Mira didn't move.
His words echoed in her mind.
"Stay."
The rooftop felt quieter now.
Too quiet.
As if the world below had disappeared.
She slowly nodded.
"Okay…"
He stepped closer to her.
Not touching.
But close enough that she could feel his presence.
"Don't panic," he said softly.
Mira let out a small, nervous breath.
"I'm already panicking," she whispered.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"Me too."
For a moment, that made things feel normal again.
But only for a moment.
Because suddenly—
The wind changed.
It grew colder.
Stronger.
Mira's hair moved across her face.
"Do you feel that?" she asked.
He nodded.
"Yes."
The air felt heavier.
Like something was building.
Something unseen.
Mira's eyes slowly moved around the rooftop.
The bench.
The railing.
The door.
Everything looked the same.
But at the same time—
Not quite.
The edges of things felt… blurred.
Like reality itself wasn't stable.
Her heart began to race again.
"This isn't normal," she whispered.
Before he could respond—
A sound echoed.
Soft at first.
Then clearer.
Laughter.
Mira froze.
"That…" she whispered.
He turned slightly.
"You hear it too?"
She nodded slowly.
"Yes…"
The laughter didn't belong to them.
It sounded distant.
Like it was coming from another place.
Or another time.
Mira's chest tightened.
"It's coming from there," she said softly.
She pointed toward the bench.
The same spot where they had seen the figures before.
The wind grew stronger.
The air shimmered slightly.
And then—
It happened.
Right in front of them—
The space near the bench… shifted.
Not fully.
Just enough.
Like a thin layer of reality had moved.
Mira's eyes widened.
"Do you see that?" she whispered.
"Yes," he said.
His voice steady.
But lower now.
Because he understood—
Something was about to happen.
The air in that spot began to glow faintly.
Soft.
Golden.
The same light from her dream.
Mira's breath became uneven.
"It's the same…" she whispered.
Without thinking—
She took a step forward.
"Mira—" he started.
But she didn't stop.
Because something was pulling her.
Not physically.
But emotionally.
Like a memory calling her back.
She stepped closer to the glowing space.
And suddenly—
The laughter became clearer.
A girl's voice.
Soft.
Happy.
And then—
A boy's voice.
Familiar.
Too familiar.
Mira's heart pounded.
"Wait…" she whispered.
Her hand slowly reached forward.
Just inches away from the light.
And then—
Her fingers touched it.
Everything changed.
The wind stopped.
The sound disappeared.
The rooftop faded.
And suddenly—
Mira was no longer standing beside him.
She was standing—
Inside the moment.
The same rooftop.
But different.
The sky looked softer.
The light warmer.
And near the bench—
Two people stood.
Laughing.
Talking.
Mira's breath stopped.
Because she recognized them instantly.
It was her.
And him.
But younger.
Not teenagers.
Not children.
Something else.
Something she couldn't fully understand.
But she knew—
It was still them.
Her hands trembled.
"This…" she whispered.
Her voice didn't reach them.
It was like she was invisible.
Just watching.
The younger version of her was smiling.
"So you'll wait?" she asked.
The younger version of him smiled back.
"Always."
Mira's heart ached.
Because she had heard that word before.
Always.
Again.
Then the younger Mira spoke.
"Even if I forget?"
Her breath caught.
Because those were the same words.
The same pattern.
The same story.
The younger him nodded.
"I'll remember for both of us."
Mira felt tears form in her eyes.
Because now—
It wasn't just a feeling anymore.
It was real.
They had lived this before.
Somewhere.
Somehow.
The scene continued.
The younger Mira laughed softly.
"Then promise me something."
He looked at her.
"What?"
She smiled.
"That no matter how many times we meet…"
A pause.
Then—
"You'll find me again."
Mira's heart broke and healed at the same time.
Because she already knew his answer.
"I will."
The moment froze.
The light flickered.
And suddenly—
Everything shattered.
Like glass.
Mira gasped.
The scene disappeared.
The rooftop returned.
The cold wind rushed back.
And she stumbled slightly—
But this time—
He caught her.
"Mira!"
Her breathing was heavy.
Her hands shaking.
"I saw it…" she whispered.
He held her steady.
"So did I."
Her eyes widened.
"You… you were there too?"
He nodded slowly.
"Yes."
Silence.
Because now—
There was no doubt left.
This wasn't imagination.
This wasn't coincidence.
This was something real.
Something repeating.
Across time.
Across memories.
Across lives.
Mira looked at him.
Her voice trembling.
"How many times have we done this?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Because for the first time—
He didn't have an answer.