Chapter 1: The House That Remembers
The wind moved slowly across the terrace, carrying a silence that felt older than the night itself. The house stood alone, surrounded by a wild, overgrown garden that had long forgotten what care felt like. Once, it must have been beautiful. Now, it only breathed memories.
Harden sat at the edge of the terrace, a worn-out notebook resting in his hands. The faint yellow light from a broken lamp beside him barely touched his face, leaving most of him hidden in shadows. He hadn’t moved for hours.
Below him, the garden stretched into darkness—dead roses, cracked pathways, and trees that whispered when the wind passed through them. Everything about this place felt frozen in time.
Just like him.
He looked down at the blank page for a long moment before finally writing a single line.
“Some memories are not meant to be remembered… but they never forget you.”
He stopped.
His fingers tightened around the pen.
For a second, his eyes closed—as if he was trying to hold something back. But memories are cruel. They don’t wait for permission.
And just like that…
He was no longer on the terrace.
The noise of students filled the air. Laughter, footsteps, conversations—life everywhere.
College.
Bright sunlight replaced the darkness. The world felt normal. Alive.
Harden stood near the entrance, silent, distant, watching everything like he didn’t belong there.
Because he didn’t.
He kept his distance from everyone. No friends. No conversations. No mistakes.
But that changed the moment he saw her.
Latte.
She stood near the staircase, laughing with her friends, her voice light and effortless. There was nothing unusual about her—no mystery, no darkness. Just a simple girl living a simple life.
And yet…
Something about her pulled his attention.
He looked away immediately.
This wasn’t new. He had learned long ago not to get involved. Not to feel. Not to notice.
But fate doesn’t care about rules.
The next few days passed quietly.
Same classes. Same seats. Same silence.
Until one moment changed everything.
“Why are you always alone?”
Harden looked up.
Latte was standing in front of him.
For a second, he said nothing. Words felt unnecessary. Dangerous.
“I like silence,” he replied calmly.
She smiled slightly. “Or maybe you’re just hiding.”
That one sentence stayed with him longer than it should have.
Because she wasn’t wrong.
Days turned into a pattern.
Short conversations. Small glances. Unspoken questions.
Latte talked easily. Harden listened more than he spoke. But slowly, something shifted. A connection—quiet, fragile, and unexpected.
And for the first time in a long time…
Harden felt something close to normal.
But normal doesn’t last.
One evening, as the sun disappeared behind the buildings, Harden followed her.
Not too close.
Just enough to keep her in sight.
He didn’t know why he was doing it.
Maybe curiosity.
Maybe instinct.
Or maybe something darker.
Latte’s house was small but full of life.
Voices came from inside—laughter, arguments, chaos. Four siblings living together, sharing space, sharing moments. A kind of warmth Harden had forgotten existed.
He stood across the street, watching silently.
For a brief second…
He imagined himself inside that house.
Sitting with them.
Laughing.
Living.
Then reality returned.
His jaw tightened.
That life wasn’t his.
It never would be.
A sudden sound broke his thoughts.
A heartbeat.
Fast.
Close.
Too close.
Harden froze.
His eyes darkened slightly.
The hunger rose without warning.
Sharp. Burning. Uncontrollable.
He stepped back immediately.
“No…” he whispered under his breath.
This was exactly why he stayed away.
Why he avoided people.
Why he avoided her.
Because the closer he got…
The harder it became to control what he really was.
Back on the terrace, Harden opened his eyes.
The night had deepened.
The wind had grown colder.
He looked down at the notebook again.
This time, his expression was different.
He wasn’t calm anymore.
“She shouldn’t have met me…”
he said quietly.
Then he wrote again—
“This is where everything began… and where everything will end.”
Far below, in the darkness of the garden…
Something moved.
Harden slowly lifted his head.
He felt it.
That presence.
Familiar.
Old.
And dangerous.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
Not human.
“Looks like I’m not the only one who remembers…”
