Chapter 9 – Echoes in the Night
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
Yu Yin blinked at the ceiling. The soft hum of the AC wasn't enough to drown out the sudden heaviness she felt pressing against her chest. Maybe it was the emotional energy of the day. Maybe it was just late-night hunger. Either way, her stomach grumbled softly, and she sighed, pushing the duvet off her legs.
She padded down the hallway in her oversized slippers, the ones Yin Yin had said used to be her favorite. Everything was strange and familiar at the same time—like walking through a dream that used to belong to someone else.
She turned the corner and stopped.
Voices. Low and serious.
She shouldn't eavesdrop.
She really shouldn't.
But the tone of Yin Yin's voice... the heaviness in it... made her pause in the shadow of the hallway, just before the living room.
"…She hasn't been herself," Yin Yin whispered. "I pretend it's all okay, but Mingze, it's not. I feel like I've lost her."
Yu Yin's heart dropped.
There was a rustling sound. Mingze must have moved closer. "You haven't lost her, Yin Yin. She's still here."
"But she doesn't remember…" Yin Yin's voice cracked. "You know, she used to laugh so loudly when we danced to that ridiculous K-pop song in the kitchen. She'd scream when I hid her teddy bear. We had a whole photo wall. And now? She stares at the wall like it's a stranger's house."
Yu Yin covered her mouth.
She'd seen the photo wall. Hundreds of pictures. Her smiling face next to Yin Yin's. Birthday cakes, school uniforms, Halloween costumes. A lifetime etched into glossy rectangles. She hadn't known what to feel then. Mostly numb. But now… now she felt it. The ache of something she couldn't touch. A memory she couldn't grasp.
"I know it hurts," Mingze said softly. "But don't hide from her, Yin Yin. She needs you."
"She thinks I'm strong," Yin Yin muttered bitterly. "But I cry every night. I keep asking myself what I did wrong—how I could let ten years slip away like they didn't exist."
Yu Yin blinked rapidly.
That wasn't true. It wasn't Yin Yin's fault.
And it wasn't fair.
She took a step back, the wooden floor creaking ever so slightly.
Silence.
Too late.
"Yu Yin?" Yin Yin called softly.
Yu Yin stepped into the room slowly, caught in the middle of the emotional web. Mingze looked at her first, his brows furrowed, but sympathetic. Yin Yin looked like she'd just been caught hiding a wound.
"I—I just came for a snack," Yu Yin mumbled. She didn't know what else to say. She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold.
"Did you hear all that?" Yin Yin asked gently.
Yu Yin nodded.
Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away. "You're wrong."
Yin Yin looked up, confused.
"You're wrong," Yu Yin repeated, voice a little louder this time. "You didn't do anything wrong. I'm the one who… forgot."
"Yu Yin—"
"No." She stepped forward. "I might not remember everything right now, but something in me knows you. I feel safe with you. I trust you. And even if my brain doesn't remember those ten years... my heart does."
Mingze let out a soft breath, like he was witnessing something sacred.
Yin Yin bit her lip, her eyes glistening.
"I want to remember," Yu Yin whispered. "And I'm going to fight for it. Because you matter to me. I don't know how or why or when we got so close, but I see it. I feel it. And I want it back."
The silence that followed wasn't heavy this time. It was filled with something warmer. Hope.
Yin Yin stood up slowly, coming toward her, and for a long second, Yu Yin just let herself be pulled into a hug. She buried her face in Yin Yin's shoulder, and for once, she didn't feel broken. She felt found.
They stayed like that for a long time.
Mingze quietly excused himself, slipping out into the night with the same silent grace he always carried.
Eventually, Yin Yin let out a soft chuckle through her tears. "You sure you weren't an actress in your past life? That was a whole drama monologue."
Yu Yin sniffled. "Shut up."
They both laughed, and somehow, it felt like the beginning of something healing.
---
The next morning, the sun poured through the curtains like it was celebrating something.
Yin Yin hummed in the kitchen, flipping pancakes. "So, are you ready to continue our 'Operation Memory Retrieval?'"
Yu Yin grinned sleepily, still in her fluffy pajamas. "Let's go. I want to see everything—every place, every corner we used to hang out. I'm going to remember it all."
Yin Yin smirked. "Even the embarrassing karaoke night?"
Yu Yin paused. "Depends. Was I good?"
"You were terrible."
Yu Yin gasped. "Then yes. I must witness this tragedy."
They both burst into laughter.
Outside the window, Mingze stood by his car, glancing at the house with a quiet smile.
Something was changing.
Healing.
And Yu Yin was finally ready to fight her way back to the memories she'd once shared with the people who mattered most.