Memory Anchor: When Raze and Iris Meet Again

Reincarnated as a Background Character — Boss Fell in Love With Me

Memory Anchor: When Raze and Iris Meet Again

She arrived at his side in the garden of broken time, a mystical place steeped in both memory and sorrow.

This encounter was entirely unanticipated. It did not unfold with the grandiosity of a theatrical performance. There were no dramatic declarations echoing through the air, no trumpets sounding, no radiant beams of light piercing the fading twilight, and certainly no celestial harmonies gracing the moment with elegance. Instead, there was merely the sound of a hesitant footstep pressing into the soft, neglected grass that had long ceased to grow, a quiet noise that spoke of forgotten seasons.

Raze turned slowly, compelled by an instinct that drew him forward, and in an instant, he beheld her.

Iris.

There was no grandeur about her—no title to define her, no status that set her apart from the ordinary, and no stance that suggested she had emerged from a battlefield, ready to confront a world of chaos. She stood there simply, profoundly alive.

Her skin glowed with a delicate pallor, reminiscent of the soft flicker of candlelight, the kind of illumination that invites warmth but hints at fragility. Her eyes, however, appeared distant and unfocused, as though she hadn't yet arrived at the realization of her own existence, as if she were still untethered from the fabric of reality. Adorning her was a familiar blue sash, the same one she had worn in the winding corridors of the eastern wing—a detail that sparked echoes of a time she struggled to recollect, as she had no conscious memory of putting it on.

"Hi," she greeted him, her voice lilting softly and deliberately, a slow cadence that seemed to take its time as it flowed through the air. "I think… I used to know you."

For several moments, Raze found himself speechless, caught in the web of emotions that bound him to this apparition before him.

He did not utter a word in response, nor did he allow tears to spill from his eyes.

He didn't rush toward her, either. Instead, he took a cautious step forward, as if he feared that any sudden movement might cause the fragile world around them to shatter, taking her away once more.

"You made tea for me," she recalled, her voice threading memories through the silence. "You joked about side quests."

His throat constricted around the effort of speaking; a word lingered on his tongue, but no sound emerged.

With a gentle tilt of her head, she inquired, "Did I… paint for you?"

"You painted everything," Raze finally managed to say, the weight of his emotions spilling into his words. "Even the things we hadn't lived yet."

[Anchor Lock Achieved – Emotional Sync: Passive/Auxiliary Stable]

Iris has become a "Persistent Echo-Soul."

Classification: Memory-Bound.

Role: Hope Fragment.

She lifted her gaze towards the fractured sky above—the same heaven where Velzeria had once torn open the stars, leaving them to flicker like scattered dreams.

Then her eyes found him again, searching, questioning.

"…Why did you bring me back?" she asked, a flicker of confusion crossing her delicate features.

His answer was refreshingly uncomplicated.

"I didn't."

Taking a tentative step closer, his hand trembled, a reflection of the whirlwind of feelings swirling within him.

"She did. I just remembered enough for her to find the trail," he explained, the weight of truth nestled between them.

Iris blinked, and her eyes brimmed with tears—tears that seemed impossible, for she was not meant to have the capacity for such emotions.

"She said I wasn't important," she whispered, a raw vulnerability threading through her words.

"She lied," he replied softly, his voice a gentle balm against the harshness of reality.

Then, in a low whisper filled with the kind of honesty that cut straight to the core, he added, "I would have died remembering you, Iris."

Her silence lingered, but it was not uncomfortable. Instead, it teetered on the edge of something profound, something that promised the possibility of the unthinkable.

And then, without warning, she stepped forward and enveloped him in an embrace.

There was no magic to herald it. No surging power that surged through the air, no grand gestures punctuating the moment—just the comforting warmth of contact.

As she clung to him, her form flickered like a flame before a gust of wind, quickly stabilizing and softening until she settled into something tangible, something whole.

[Echo Reclassified: Soul Level Restoration — 84% Complete]

Anchor: "Raze" confirmed

World Resistance: Active

Incoming Threat: Author-Class Presence detected (3 days remaining)

"I'm not all the way back," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath, a confession of her incomplete journey. "I can feel the pieces missing."

Raze drew back just enough to meet her gaze, his own eyes steady and assured.

"Then we'll live the new ones together," he promised, the conviction in his voice offering a foundation upon which they could rebuild.

A smile broke across her face, a soft, crooked gesture that encapsulated both resilience and vulnerability.

It was a survivor's smile—a testament to the endurance of a spirit half-alive yet fully cherished, gifted only to someone who knew the depths of love and loss intimately.

To be continued...