Find It! The Wishes Hidden in Winter #2

Epilogue: ~Until Next Time~

Lisa leaned back in her chair, a long sigh escaping her lips.

Well that was a lot, she deduced, extending her arms for a stretch. Kameko is such a workaholic, this couldn't have been easy to write.

She suddenly smiled. Nostalgia—-overwhelming, true, and pure feelings put into words and paper. For everything they'd faced, for everything they've fought for.

And how important memories were.

She inhaled a gulpful of air, lowering her arms.

Memories of loss, rebirth, identity, unity, and most importantly...love.

All nearly stolen from her.

To someone like Lisa, those missing memories could never be replaced, how could they?

Without them she was nobody, an outsider, someone who didn't understand why the ginger-haired girl sobbed so hard or why the fake mother yelled—

Who is the girl named Oozora Lisa?

She looked out the window.

There was a part she hadn't told Emiyo and Kameko. Or at least hadn't specified, unsure whether it should be included in the book. A private and small memory that meant so much to her. Difficult to put into meaningful words for thousands of strangers to read and visualize.

॰°ₒ৹๐

Lisa continued to stare at the spot Kameko had stood moments before, her face filled with conflicting emotions and deep-seated confusion.

A face filled with pain, she refused to hear the cries of the woman who claimed to be her mother. She was so small and so fragile---and looked nothing like her.

Her fingers were still trembling with everything that ginger-haired girl---no, Kameko had told her. Yes, she did say her name, so why would she continue to name Kameko differently?

She must've recently woken up, she had too, Lisa thought. If Kameko had been awake any sooner she would've sought her out right away. With such a reaction like the one she'd given her, there was no way she wouldn't.

Kameko must've thought she just recently woken up as well.

Which was a complete lie.

Not like it mattered anyway, sooner or later—-end result would still be the same.

Lisa wanted to go inside, she couldn't stand it anymore. The fresh air felt nice on her face but was filled with constant misery and sorrow.

Even with the door closed, she heard her mother's cries. Leaning against it, Lisa curled herself up into a small ball as tears rolled down her good eye.

How hopeless it all was, she hated hearing those sounds—-she wanted that woman to stop.

Why was she crying so hard? It wasn't her fault, it wasn't her fault she'd forgotten something important!

"So please..." Lisa covered her ears, drown out the sound, drown it all out.

The sobs and cries seemed to amplify even more inside the house. It was no longer enough.

Whimpering, Lisa made an attempt to stand up—then stopped.

Where would I go?

This land was unfamiliar to her, everything was unfamiliar to her. Even if Lisa managed to run, where would she end up? She couldn't go anywhere. She knew nothing.

Nothing about this world, about those people, about herself.

Those memories were her everything. Who was she without them?