To Forget and Be Forgotten

I couldn't sleep properly that night.

Rain continued tapping softly against the roof while weak firelight flickered across the walls of the house.

Every time I closed my eyes—

I saw her again.

Standing in the rain.

Blood running from her mouth.

That sound.

Steel breaking between her teeth.

I still didn't understand what I had seen.

No—

I understood it perfectly.

That was the problem.

People couldn't do things like that.

And yet…

when I looked at her now, sleeping quietly beneath worn blankets near the wall—

she didn't look dangerous.

Just tired.

Too tired.

I leaned slightly against the chair near the fire and watched her for another moment. Long black hair scattered across the pillow. Her breathing was slow. Almost unnaturally calm. Even in sleep, her expression barely changed. Like her body had forgotten how to relax completely.

"…Who are you?" I murmured quietly.

No answer came back.

Of course not.

The rain grew heavier outside. My gaze drifted slowly toward the side of her mouth again.

No wound.

I was certain I had seen it earlier. The blade had cut deeply enough to draw blood. But now—

nothing remained.

Not even a scar.

A cold feeling settled uneasily in my stomach. I looked away.

Maybe exhaustion was making me imagine things. Maybe the rain distorted what I saw. Maybe—

I let out a quiet breath.

Lying to myself already felt pointless.

Still…

she hadn't hurt me.

If anything, she looked more afraid than dangerous.

That thought stayed with me longer than expected.

Eventually, the fire burned lower. And sometime before dawn—

I finally fell asleep.

Morning arrived quietly.

The rain had stopped. Weak sunlight filtered through the trees outside while cold mist lingered around the forest.

I woke first.

The house still smelled faintly of smoke and herbs. For a moment, I forgot she was there.

Then I noticed the cot near the wall.

Empty.

I immediately stood up. A faint sound outside the house made me pause. I opened the door slightly.

She stood near the edge of the trees silently, staring into the forest. The morning light made her look strangely pale. For a second—

she almost didn't look real.

"You're awake early," I said.

She glanced back toward me slowly.

"…Sorry."

There it was again.

Apologizing for existing.

I folded my arms lightly against the cold air. "If you're going to stay around here for now, you might as well help me."

A faint pause.

"Help?"

"I need to collect herbs before noon."

She looked toward the baskets hanging beside the doorway. "…For medicine?"

"Something like that."

She didn't ask further.

At least not immediately.

A little later, we walked deeper into the woods together.

The forest paths were narrow and damp from the previous night's rain. Sunlight barely reached the ground beneath the thick trees. She stayed unusually quiet while following behind me. Not awkward quiet. Observing quiet. Like she was constantly thinking about something else.

I knelt near a cluster of pale blue plants growing beneath the roots of a fallen tree. Carefully, I began cutting them near the stem.

Behind me, her voice finally broke the silence.

"…Those herbs."

I glanced up slightly. "What about them?"

"You had a lot of them in your house."

I placed the herbs carefully into the basket. "They help slow the curse."

Silence followed.

Then—

"…Curse?"

Her voice sounded quieter this time. I stood slowly. For a moment, I considered avoiding the conversation entirely.

But eventually—

"You really aren't from around here."

"No."

I looked deeper into the forest ahead. "In Norvale, people sometimes get sick."

"Sick how?"

I hesitated slightly. How was I supposed to explain something like that normally?

"…At first it's small things," I said quietly. "Headaches. Trouble sleeping. Forgetting words."

She listened silently.

"Then eventually they lose their senses."

A faint shift in her expression.

"They stop seeing."

I continued walking slowly.

"Then hearing."

The forest suddenly felt colder.

"After that… touch. Taste. Smell."

Her footsteps behind me slowed slightly.

"And before long," I finished quietly, "they stop remembering who they are."

Silence.

Only birds and distant wind filled the space between us now.

"…Does it kill them?" she asked eventually.

I tightened my grip slightly around the basket.

"…Anything but that."

For some reason—

that answer always sounded worse.