The single tear that had been sliding down his cheek suddenly burst into a flood. Nigel had no way of stopping the sobs that erupted uncontrollably from deep within. As he sank to the floor, crying, his sister rushed over, alarmed.
“What’s wrong? What happened?”
“No, it’s… nothing…”
“Nothing? What do you mean nothing when you’re crying like that? Come on, stop it already.”
Even as she scolded him, the tears wouldn’t stop. If anything, hearing her gentle voice only made them flow harder, soaking his cheeks. Through the hazy blur, Nigel could just barely make out the worried furrow of his sister’s brow.
Noona.
His older sister, much older than ■■■. The sister who’d doted on him since he was a little boy. She’d graduated college and become an adult years ago, always looking after ■■■. To him, she’d been more than a sister—she was basically a second parent.
Still sobbing, Nigel threw his arms around her.
She scolded him—“Why are you being all gross and clingy out of nowhere?”—but she hugged him back just as tightly. Nigel clung to his sister, smaller than him now, and wept without restraint. It felt so warm, so familiar, so comforting that he could hardly believe he’d ever forgotten her.
It took a long time for the tears to finally slow. His sister, sniffling herself now, shoved him toward the bathroom. A splash of cold water to his face helped him come to his senses a bit.
Thank god this was just an illusion. Crying like a baby to his sister at his age—how pathetic.
Still, it hurt to remember that this version of his sister wasn’t real. That thought made the tears threaten to fall again, but Nigel splashed more water on his face and forced himself to stop. No matter how much he cried here, it wouldn’t get him any closer to escaping this place. He had to stay sharp.
He gave himself a firm mental shake and walked back outside.
A glance at the clock told him it was well past eight. Shouldn’t his sister be at work? But she was still waiting for him. She patted the spot next to her on the couch, and he sat down. Her voice was gentle but filled with concern.
“What’s going on? Did something bad happen?”
“No. It’s nothing…”
Nigel shook his head, but she clearly didn’t buy it. This wasn’t one of those issues he could wave off with a weak excuse. She sighed, staring intently at him.
“If something’s wrong, tell me right away. Don’t scare me like that again.”
“It really was nothing. Just… got caught up thinking about the past. I won’t freak you out like that again.”
“You swear? Promise me.”
“Yeah. Promise.”
Despite the way she spoke to him like he was a kid, there was no awkwardness. She’d always talked to him like that, even after he turned twenty.
When their parents passed away and she suddenly became the head of the household, she’d only just started college. Nigel—back then still ■■■—had been in elementary school. Not exactly an age where he needed 24/7 care, but still far from independent.
A relative had offered to take Nigel in for a while, but she’d refused. It wasn’t comfortable to move in with relatives as an adult, and there was no way she could feel at ease leaving her little brother behind so soon after their parents had died. So she chose to make sacrifices instead.
Fortunately, Nigel had been a quiet, good kid. Both of them tried hard, and they’d gotten through it together. In the process, they’d made countless promises and rules. Some people found it pitiful that a child had to try so hard—but Nigel had no complaints. He’d been happiest when he was with her.
“What was your name again?”
“What? Out of nowhere? It’s ■■■, duh.”
“Oh… right.”
Even though he couldn’t hear it, the name not registering made him want to cry all over again. It was one thing to forget his own name—but to forget hers? That was too much.
Of all things, that was the one name he shouldn’t have forgotten.
Because… she was no longer alive.
The bright red blood that had covered the seat next to him—there was no way she’d survived that.
Maybe the version of her he was seeing in this illusion was the last intact image of her his mind could conjure. Even if he couldn’t make out her face clearly.
Nigel shook his head, trying to shake off the stubborn memories. He didn’t want to think about something so cruel right now. Instead, he focused on something—anything—more useful. Something that might help him remember more about his life on Earth.
“I want to see more of that thing. Like the one at the front door…”
“What thing?”
“You know, the… photo… all of us together… oh—album.”
The word finally came to him, and she nodded right away.
“Photo album? It’s in the master bedroom. Let’s look at it together.”
“But don’t you have to go to work?”
“It’s fine. Watching you bawl like that kinda killed the mood for the office, so I told them my little brother was sick and took a half-day.”
“Is that okay?”
“What else can I do if my brother’s not feeling well? Hang on, I’ll go change into something comfy.”
“…Okay.”
She came back quickly, dressed in something casual, and Nigel followed her into the bedroom.
It was their parents’ room. Though a few things had changed, it still looked exactly as it had when they were alive. The bed and the vanity were in the same spots, though no one used them anymore. When relatives came to visit, they sometimes used the bed, so the bedding had been changed, but the room still felt like time had stopped.
She opened the wardrobe. Most of it had been cleaned out, but a good portion of the clothes still belonged to them—her and Nigel.
From a corner of the closet, she pulled out a stack of albums and laid them out on the bed.
They sat side by side on the bed, flipping through the albums.
The faces in the photos were still blurred, impossible to make out, and there wasn’t much to be learned from them. But that didn’t matter.
Even without clear visuals, it was a happy time. In the old pictures, ■■■ and the rest of the family looked full of joy. Every time the seasons changed, they’d gone on trips together.
“There are a lot of pictures from overseas. Especially here—it looks like the same neighborhood over and over?”
“Well, we did live in Germany for about two and a half years. You were still really young then.”
He hadn’t known that. But now that she mentioned it, faint memories started to resurface. His mother was Korean, but his father had been German. They’d originally settled in Korea for his mother’s sake, but due to some circumstances on his father’s side, the whole family had moved to Germany for a while.
Those blurry memories began bubbling up—grandparents who’d seemed like strangers at first but became the ones he trusted most; a bully from the house next door; the kid from across the street who stood up for him; little cultural differences from living in a foreign country.
As he tried to remember more concrete fragments, Nigel looked up—and froze.
Maybe it was because he was dredging up old memories, but his sister’s face was… becoming clearer.
He studied her features carefully. Still a bit hazy, but no longer unrecognizable.
She looked a lot like him—long, thick eyelashes; sharp eyes; delicate features that gave her a sensitive look, yet an undeniably beautiful face.
His heart began to pound.
When he glanced back down at the photos, the faces in the album seemed just a little clearer too.
His father and mother were both tall and striking—his dad handsome, his mom beautiful. But the most beautiful thing in the pictures was how their eyes were filled with love and trust when they looked at each other. Like a perfect family portrait.
But at some point, the photos of the four of them together abruptly stopped.
Even after their parents disappeared from the album, the siblings kept traveling together. Not as frequently or to as many places, but still. Occasionally, friends or boyfriends of his sister joined them. Sometimes they traveled with relatives.
Right after their parents vanished from the pictures, both of them looked subdued—but slowly, their smiles returned. Smiles without a trace of sadness.
That was the life Nigel had lived.
Surrounded by love, without a care in the world.
A surge of longing and sorrow welled up.
Why had he left a life like that?
Why had he gone to some other world?
Why had he forgotten all of this—these memories that were painful, yes, but still worth remembering?
Why had that strange voice kept telling him to forget, over and over again?
These were memories he didn’t want to lose… ones that were too precious.
He still had no answers, even after flipping through the entire album. Only when he’d pored over every photo so thoroughly they felt imprinted on his eyes did Nigel finally step out of the room.
