"Kiana… she likes clothes that are… comfortable and easy to move around in… She always said… complicated clothes… although pretty… but… uncomfortable… She didn't like them…"
Mei's voice was faint, but the fondness and weakness within it were easily discernible.
The young man kept trying to find topics, but Mei's every sentence mentioned Kiana. He seemed awkward but persisted in talking with Mei.
Kiana understood Mei's condition; if she truly fell asleep now, the chances of waking up again...
She... she didn't fall asleep, right...?
After all, Mei is fine right now...
Thinking this, Kiana breathed a sigh of relief.
But the following conversation turned Kiana's flicker of certainty into silence.
"You… and Kiana… are very similar…" Mei said softly, her voice sounding incredibly distant in the night sky. As if it would fade away the very next second.
The young man's eyes widened. "Really?"
Just those two words confirmed that the young man clearly knew Kiana at this point.
But Kiana had absolutely no memory of this...
Did I already know him back in Nagazora City?
"You are… more considerate than Kiana… You can take care of yourself… and you can also take care of others… You like to think and analyze… you're more calm…" Mei whispered close to the young man's ear. Her eyes, barely open, revealed a deep, unsettling sadness.
Kiana could see it, but the young man, apparently still happy that Mei could talk so much, couldn't. He was actively trying to keep Mei's attention focused on the conversation.
"So..." Finally, at the very end, from Kiana's perspective, Mei gently closed her eyes. A single crystalline tear escaped, looking exceptionally striking in the darkness.
The tear landed on the young man's shoulder. He looked up but couldn't find the moon.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."
Finally, at the barely audible threshold, Mei's voice faded: "Shu… If you… can find Kiana… please… take care of her… Thank you…"
"..." Not only the young man fell silent, but also an incredulous Kiana.
"Shu......... leave me here........."
"Mei?" the young man called out tentatively, his voice trembling with disbelief.
Kiana rushed forward urgently.
The girl grabbed her arm. "Miss Kiana, this is a memory." She had to remind Kiana.
"This is impossible!" Kiana stopped trying to rush forward but shook her head vigorously. "Mei is fine! She's perfectly fine on the train!! This can't be real!!"
"That's why this is a unique memory..." the girl said seriously. "Unique, understand? Only he experienced this..."
"What is fantasy, and what is real... You should be able to distinguish, Miss Kiana."
Kiana said no more, though her heart still refused to believe that what she saw was real.
But this was a memory... a... record of the past [Memory].
She gritted her teeth, watching the young man stand rooted to the spot, head bowed, silent.
Several drops of blood unknowingly fell, forming a large crimson pool at his feet.
Then, the young man lifted his shadowed, unreadable face and silently took a step forward.
"Don't even think about it..."
"What kind of trouble Kiana is... you know damn well..." On the dark street, the young man muttered, head down, trudging forward step by step, still mumbling in a voice too low for anyone else to hear.
"You think I haven't tried? That girl... is she easy to take care of? Do I have the ability?" Kiana listened to the young man's rambling.
All along the way, the young man had relentlessly pushed forward like this, talking, though to whom, Kiana didn't know.
"Eats so much in one sitting... all sorts of demands, and I can't control her... Who else but you can handle her?" the young man gritted his teeth. "So don't think you can just dump this chore on me. What do you take me for?"
"Wait... I'll find medicine... I'll definitely give you the chance to properly scold that Kiana girl..."
Kiana and the girl followed silently behind the young man, listening to his complaints. Yet, Kiana only felt her heart grow heavier.
She didn't know what the young man was looking for. He just walked straight ahead, without a destination, yet without a single hesitant step.
Just keep going forward... there must be a way...
After an unknown amount of time, they watched the young man ahead suddenly lose his balance, tumbling down along with the two girls.
He hadn't seen the turn in the road ahead. Blood loss seemed to have affected his vision and focus.
As he fell, Kiana instinctively reached out to grab him. This time, the girl didn't stop her, but Kiana couldn't reach him either.
Just before hitting the ground, the young man desperately shielded Bronya in his arms, taking the full impact on his front.
The bleeding from his arm wound had dried, but a new wound on his forehead started bleeding afresh.
After a long while, the young man lifted his blood-streaked face, looking with difficulty at the train station before him.
In that instant, there was light in the young man's eyes.
Staggering and struggling to his feet, the young man entered the station housing the train, placing Mei and Bronya in the center of the main hall.
Then, stumbling, the young man grabbed a fire axe and swung with all his might, breaking open a suitcase.
Unfortunately, no medicine.
Another one, still nothing...
Kiana watched the young man drop the axe dejectedly, extinguished like a snuffed-out candle in the station.
Then, she watched him stagger past the ticket gates onto the platform outside, staring blankly at the train parked there.
It was the predecessor to the Hyperion.
The young man stretched his arms towards the train, seemingly wanting to roar, yet utterly silent.
A loud crash came from behind. The young man turned numbly and saw the heavily damaged Honkai Beast behind him.
Kiana's pupils instantly constricted. The location of the Honkai Beast... was where Mei and Bronya were... They...
She looked dazedly at the young man, watching his expression shift from horror to dimness, watching his features twist into a grimace, contort, watching him finally roar.
But it was a cry of anguish.
Kiana followed his gaze and saw the damage on the Honkai Beast's head, and caught on the damaged part—
That scrap of orange cloth.
"Is that... me...?"