He Remembers Me Too

They erased me from the world.

But not from him.

...----------------...

The next day, Jin’s not there.

No clipboard. No cryptic gaze. No questions.

Just the sterile silence of the facility and the weight of being awake in a world that wants me asleep.

I try to focus. Move like they expect me to. Breathe like the others. Smile without teeth.

But the storm in my head keeps getting louder.

And I can’t stop wondering:

Who the hell is he?

He knew my ID.

He knew I glitched.

He looked at me like he knew me.

Not the version they programmed.

But me — before all this.

...----------------...

Later that evening, I’m taken to Med Block 4. Routine neural mapping, they say.

But it’s not routine. Nothing is anymore.

The room is colder than usual. Two guards outside. One inside.

And him.

Jin.

He’s sitting behind a reinforced glass panel, facing the monitor, typing something.

He doesn’t look up when I enter.

“Sit.”

His voice cuts through me. Calm, cold — calculated. Like he’s someone else now.

I sit.

A mechanical arm lowers the neural band onto my head. My fingers twitch.

He finally looks at me — and there it is again.

That flicker.

Of something he’s not supposed to feel.

...----------------...

“You shouldn’t be here,” I whisper.

“I could say the same.”

He presses a few keys. Data floods the screen. My scan. My profile. My fabricated life.

“SR-08. Wiped twice. Memory core re-synced six months ago. You’re not supposed to have identity recall.”

I don’t answer.

He leans back in his chair.

“Why do you think they wiped you again?”

The question hangs heavy.

I didn’t even know I’d been wiped twice.

...----------------...

“Something went wrong,” he continues. “A sync error during a field test. You started mimicking the Original too well.”

His fingers tap the desk. “They thought you believed you were her.”

I look up sharply.

He meets my eyes.

“And the worst part?” he says softly.

“You did.”

...----------------...

Flashes slice through my brain.

A piano. A red ballroom. A scream.

Gunfire. My hands, covered in blood.

...----------------...

“Was it real?” I ask.

He watches me for a long time.

Then, almost reluctantly: “Some of it.”

I grip the edge of the table.

“I need to know who I was. Before all this. Before they broke me.”

He stands.

Walks to the edge of the glass.

And for the first time, something fractures in his voice:

“I remember you, Sera.”

My breath stutters.

“You weren’t a copy. Not always. You… you used to be someone else.”

...----------------...

He reaches into his pocket.

Pulls out a folded square of origami. A crane.

My throat tightens.

“I didn’t fold that.”

He nods. “You did. Two years ago. You left it in Lab B, after the fire.”

Fire.

My mind reels.

There was a fire.

That was real?

“You saved me that night,” he says. “You didn’t even know me. But you pulled me out.”

My voice trembles. “I don’t remember.”

“You will.”

He slides the crane through the crack in the glass.

And for a moment — for a split second — I feel human again.

...----------------...

When I return to my cell, I unfold the crane.

Inside is a message. Scrawled in sharp ink, unmistakably mine.

“They made me forget.

But I left pieces.

Find them.”

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