If love were kind, it would let us forget.
But love is cruel.
It carves itself into your bones, lingers in the quiet places of your mind, and refuses to fade—even when the world does everything it can to erase what mattered most.
I used to think love was something loud. Something grand. Songs sung under the stars, vows shouted to the skies, the kind of thing heroes carried into battle.
But our love…
It was quiet.
So quiet, I think the world forgot to notice it ever happened.
Maybe we were never meant to be in the stories.
Just two ordinary students in a world too busy chasing greatness.
Two background characters who found something extraordinary in the little moments no one else cared to see.
I remember how she laughed when I failed my mana control exam.
How her voice softened when she whispered my name.
How we dreamed of nothing but simple things—peaceful things—in a world obsessed with power.
But now, her voice is gone.
Her smile is gone.
Everything is gone.
No one remembers her but me.
Her name, her face, her warmth—they've been stolen from the world, as if she never lived at all.
But I remember.
And as long as I breathe, her story won't end here.
Because love—true love—never disappears.
Even when the world does its best to forget.