[Flashback – A year ago – A rainy afternoon, Old Library Balcony]
Sid and Chaya are sitting on a narrow stone balcony of the old library — tucked under a small roof, watching raindrops fall like music on the ground.
Books are scattered between them, along with half-eaten snacks and a shared cup of chai.
Chaya is sketching something absently on a paper napkin, her legs folded, eyes glowing with quiet joy.
Chaya:
"You know… this is my favorite kind of weather. Soft rain, silence, a book, and…"
She stops, looking at Sid with a teasing grin.
Sid (smiling):
"And?"
Chaya (softly):
"And you."
Sid chuckles, nudging her shoulder.
Sid:
"You're such a poet when it rains."
Chaya:
"And you're not?"
Sid leans back and watches her for a moment — her smile, the way her hair curled a little in the humidity, the concentration on her face as she draws tiny raindrops on the napkin.
He quietly whispers, almost without thinking:
Sid:
"Kaya."
Chaya (looking up, confused):
"Huh? What?"
Sid (grinning):
"Kaya. That's what I'll call you from now on."
Chaya:
"But that's not my name!"
Sid:
"It's mine for you. It sounds like calm, like wind, like someone who brings peace.
And it's hidden — like a secret only I get to say."
Chaya (blushing, touched):
"You and your random names…"
She leans against him, resting her head on his shoulder.
Chaya (softly):
"I like it. But only if you say it."
Sid smiles, looking out into the rain — never knowing how much that moment would later mean.
[Present – Outside the Bookstore – Early Morning]
Sid stands frozen on the pavement, the soft hum of the city waking up around him.
The origami butterfly rests delicately in his palm, but his mind is far away — caught in that rainy afternoon, on that library balcony, when "Kaya" was born.
A single tear rolls down his cheek.
Sid (whispers):
"Only I called her that… only me."
He clenches his jaw, trying to breathe, as the pain of confusion mixes with a strange hope.
Sid (to himself):
"She's not just in my dreams. She's real. She was here.
Why didn't she come to me? What is she hiding…?"
He walks slowly away from the bookstore, heart pounding.
But as he slips the butterfly into his wallet, he notices something else—
A faint fingertip smudge of charcoal pencil on one of the wings.
His eyes narrow.
Sid:
"She's still sketching…"
The smallest clue — but to Sid, it's personal. Chaya always carried a charcoal pencil, never a pen. Said pencils "felt more alive."
This wasn't a ghost.
It was Chaya.
Alive. Close. Watching.
And for the first time in a long while, Sid whispers her real name aloud.
Sid:
"Chaya…"
[ Later that Day – Sid's Apartment]
Sid sits at his desk, the butterfly placed carefully in front of him.
A notepad lies open. Pages filled with random notes, dates, sketches — old memories of her. Places they visited. Cafés. Libraries. Train stations.
He's drawing connections now.
He circles:
"Charcoal pencil"
"Kaya" nickname
"Origami butterfly"
"Poetry book – bookstore near Mira's Cove Café"
He runs his fingers through his hair — mind racing.
Sid (to himself):
"She's alive. She's here. Why hide? What happened that day…?"
He picks up an old sketchbook from the shelf. One Chaya once gave him. Her initials are scribbled faintly inside:
"C.S. – to my chaos, from your calm."
He flips through the pages and stops at a sketch — the old ruins near Riverbend. A place she loved to visit alone when overwhelmed. It was peaceful, quiet… almost forgotten.
Sid (muttering):
"If you're hiding… maybe you went back to your silence."
[ That Evening – Riverbend Ruins]
Sid walks through crumbled stones and ivy-covered walls. His flashlight glows dimly, the sun already set.
He scans the surroundings, calling softly:
Sid:
"Chaya… I know you're out there. I don't need answers right away…
Just show me you're okay."
No reply.
But as he turns to leave — he sees it.
A fresh charcoal sketch on the back of a stone slab.
It's of him.
Standing right there, just how he is now.
He gasps. Kneels.
His fingertips hover over the lines.
Sid (in a whisper):
"You were here… minutes ago."
He turns slowly — heart racing.
The wind picks up. Leaves rustle.
There's no one around.
But somehow… he doesn't feel alone anymore.
[Chaya's POV – Just moments before Sid arrived at Riverbend Ruins]
The wind swirled softly around her as she crouched behind the old broken arch, her fingers stained with charcoal dust. She had just finished the sketch — him, how she imagined he'd look standing there, searching… hoping.
But then…
She heard him.
His voice, raw, calling out.
"Chaya… I know you're out there. I don't need answers right away…
Just show me you're okay."
Her breath caught.
Her heart screamed:
"Run to him. Just this once. Show him you're here."
But her legs refused.
Because her mind whispered back:
"What if he still blames you?
What if he sees the blood on your hands, too?"
She turned, tears threatening to fall again, and vanished into the trees — just as he turned the corner.
[Moments later – Chaya's Safe Place – A small hidden cottage near the woods]
She entered quietly. A candle flickered near her writing desk. Her charcoal pencils lay beside a stack of torn pages — sketches of Sid. His laugh. His eyes. That smirk only she understood.
She sat down, her fingers trembling.
Chaya (to herself):
"You still carry my name, Sid… the name only you gave.
Kaya."
She holds a small object in her hand — the other half of a torn photo.
On it, Sid and Chaya are laughing, arms around each other on that old library balcony.
Her half still had his face.
She runs her thumb gently across it.
Chaya (softly):
"I still love you, Sid.
But until I know the truth of that night…
Until I know why I survived and why I remember nothing after your eyes closed…
I can't come back. Not yet."
She presses her head against the window, watching the stars above the ruins.
Unspoken:
She didn't know he'd found her sketch.
She didn't know he was closer than ever.
But something inside her stirred — a pull she could no longer ignore.
[ Midnight – Chaya's Cottage – Thunderstorm Outside]
Rain lashes against the windows. A distant thunder rolls as Chaya lies in bed, clutching the torn photograph.
Her eyelids flutter as sleep creeps in —
and a dream takes over.
[Dream Sequence – The Night Everything Changed]
The scene is broken, scattered like shattered glass.
Screams. Blood. A blade flashing. A fall.
She sees Sid's face — panicked, calling her name.
Then darkness.
Then — a faint whisper:
"Kaya… run."
She jolts up, gasping for air, drenched in sweat.
Chaya (panicked):
"Sid… you were there. You tried… but… what happened after that?"
She stumbles to her desk, flipping open her journal, hands shaking.
She writes:
Saw it again. The blood.
Sid passed out. I was still there. Someone else was there.
Why can't I remember their face?
Why didn't they finish what they started?
She clutches her head — frustration and fear building.
[Next Morning – Rainy Market – Somewhere in the City]
Chaya walks under a large umbrella, keeping her face tucked beneath her hoodie. The city's noise is comforting — chaotic, anonymous.
She stops at a small vendor — buying lemons and tea leaves. Something Sid used to brew for her when she couldn't sleep.
Down the same lane, Sid is walking under the same stormy sky, heading toward an old music store. He suddenly feels it again — that pull.
Sid (to himself):
"It's like she's nearby…"
They're separated by one narrow stall.
Chaya steps out, umbrella tilted low —
Sid turns, just as she passes behind him.
The air stills.
A brush of wind.
A scent — lemon and jasmine.
His heart skips.
Sid (whispers):
"Kaya…?"
He turns sharply.
But she's gone.
Again.
[Chaya – from across the street]
She watches him.
Tears fill her eyes.
Chaya (softly):
"You still feel me… don't you, Sid?
I'm getting closer to remembering…
But what if you hate me when I do?"