he had.

But now, she was here, and she didn't even recognize him.

"Are you okay?"

Her voice pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts. Siren blinked, realizing that Aaria was staring at him. Her brows were drawn together in concern, her head tilted slightly.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

How was he supposed to answer? How could he possibly explain the storm inside him?

Aaria took a hesitant step closer. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

You are the ghost.

The thought nearly escaped his lips, but he swallowed it down.

Her concern only deepened when he didn't respond. "You—uh—do you need help or something?"

Siren forced himself to breathe, to think. He had imagined this moment a thousand times in his lonely years of waiting. He had dreamed of it, wished for it, ached for it.

But he had never imagined this.

That she would return with no memories of him.

That she would stand before him, unburdened by the love they once shared.

That she would see him as a stranger.

His hands trembled at his sides. He wanted to reach for her, to tell her everything, to make her remember.

But he couldn't.

Not yet.

"I'm fine," he lied, his voice rough. "It's just… your name."

Aaria blinked. "My name?"

Siren hesitated. He couldn't tell her—not like this. If she was truly reincarnated, then her memories were gone. Forcing the truth on her wouldn't bring them back.

So instead, he forced a weak, almost bitter smile.

"It just… reminded me of someone I lost."

Aaria's lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something but didn't know what. The air between them felt thick with something unspoken, something neither of them could understand.

Then, after a pause, she smiled softly. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Siren felt something inside him shatter.

She had said those words before.

Six hundred years ago. On a rainy night. After seeing him break over someone else's death.

But that time, it was her own.

His throat tightened, but he nodded. "Yeah. Me too."