Chapter 26 — The Memory That Wasn't Meant to Exist
Night fell softly over the city again.
The rooftop where she stood earlier was now quiet, the sky dimly veiled by clouds. Rimuru leaned against the railing, her reflection rippling faintly on the glass behind her — slightly delayed, slightly wrong.
She sighed, running a hand through her white hair.
"I told them to hold off. Guess someone didn't get the memo."
Her phone buzzed again.
Same hidden number. Same sterile tone.
"She's remembering too quickly."
Rimuru smirked. "You make it sound like that's a bad thing."
Another message came.
"If she remembers everything, she'll collapse again. You know the consequence."
That made her smile fade.
Her fingers tightened around the phone until the plastic creaked.
"…Yeah," she whispered. "I know."
The reflection behind her tilted its head.
> "You can't protect her from herself forever," it said, voice low and teasing.
Rimuru didn't turn. "You'd be surprised how stubborn I can be."
The reflection laughed quietly — her laugh, but warped.
> "You erased her memories once. Will you do it again?"
Rimuru's shoulders tensed. "If I have to."
The reflection leaned closer, whispering.
> "Even if she hates you for it?"
Rimuru's gaze softened.
"That's better than watching her disappear again."
She pocketed the phone and walked away from the railing. The night wind tugged at her coat, carrying faint echoes of laughter and static.
---
By the time she reached the old storage room under the gym, the barrier she'd placed around it shimmered faintly — still intact. Inside, the air felt heavy, like space itself was remembering something.
Rimuru crouched near a faint, glowing sigil drawn on the floor — a delicate weave of red and blue light. It pulsed faintly when she touched it.
> "You're stable for now," she murmured. "That's good. Don't wake up yet."
She looked up at the wall across from her.
Pinned there were fragments of old photos — torn corners, blurred faces, a half-visible smile that looked like Aira's.
Rimuru stared at it for a long moment.
"Funny thing about protecting someone," she said quietly. "It always ends up looking a lot like lying."
---
The reflection appeared again, stepping out of the darkness.
> "She's going to find out soon," it said. "Ren's already remembering too."
"I know," Rimuru replied, standing.
> "And when she does?"
Rimuru looked toward the ceiling — as if the stars above could hear her.
"Then I'll make her laugh before she cries."
Her grin returned — faint, but real.
"Because that's what I do."
---
Outside, thunder rolled distantly.
In Aira's room across town, her phone buzzed once more — the same message appearing briefly before vanishing from the screen.
"If you remember, don't look at the mirrors."