Adrian didn't rush out of bed the next morning.
He sat there for a while, leaning against the headboard, staring at nothing in particular while going over the dream again.
This time, it wasn't just a voice.
It was a face.
Not clear, not complete, but enough.
"…It was him," Adrian muttered under his breath, rubbing his eyes. "It was really him."
He swung his legs off the bed and stood up, feeling a strange mix of nervousness and something close to relief. The confusion from before wasn't as strong now. It had direction.
And that made it harder to ignore.
—
At breakfast, Adrian didn't sit quietly like usual.
He walked in, looked around once, then went straight to the seat next to Alessio.
Alessio noticed immediately.
"You're early again," he said, glancing at him.
Adrian nodded, but he didn't reach for the food yet. Instead, he looked at Alessio for a few seconds like he was trying to confirm something.
"…I saw you," Adrian said.
Alessio paused. "What?"
"In the dream," Adrian added, his voice calm but serious. "It wasn't just a voice this time."
The table went quiet without anyone saying anything. Marco looked up from his coffee, and Nico stopped scrolling on his phone.
Alessio leaned slightly closer. "What do you mean?"
Adrian frowned a little as he tried to explain. "I was in the same place… the garden. I heard someone call me again, and when I turned, I saw—" He stopped, exhaling. "It wasn't clear, but I knew it was you."
Alessio didn't speak immediately.
"…Are you sure?" he asked.
Adrian nodded. "Yeah. I didn't have to think about it this time."
Marco exchanged a quick look with Dante, but neither of them interrupted.
Alessio leaned back in his chair, processing it. "What else do you remember?"
Adrian shook his head. "Not much. Just… that it felt normal. Like I wasn't confused there."
That part hit harder than the rest.
Because here, in real life, everything still felt new.
"…That's good," Alessio said after a moment.
Adrian looked at him. "It doesn't feel good."
Alessio frowned slightly. "Why?"
"Because it means I forgot something important," Adrian replied, finally reaching for his food. "And I don't know how long it's going to take to remember it properly."
No one had an easy answer for that.
—
The ride to school felt different again, but not in a bad way.
Adrian didn't stay quiet the whole time.
"…What were we doing in the garden?" he asked suddenly, still looking out the window.
Alessio glanced at him. "You mean in the memory?"
Adrian nodded. "Yeah."
Alessio thought for a moment. "We used to play there. It was behind the old house. You liked running around more than anything."
Adrian let out a small breath. "You keep saying that."
"Because it's true."
Adrian looked down at his hands. "I don't feel like that kind of person."
"That's because you changed," Alessio said simply. "That doesn't mean you weren't like that before."
Adrian didn't argue with that.
He just nodded slowly.
—
At school, things went as usual, but Adrian found himself distracted more than before.
During reading, he lost focus halfway through a paragraph.
The teacher noticed.
"Adrian?" she called gently.
He looked up quickly. "Sorry."
"Do you want to start again?" she asked.
Adrian hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah."
He started over, forcing himself to focus this time, but the words felt heavier than usual. Not harder—just harder to stay on.
After class, Alessio caught up with him in the hallway.
"You okay?" he asked.
Adrian adjusted his bag. "Yeah. Just thinking."
"About the dream?"
Adrian nodded.
"…It's distracting," he admitted. "I keep trying to remember more."
Alessio walked beside him. "You don't have to force it during school."
"I'm not trying to," Adrian said, then paused. "It just happens."
Alessio didn't push further.
—
At lunch, Adrian was quieter again, but not closed off.
When someone spoke to him, he answered.
When Alessio said something, he listened.
But part of his attention was somewhere else.
Still stuck on the same thing.
"…If I remember everything," Adrian said suddenly, not looking at anyone in particular, "will it feel the same as before?"
Alessio looked at him. "What do you mean?"
"Like… will things go back to how they were?" Adrian asked.
Alessio shook his head after a second. "No."
Adrian finally looked up. "Why not?"
"Because too much time has passed," Alessio said. "Even if you remember everything, we're not five anymore."
Adrian thought about that.
"…So it'll just be different."
"Yeah," Alessio said. "But that doesn't mean it'll be bad."
Adrian didn't respond, but he understood.
—
When they got home, Adrian didn't go to his room right away.
He stopped in the hallway, thinking, then turned toward the study instead.
Marco was inside.
He looked up when Adrian entered. "You need something?"
Adrian stepped in, a bit unsure but not backing out. "I want to ask something."
Marco set his papers aside. "Go ahead."
Adrian took a breath. "Before… when I was taken… was anyone else there?"
Marco's expression changed slightly, more serious now.
"You already know Alessio was with you," he said.
"I mean after that," Adrian clarified. "Where I stayed… was I alone?"
Marco didn't answer immediately.
"…No," he said finally.
Adrian's stomach tightened. "There were other people?"
"Sometimes," Marco replied carefully. "But not for long."
Adrian frowned. "What does that mean?"
Marco leaned back slightly. "It means people came and went. You didn't stay in one place your whole life."
Adrian processed that quietly.
"…So there might be more things I don't remember."
"Yes," Marco said.
Adrian nodded slowly. "Okay."
He turned to leave, then paused.
"…If I remember something bad," he added, still facing the door, "does it get easier after that?"
Marco didn't sugarcoat it.
"No."
Adrian tightened his grip on the door handle.
"…Then why do people say it's better to remember?"
Marco answered without hesitation. "Because ignoring it doesn't make it go away."
Adrian stood there for a second longer.
Then he nodded once and left.
—
That night, Adrian didn't open his book.
He didn't write in his notebook.
He just sat on his bed, thinking.
About the garden.
About Alessio.
About what Marco said.
There were still gaps.
A lot of them.
But for the first time, it didn't feel like empty space.
It felt like something was there.
Something waiting.
Adrian lay down and stared at the ceiling.
"…If it comes back," he muttered quietly, "I'll deal with it."
It wasn't confidence.
It wasn't strength.
It was just a decision.
And for now, that was enough.
When he finally closed his eyes, sleep came faster than usual.
And somewhere in the back of his mind, he already knew—
The next memory wouldn't be as simple as the last one.