Chapter 31: Fragments of Memory

Night pressed in on Ren as he walked home alone.

Haru and Mina had offered to stay with him, but he refused gently.

He needed silence.

He needed air.

He needed some corner of the world where the panic in his chest could settle long enough for him to think.

Except the air didn’t settle.

Not tonight.

Every shadow felt stretched, like the town itself was being pulled at the seams.

And then—

The first vision hit him.

---Ren blinked, and suddenly he wasn’t on the road anymore.

He was sitting at the kitchen table of a small apartment he remembered too well.

A little girl with Yuki’s eyes tugged on his sleeve.

“Papa, Mama said stop burning the eggs.”

Yuki’s voice floated in from the stove. “Because he always burns them.”

Ren laughed.

She rolled her eyes.

Their daughter giggled.

A warmth spread through his chest.

He didn’t want the moment to end.

But it dissolved—

like fog pulled apart by wind.

Ren stumbled back onto the dark street, breath shaking.

“What… was that?”

His heart thudded.

He kept walking, but the visions kept coming.

---

Another flash.

He was carrying their son on his shoulders, walking home after work.

The boy pointed at a stray cat.

“Papa, can we take it home?”

Ren’s voice answered automatically. “Your mom will kill me.”

Yuki walked beside them, smiling gently.

And then—

a cold sensation sliced through the scene.

Everything collapsed again.

Ren grabbed a streetlight, steadying himself.

“These aren’t dreams… they’re pieces.”

Pieces of the life they left.

Pieces of the life they failed.

Every time the chime rang, he saw something new.

Something deeper.

The timeline wasn’t just unstable.

It was trying to remind him of something.

---

He pulled out the crumpled note he found earlier.

“You cannot hold onto someone the timeline has claimed.”

He read it again and again, feeling the words dig deeper.

What did it mean?

Why Yuki?

Why now?

Static buzzed faintly in his ears.

Then he heard a soft voice behind him.

“You’re starting to see it, Ren.”

He spun.

A woman stood under the streetlight—calm, elegant, familiar.

“Mom…?”

Keiko Aoki offered a tired smile. “You’re pale. Sit down before you pass out.”

Ren stared, speechless. “How—why are you here?”

“I had a feeling things would shift again,” she said, stepping closer. “I also had a feeling you’d be too stubborn to ask for help.”

He almost laughed, but the sound wouldn’t come.

Keiko glanced around, her expression tightening. “The air is warped. The God of Time is watching closely.”

Ren swallowed. “Is Yuki…? Is she okay?”

“For now.”

Her tone held both comfort and warning.

“But she’s drifting. The moment the timeline can’t hold her, she’ll slip further.”

Ren’s stomach twisted. “Why her? Why not me?”

Keiko met his eyes. “Because Yuki is your anchor.”

“My… anchor?”

“Yes,” she said softly. “The God of Time sent you back because something in your past broke the flow. Something both of you caused.”

Ren felt his heartbeat in his throat.

“Mom… we divorced because we hurt each other. But how does that—”

“That wasn’t the real reason.”

Her voice cut cleanly through the night.

Ren froze.

“What… are you saying?”

“There were choices you made—both of you—that started a collapse. Your hearts grew distant, yes. But so did your paths. You lost yourselves long before you lost each other.”

Ren shook his head, overwhelmed. “But we’re trying. We’re fixing things. Isn’t that enough?”

Keiko’s expression softened with sadness.

“Trying isn’t enough when the timeline itself remembers the mistakes you fear repeating.”

Ren’s breath caught.

Yuki had said the same thing earlier.

Fear.

Avoidance.

Hesitation.

Their biggest enemy wasn’t fate.

It was the way they kept running from each other.

---

Keiko placed a hand on his arm.

“You and Yuki were brought back because you were drifting toward a future you weren’t meant to reach. Your children… your bond… everything that mattered was cracking.”

Ren’s eyes stung.

“What do I do?” he whispered.

“You stop hesitating,” she said quietly. “You stop letting fear choose for you. Yuki’s disappearance isn’t punishment. It’s a consequence.”

“A consequence?”

“For treating your heart like something dangerous instead of something worth fighting for.”

Ren lowered his head.

The guilt sat heavy in his chest.

He remembered Yuki crying in their old apartment.

He remembered leaving during arguments because he couldn’t handle conflict.

He remembered saying sorry too late.

He remembered everything.

---

Before she left, Keiko touched his cheek.

“You’re not alone, Ren. You never were. But if you want to bring Yuki back… you’ll need to be braver than you were in the life you lost.”

He looked up sharply. “How do I find her?”

Keiko stepped back, her figure already weakening, as if fading from the timeline’s edge.

“Follow the fragments,” she whispered. “Follow the chime.”

The world shimmered around her—

And she was gone.

---

Ren dropped to his knees on the empty street.

His chest felt tight, but something inside him finally clicked.

He understood now.

The visions.

The chime.

The shrine’s pull.

Yuki slipping away.

The timeline wasn’t breaking randomly.

It was reacting to the distance they kept trying to maintain.

To the love they kept pretending wasn’t dangerous.

To the fear they kept choosing over each other.

And now—

Yuki was somewhere between the past they lived

and the future they lost.

“Yuki…” he whispered, gripping the note. “I’m coming. I promise.”

Under the dim streetlight, the chime echoed faintly again—

soft, distant, beckoning.

The first step toward her had already begun.