His thoughts sank into memories his brain had once filtered away, yet now surfaced with startling clarity. At last, Rrakavasha understood where that oddly familiar warmth had come from.
It was his mother's embrace from childhood, that place where worries dissolved, fears vanished, where he could fall asleep in perfect peace.
He relaxed completely, the corners of his lips lifting into a smile he hadn't worn in one hundred and fifty-seven years. Memories sealed away for so long surged back like a tide breaking through a dam.
So that's how it is...
Then let it be so.
"I grieve that joy and sorrow you could not see, I sigh that love stood divided on two shores."
"The northern wind rolls snow, blossoms scatter, and the past in chaos plucks the strings of my heart."
"Words beyond count cannot be spoken; only empty longing remains in memory. In the end, a lone plum endures the cold years... the youth of those days can never be found again..."
At the moment Rrakavasha's eyes were about to close, a tear slid from the corner of his eye, silently seeping into the ground beneath him.
"Clarice, thank you for staying with me until the very last moment..."
I should go now.
Take care.
[Remaining Lifespan: 25 minutes, 34 seconds → 0]
Clarice's attention was still caught on the poem he'd recited, her mind turning over each beautiful, melancholic line. Then, in the instant after she heard his thanks, she realized the man in her arms had stopped breathing entirely.
Her arms trembled as she gently moved Rrakavasha's head onto her lap, cradling him with infinite care.
A clean, peaceful smile rested on his face, like a child who had finally put down all defenses and drifted into sleep without fear.
He left so quietly, so serenely, as though slipping from one dream into another.
Clarice's vision blurred. Large tears rolled down and fell onto Rrakavasha's cheeks, trailing paths down skin that would never warm again.
Her fingers softly traced the outline of his features, committing every detail to memory. Choking back sobs, she forced out a hoarse whisper.
"...You almost became a liar again..."
You clearly said you knew when you would die, that there was no need to celebrate early.
And yet?
In the end, you still didn't make it to one hundred and seventy-five.
Why... why wouldn't you stay a little longer, feel a little more of the warmth I gave you? Just a few more minutes, was that too much to ask?
Clarice bent down, her forehead lightly touching his, sharing a breath that only came from one side now.
The night was utterly silent around them, bearing witness to this final goodbye.
After a long time, her lips moved. She placed a kiss upon Rrakavasha's cold lips, a confession he would never hear, a promise that came too late.
Her fingertips brushed over his closed eyelids as she slowly straightened, drawing back from that last intimacy.
At that moment, Rrakavasha's youthful face began to fade, gradually returning to the appearance of an elderly man with white hair. His expression remained peaceful, unchanged by time's final claim.
The night was still long, stretching endlessly before her.
Clarice took off her coat and gently draped it over him, then lifted her gaze to the starry sky above, countless points of light that would outlive them all.
How she wished that just moments ago, he had told her with his own lips that after death, he would become a star, watching over her forever in the heavens.
A lie could at least hold emotion, couldn't it...?
Clarice held Rrakavasha like that until dawn broke, refusing to let go even as her limbs grew numb and cold.
The rising sun drove away the long night, bringing warm light to all things that had endured frost through the darkness.
Morning radiance spilled over the two in front of the bamboo house, yet neither could feel any warmth, one beyond feeling, the other too numb to notice.
"Life is a winding labyrinth, with memories our sole companion."
A figure whose face could not be seen appeared quietly, stopping several meters away with an ethereal grace.
Hearing familiar words in an unfamiliar female voice, Clarice slowly lifted her head. Her eyes were dim, yet she showed no surprise, only silence weighted with acceptance.
She had long known she had been chosen.
Those phantom shadows of past memories she'd been able to see before were the best proof of her potential.
"Do you want to remember him, remember his entire life?" The figure's voice was gentle but carried undeniable gravity.
"What price will I pay?" Clarice countered, her voice steady despite everything.
"Before you are willing to reveal yourself, people will have no way of knowing you exist."
"Like how people didn't know swans could be anything but white until they saw a black swan?"
"Just like that."
"I understand."
"Are you willing to spend your entire life collecting memories?"
"I am."
"Are you willing to give up your flesh and accept your own mutation for this?"
"I am."
"If one day you no longer exist, what will you leave behind for the world?"
"My memories. Within them are seeds of the past, and they will be reborn in the future," Clarice answered without hesitation.
In an instant, a glance seemed to cross the sea of stars and fall upon her, ancient, knowing, approving.
"Welcome to the Garden of Recollection, Miss Clarice."
Some memories were trivial yet warm, like sunlight filtering through leaves. Some were vast and boundless, like oceans that stretched beyond horizons.
Some memories were tame like pets, content to rest quietly. Some were like ferocious beasts, hard to control and constantly struggling.
From the moment Clarice became a Memokeeper, her memories grew quiet and gentle, as if roaring waves had finally found their harbor after an endless storm.
"Call me Black Swan."
Before the day of reunion arrived, people had always believed that the past was a final farewell, something lost forever to time's flow.
Swans were not only white, and perhaps goodbye was not always forever.
The member of the Garden who guided her nodded. Their figure faded like morning mist, silently leaving.
Clarice... no.
Black Swan's eyes held a tenderness reserved only for Rrakavasha, now deeper than ever, transformed by power into something that could never fade.
Countless memory fragments spiraled around her, then vanished into her being like stars falling into a void.
They had not disappeared. They had become seeds waiting to bloom.
People thought they were facing the present and the future, yet no one knew that in truth, everyone was walking toward the past, carrying it with every step forward.
"Mr. Rrakavasha, I can finally engrave you into my heart... with eternity as the deadline."
Black Swan lifted Rrakavasha in her arms with newfound strength. Her feet left the ground as she drifted back to the bamboo house to do one last thing for him.
To be buried beneath the plum tree, to return to dust.
This was his final wish, and she would see it fulfilled.
The entrance to the folded space inside the bamboo house was still concealed, yet Black Swan could enter it without any hindrance now, her new nature allowing passage through barriers that would have stopped her before.
There, the place Rrakavasha had prepared for his eternal sleep was stored, waiting patiently.
"Meow..."
Seeing Little Orange, sorrow flickered across Black Swan's face; even animals could sense what had been lost.
"...You're here too..."
She carefully set Rrakavasha's body down. Little Orange jumped up and rubbed its head against his cold cheek, as if trying to wake him from sleep.
"Meow..."
Its voice trembled with understanding. It was grieving in its own way.
Black Swan took a deep breath and brought his belongings, a white lab coat carefully folded, and the zhongruan he'd played so many times.
She folded the lab coat with reverent care and placed it beside him, together with the zhongruan, the two things that had defined so much of his waiting.
After finishing, she stared at the aged face, dazed and unmoving, drinking in every detail one final time.
"I'm sorry. I can't accept fate as calmly as you did..."
"I'm sorry. I took your memories, selfishly keeping you in my heart forever..."
"If you have a next life, if we can meet again, I hope we'll meet again..."
No one knew how much time passed before Black Swan's hovering finger finally fell softly onto the activation button, her hand trembling reluctantly.
The entrance opened, revealing the dark space within, a void prepared for this purpose alone.
As she watched Rrakavasha's body slowly be sent inside, she closed her eyes against the sight, unable to watch and yet unable to look away.
The gate shut. Flames ignited within, completely consuming his body until nothing remained but ash.
Sending off the one you love with your own hands was probably the most painful thing in the world, watching them disappear piece by piece, knowing you'd never see them whole again.
But no matter how painful it was, she would see it through to the end.
...Because she already possessed everything about him. Every moment, every thought, every feeling, all preserved forever.
For Mr. Rrakavasha, today was his birthday, and also the day of his death.
Two occasions collapsed into one final moment.
...
A few hours later, Black Swan appeared before the old plum tree atop the back mountain, holding an urn of ashes close to her chest.
It was noon. Winter sunlight illuminated the mountains of plum blossoms, the scenery dreamlike in its beauty, exactly as he would have loved to see it.
"You originally... planned to pick plum blossoms today, didn't you..."
In the end, it was missed. One more thing left undone.
After burying Rrakavasha beneath the ancient tree, Black Swan erected a tombstone for him with meticulous care.
She pondered for a long time over what to inscribe, then let out a sigh filled with complicated emotion, love, and loss, and acceptance all tangled together.
With a light stroke of her fingertip through the air, five characters appeared upon the stone in elegant script:
[Grave of Rrakavasha]
The wind grew stronger, carrying petals of plum blossoms to fall before the stone like nature's own offering.
An orange figure darted out from behind, crouching beneath the tombstone with feline solemnity.
One person and one cat bathed in the warm sun, keeping watch here together.
For a long, long time...