I closed my eyes, and the hospital room dissolved. In its place, the vast, achromatic expanse of my consciousness stretched out into infinity.
Sitting there, centered in that nothingness, was Ame.
"So, there is no night for me?" I asked the silence.
"I won't be getting any sleep at all."
I sighed, the sound swallowed by the vacuum of the white space. I began to walk toward him, my footsteps making no sound.
From behind, Ame looked devastatingly lonely—a silhouette of isolation I couldn't quite name. I remembered a time when I refused to even use his name, referring to him only as that man.
"Ame," I called out.
He didn't answer.
"Ame," I tried again, my voice stronger this time.
He turned his head with a heavy slowness. His eyes were numb, stripped of the spark I usually looked for.
"You're back," he said, his voice a low vibration.
"I was watching you from here. Your past self... she seems to be in so much pain, Elena."
I sat beside him, the lack of a floor feeling strangely stable.
"Is that how I look to you? Well, it doesn't hurt like that anymore. Not really."
He turned to face me fully, his gaze searching mine.
"Just hold on. It will pass soon. You know that, right? I am witnessing this with you. I am… here."
I offered him a small, weary smile but said nothing. We sat together in the blankness, two anchors in a sea of nothing. Finally, I broke the quiet.
"Why am I back here again?"
"You will always return," Ame replied, his voice trailing off as if he were mourning something.
"If your memories begin to blur... I think you've forgotten. You don't seem to remember what happens after this."
I froze, staring into the white void. The silence grew heavy, pressing against my chest.
Is my memory fading? I wondered, a cold dread pooling in my stomach. Is there a piece of my childhood I've buried so deep that even I can't find it?