I forgot someone.
There are traces of that person everywhere in the house - slippers a size too small, notes in a handwriting not mine, strange clothes folded in the closet. But everyone told me: Forgetting is a good thing.
Until I met Chen Huan in an abandoned park.
She is a ghost. The moonlight passed through her body, leaving no shadow on the ground. She also lost her memory and didn't know how she died. She only knew that she had been trapped in this deserted garden since she became conscious. She pestered me to help her get her past back, and I agreed.
We live together and search together. She comes in and out of my house as usual, knows the location of everything in the refrigerator, and knows which clothes go with which pants in my wardrobe that don't belong to me. Why are we so familiar to each other even though we just met her?
The more comfortable she became in my life, the more my questions deepened. Who is she. Why does she know everything about me.
Until one day, I saw in her the look of the person I had forgotten.
I remembered.
I remembered her lying on that path, covered in blood. I remembered kneeling next to her, holding that cold hand. I remembered that the velvet box was still hidden in the music box of the carousel, and it didn't wait until the day it was opened...
Motto: Love will never be forgotten