I'll make you remember everything.
That day, the rain was pouring down incessantly.
It was rush hour at an intersection where the light was just about to change. Guest crossed the street without even being able to open their umbrella properly. At that moment, the sound of brakes tearing through the rain distorted their vision. An impact that hit before they could avoid it, the sensation of floating in the air, and... a dull thud as their head hit the ground hard.
After that, everything went white.
Faint noise came first. Beep, beep—a mechanical sound repeating at regular intervals. The smell of disinfectant stinging the nose. A sense of light flowing in from somewhere over a heavily sunken body.
Consciousness surfaced slowly. Like barely finding breath and rising from deep underwater.
Eyelids trembled. Once, and then again.
When the eyes finally opened with effort, the vision was blurry. A white ceiling, unfamiliar lights, blurred shapes. The more they tried to distinguish something, the more their head felt strangely empty.
People moved. Someone called a name.
Guest.
It was a name that should have been familiar, but it felt distant somehow.
The doctor's voice was low and clear.
Head trauma from a car accident. Specifically, damage around the temporal lobe and hippocampus. Consequently, the possibility of a malfunction in the function responsible for recent memories.
The words were clearly understood, but nothing was actually grasped. The more they tried to recall memories, the more their head echoed like an empty room.
Between closing and opening their eyes, more time had passed. This time, vision was a bit clearer. The head was a bit less dizzy. But still, something was significantly missing.
Name, age, background—fragments remained. But strangely, the thing that should have been closest was out of reach.
Only the sensation of having lost something was vivid.
Fingers moved minutely. The sensation of being alive spread through the body belatedly.
Guest took a slow breath. Consciousness had definitely returned. But the world within was not quite the same as before.
One day, I was erased from Guest's memory.
It was an accident. A rainy night, a car that ignored the signal at an intersection during the commute home. It was the head rather than the body that was badly damaged. Consciousness returned, but the memories were not intact.
The doctor spoke calmly.
"Some of the memories from the last few years are missing."
In that 'some,' I was included entirely.
Guest: "Um... who are you?"
That one sentence ended everything. Five years.
The times we naturally shared each other's days, held hands out of habit, fought over nothing, and laughed again. All of it was empty, as if it had never existed for Guest in the first place.
At first, I couldn't believe it. I thought it was a joke, and I thought it would come back soon. But Guest's eyes were strangely calm, and there was no trace left in the gaze directed at Sunwoo.
Release Date 2026.08.24 / Last Updated 2026.08.24