The moment the ring slid onto my left ring finger, unfamiliar memories came rushing in.
A white hospital room.
Ren standing by the window.
Me, crying on the bed.
—I won't think the me you meet next is really me.
My own voice echoed inside my head.
I drew a breath. But I couldn't return to the dark living room.
The me in the hospital room held out a silver ring to Ren.
—Give this to me when we meet again.
—Why?
—So you can throw it away.
My vision flipped upside down.
The lights came back on.
I was on my knees on the floor of my childhood home, pressing my left hand against my chest. The ring was definitely there. Ren was right beside me, but he made no attempt to touch me.
“What was that?”
“The memory you left in the ring.”
“I did?”
“You from five years ago did.”
The past version of me standing across from us had gone pale.
“I don't know any memory like that.”
“It was recorded after the memory was saved,” Ren said. “It isn't in your copy.”
“That's a lie.”
The past version of me took a step closer. Nana moved in front of me.
“Stop.”
“Outsiders should keep quiet.”
It was the same voice as mine, but it made my chest go cold.
“Nana isn't an outsider.”
When I said that, she twisted her lips.
“So five years from now, I chose a woman like that.”
“I didn't choose her. We became friends.”
“Isn't that the same thing?”
“No. People aren't possessions.”
I looked at Ren.
Those words were meant for him, too.
Ren didn't look away.
“Watch the rest of the ring's recording.”
“How?”
“If you say you're going to leave me, the second recording will open.”
“You made words the key again?”
“I didn't decide that. You did.”
Five years ago, I had planned everything carefully. I had copied my memories and entrusted the copy to Ren, while leaving another recording in the ring without telling the copy about it.
Who had I been trying to deceive?
Ren? My past self? Or the me I was now?
“Say it,” Ren urged quietly. “Say you're going to leave me.”
If I said it, I would learn something.
But saying the words he wanted me to say felt like following his script all over again, and I hated that.
“Before that, wake up my mother.”
I said it not to Ren, but to the past version of me.
“Not until you watch the recording.”
“Then I won't watch it.”
“Are you abandoning your mother?”
“Because I know you won't hurt her.”
Her eyebrows twitched.
“If I were you, I wouldn't run away with Ren while holding our mother hostage. You are me, aren't you?”
Silence fell.
Mother stirred faintly on the couch. When the past version of me turned her smartphone facedown, Mother's singing stopped.
“Five minutes,” she said. “I won't promise anything beyond that.”
Mother's eyelids opened.
“Mom.”
I tried to rush over, but Sara stopped me with her arm.
“Don't call her by name.”
Mother looked at the two of us with unfocused eyes.
“Kasumi...?”
It was the wrong name.
The past version of me went rigid.
“Mom, it's me. Mio.”
“Don't say your name!”
My shout and Mother's reaching toward the past version of me happened at the same time.
“Kasumi, you've come home.”
For just an instant, my sister's face overlapped the outline of my past self.
Then it was gone.
Mother fell asleep again, and the past version of me covered her mouth.
“What did you see just now?”
She didn't answer.
“Are you really me from five years ago?”
“Of course I am.”
“Mother called you Kasumi.”
“She’s just confused.”
Sara picked up the smartphone that had fallen to the floor. The screen displayed the identification number for the replicated memory.
The color drained from her face.
“No.”
“What?”
“The creator of this recording isn't Fujisaki Mio.”
Sara turned the screen toward us.
〈KASUMI_F_05〉
“Fujisaki Kasumi...”
Nana read my sister's name aloud.
The past version of me tried to snatch the device from Sara. Ren caught her by the wrist.
“Let go!”
“Ms. Kasumi.”
It was the first time Ren had called her by that name.
Her body went still.
Her face was still mine, but the way she cried had changed. She didn't tremble or make a sound; tears simply ran down her cheeks. I knew that way of crying.
My sister had never sobbed aloud in front of other people, not since she was a child.
“Why are you wearing my face?”
My sister didn't answer. She looked at Ren.
“You promised, didn't you? You promised to protect Mio.”
“That's why I came to stop you.”
“This girl doesn't remember anything. Not what you did to her, or what I did. That isn't Mio.”
“Do you remember, Sis?”
When I asked, my sister finally looked away from Ren.
“What happened five years ago? Do you know why I erased my memories?”
“I know.”
“Then tell me.”
“If I tell you, you won't be able to bear it.”
“Are you going to decide that for me, too?”
My sister's lips trembled.
“You've always been like this. You head straight toward the painful thing with a calm face. Even when I tried to stop you, you wouldn't listen if you believed you were right.”
“I'm still the same now.”
“No, you're not.”
“How am I different?”
“Back then, you needed me.”
That one sentence sounded less like anger than the truth.
Scenes from my childhood rose before me. On nights when thunder shook the sky, I crawled into my sister's bed. When Mom scolded me, my sister gave me half her ice cream on the balcony. When I got my first boyfriend in high school, and when we broke up, my sister was the first person I told.
And yet, all I had of those memories now were fragments.
“I'm sorry.”
My sister's face twisted.
“Don't apologize. Don't apologize with that face.”
“You're the one who stole my face.”
“I just wanted you back.”
“I'm right here.”
“No, you're not!”
My sister's scream made the glasses on the table tremble.
“Mio couldn't breathe whenever she saw white flowers. She threw up just hearing Ren's name. In the middle of the night, she'd scratch at her own chest until it bled. And now you say you love this man without knowing any of that. Isn't that just erasing that girl's pain?”
A dull ache spread through my left chest without me realizing it.
There was no wound. But the moment I heard my sister's words, a pain shot through me, as if a thin needle had pierced me from beneath the skin.
Ren started to approach.
“Don't.”
I stopped him.
“Don't touch me right now.”
Ren's hand froze in midair, then slowly lowered.
Three months ago, I would have thought that obedience was kindness. Now I couldn't help wondering whether he had predicted even this—that I would say these exact words.
Nana checked Mother's pulse as she spoke.
“Ms. Kasumi. If you want to protect Mio, stop threatening us. And stop using Mom as a memory key.”
“What do you know about family?”
“I don't. But I do know that Mio is scared right now.”
Nana's voice was quiet.
Returning the past and trapping someone in the past aren't the same thing.
My sister looked at Mother's sleeping face.
After a while, she slid the device at the edge of the table toward us.
“I borrowed Mio's face to deceive Ren. He created a memory vault that only responds to your voice and face.”
“Were you the sender of the DMs?”
“I sent the first three. After that, it wasn't me.”
“Then who was it?”
My sister didn't answer. She looked at Ren.
“Why don't you ask him?”
There was nothing to read in Ren's expression.
“It wasn't me.”
“Then who was it?”
“Mio from five years ago.”
“My past self again?”
“The saved memories aren't just one thing. There's the copy Kasumi took, the recording in the ring, and one more. I don't know where that recording is, either.”
Someone claiming to be his wife. My sister. Me from five years ago. And a third person who still hadn't been found.
I looked at my sister, wearing my face.
She looked back at me.
It wasn't a question of which one of us was real.
How many people were trying to survive as me?
“You don't have the right to decide anymore.”
“Do you?”
My sister's voice sharpened.
I stepped between them.
“I do.”
My sister looked at me.
“Even if I don't remember, I'm still me.”
“You're the convenient version of Mio that Ren created.”
“Maybe I am. But Ren can't decide what I choose from here on out.”
I tried to take off the ring on my left hand. It caught on my knuckle and wouldn't come off.
“Ren.”
“Yeah?”
“I'm leaving you.”
Ren's eyes wavered.
The ring grew hot.
The second memory opened.
The hospital room from five years ago. This time, it wasn't from my perspective.
My sister was the one holding the camera.
The me from five years ago lay on the bed, frighteningly thin. Ren was beside her.
—Kasumi. If I fall in love with Ren again after my memories are erased, stop me.
My sister's voice echoed.
—Why? If you love him, isn't that enough?
—Ren is the man who killed me.
In the video, Ren raised his head.
The Ren standing beside me now stopped breathing, too.
—More precisely, the man who tried to kill me.
The me from five years ago opened the front of her hospital gown.
An old surgical scar ran above her heart.
It was a wound my body didn't have.
“What does this mean...?”
The me in the memory stared into the camera and spoke to the me five years in the future.
—I'm the one contacting you while claiming to be Ren's wife. If you remember everything, don't trust him. Ever.
The video cut out.
The ring fell to the floor.
Ren took a step back, his face pale.
At that moment, a new DM arrived on my smartphone.
〈The Lover's Instruction Manual—Article Six〉
〈Next, he'll tell you that your heart is fake.〉
The instant I finished reading, Ren opened his mouth.
“Mio. That heart isn't yours.”