Morning came without an alarm.
No rewind.
No soft pull back into yesterday.
The sun rose once—and stayed risen.
Ren opened his eyes to a ceiling he didn't recognize.
White. Clean. Cracked faintly at the corner, like someone had repaired it in a hurry.
"…Hospital?" he murmured.
A machine beeped steadily beside him.
That sound—steady, imperfect—made his chest ache for no reason he could name.
He sat up slowly.
Nothing screamed at him.
No red symbols.
No system messages.
No pressure behind his eyes.
Just… quiet.
A nurse noticed him stir and hurried over.
"Oh! You're awake," she said, relieved.
"You've been out for two days."
Ren frowned.
"Two days since… what?"
She hesitated.
"…Since the incident at the school."
"Incident?"
She exchanged a look with someone outside the room.
"…The blackout. Structural collapse. You were found unconscious in the courtyard."
Ren nodded slowly.
That felt… plausible.
Fragments flickered at the edge of his thoughts—
a courtyard,
a tree,
someone crying—
They dissolved when he tried to hold them.
Outside the Room
Abinaya stood in the hallway, fingers clenched around a paper cup she hadn't touched.
Two days.
The world hadn't reset.
Cities were still broken where they'd fallen.
Names were still carved where they'd been lost.
And Ren—
Ren was awake.
Rakesh stood beside her, quieter than she'd ever seen him.
"…You don't have to go in," he said.
Abinaya shook her head.
"I do."
She took a breath and entered the room.
Ren looked up.
Their eyes met.
Nothing sparked.
No recognition.
No echo.
But he smiled—polite, warm, human.
"Hey," he said.
"Do I know you?"
Abinaya felt the old ache bloom again—but she didn't let it break her.
"I'm Abinaya," she said.
"I… was there that day."
He nodded.
"Ren."
She smiled softly.
"I know."
Something in his expression flickered—confusion, maybe curiosity.
"Strange," he said.
"It feels like I should know you better."
Abinaya swallowed.
"That happens," she replied gently.
"Some things leave impressions."
They talked.
About small things.
School.
The blackout.
How strange it felt that news channels kept using the phrase 'no further corrections expected' without knowing why.
Ren listened intently.
Present.
Grounded.
Different.
Better?
She didn't know yet.
When visiting hours ended, Abinaya stood to leave.
"Hey," Ren said suddenly.
She turned.
"Thanks," he said.
"For coming."
She nodded.
"…Anytime."
As she stepped into the hallway, her knees finally gave.
Rakesh caught her.
"He won't remember," he said softly.
"Not unless something breaks again."
Abinaya wiped her eyes.
"That's okay," she said.
"This world deserves to be lived forward."
Rakesh studied her.
"…And you?"
She looked through the window at Ren, laughing awkwardly with the nurse.
"I'll remember," she said.
"So he doesn't have to."
Outside, the sky wasn't perfect.
But it didn't reset.
And for the first time—
That was enough.