That night, Mira couldn't sleep.
She lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling.
The notebook was still beside her.
Open.
The drawing of the rooftop felt different now.
No longer just a memory.
But a clue.
Her phone screen dimmed slowly beside her.
Their last message still there.
"Do you believe in fate?""I think I'm starting to."
Mira closed her eyes.
But her mind refused to stay quiet.
The café.
The note.
The rooftop.
The drawing.
Everything felt connected.
But nothing made sense.
"Why does it feel like I already knew all this…" she whispered.
Her thoughts slowly faded.
And without realizing—
She fell asleep.
At first, it was just darkness.
Then slowly—
A sound.
Wind.
Soft.
Cold.
Mira's brows furrowed slightly in her sleep.
Then—
Light appeared.
Golden.
Warm.
She opened her eyes.
And froze.
Because she wasn't in her room anymore.
She was standing somewhere unfamiliar.
A narrow street.
Stone pathways.
Old buildings around her.
The air felt different.
Quiet.
Calm.
She looked down at herself.
Her clothes—
They weren't the same.
She was wearing a long, soft dress.
Flowing with the wind.
"This… isn't my room," she whispered.
Her voice echoed slightly.
Then—
Footsteps.
Behind her.
Her heart skipped.
Slowly, she turned.
And saw him.
Standing a few steps away.
Her breath caught.
It was him.
But something felt different.
His clothes were different too.
Simple.
Almost… old-fashioned.
And his expression—
Soft.
Familiar.
But calmer than before.
As if he had known her for a long time.
"Mira."
Her heart stopped.
He said her name so naturally.
So easily.
As if it wasn't the first time.
She took a small step forward.
"How are you here?" she asked.
But her voice sounded different.
Softer.
Slower.
He smiled slightly.
"You're late," he said.
Mira frowned.
"Late?"
He nodded.
"I've been waiting."
Her heart tightened.
"Waiting… for me?"
He stepped closer.
"Yes."
The wind moved softly between them.
And suddenly—
Mira felt something strange.
Not confusion.
Not fear.
Recognition.
Like this moment had already happened.
Like she had stood here before.
With him.
In this same place.
"You said you would come back," he continued.
Her eyes widened.
"I did?" she whispered.
He nodded again.
"You always do."
Her breath caught.
Always.
That word echoed in her chest.
Before she could say anything—
Another flash appeared.
A different moment.
She saw herself—
Standing in the same place.
Laughing.
Talking.
With him.
Then another.
And another.
Different days.
Different moments.
But the same two people.
Her and him.
Meeting again.
And again.
And again.
Mira stepped back slightly.
"This isn't a dream…" she whispered.
It felt too real.
Too detailed.
Too emotional.
He looked at her quietly.
Then said something that made her heart stop.
"This is a memory."
Silence.
Mira's eyes widened.
"A memory?"
He nodded.
"One of many."
Her mind went blank.
"Many…?"
He stepped closer again.
"This isn't the first time we've met," he said softly.
Her heartbeat became uneven.
"Then how many times…" she whispered.
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead—
He looked at her like he was remembering something.
Then finally said—
"Enough that I stopped counting."
Mira felt like the ground beneath her had disappeared.
Because that meant—
This wasn't just coincidence.
This wasn't just fate.
This was something deeper.
Something that had existed—
Before this life.
Before that café.
Before everything she remembered.
Her voice trembled slightly.
"Then why don't I remember?"
He smiled faintly.
"You always forget."
Her eyes filled with confusion.
"Always?"
He nodded.
"But you always come back."
Her chest tightened.
Because somehow—
That felt true.
Even if she didn't understand it.
Even if she couldn't remember.
Her heart believed him.
"Mira."
His voice softened.
"Will you remember this time?"
She froze.
Because she didn't know the answer.
Before she could respond—
The world around her began to blur.
The light faded.
The wind disappeared.
"No… wait…" she said.
She reached out her hand.
But he was already fading.
"Mira," he said one last time.
"Find me again."
And then—
Everything went dark.
Mira's eyes opened suddenly.
Her breath heavy.
Her room.
Her bed.
Her ceiling.
Back to reality.
But her heart was still racing.
"This…" she whispered.
Her hands trembled slightly.
"That wasn't a dream."
Her phone buzzed.
A message.
From him.
She slowly picked it up.
And her heart stopped when she read it.
"Did you dream about me?"