Minhyuk stands at his balcony, hands rested on the metal railing, eyes scrutinizing the mixture of white and grey clouds in the vast blue sky above him while he tries to recall the names he learned back in school and matches them with the ones he is seeing. A murder of crows fly past, and soon after a lone crow follows. He can’t help but wonders if the bird is an outcast, lost its way a little and struggling to keep up with the others, or just prefers to be on its own.

He heaves out a heavy sigh. It’s his day off today, but like his previous day offs, he doesn’t really have any plan in mind or even someone to spend the day with. It’s not that he doesn’t have friends, but somehow he prefers solitude. Somehow, due to the particular void space in his mind, he gave up making new memories because they all will be erased anyway.

Then he feels a sharp poke right on his cheek. A paper plane is swaying by his side when he glances, slowly tumbling down to the earth due to the gravity. He looks up at the direction it came from, and at the neighbouring balcony on his right, a girl is standing there with her eyes fixed on him. He is startled at the sight of her as he doesn’t remember anyone moving in next door, but he quickly assumes that perhaps he missed a photo on his wall or a page or two while reading his notebook this morning. It happens every once in a while especially when he wakes up late for work and only manages to skim through the faces on the wall and the words in the notebook without memorizing everything properly.

“Good morning!” the girl greets. Her voice is melodious and as bright as sunshine, and with her long golden hair which seems to dance whenever the wind blows and radiates under the sun, she reminds him of the pretty dolls he sees in stores. She is wearing a huge grin on her face, and although he doesn’t remember meeting her before, he gets this strange vibe in his heart that causes a fluttering feeling inside his stomach. “Nice weather today, isn’t it?”

He lifts his gaze to the sky and frowns. It isn’t really a sunny day since the sun is hiding behind the clouds, and the chillness of winter is still lingering even though spring has arrived for a while. He’s pretty sure he can smell the rain from a distance, too. “Well,” he hesitates.

The girl laughs suddenly, surprising him. “I’m sorry. I have a peculiar fondness to gloomy weathers like this.”

Minhyuk nods albeit not fully grasping it. They stay quiet for a minute, before he decides to untangle the knot in his mind and shoots his question. “Have we met before?” he asks, careful with his tone.

“No, not really,” the girl shakes her head. She stands straighter and her smile turns more formal and polite. “Actually I just moved in yesterday. You weren’t home when I knocked, and by the time I realized you were back, it was already late so I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Oh,” he nods again.

“I’m Joohee,” she says. Another wind flies past and catches her hair. He realizes that she’s only wearing a thin loose t-shirt over a pair of leggings, and wonders if she doesn’t feel cold. “Song Joohee.”

“Song Joohee,” he repeats. Pretty name, he adds, but doesn’t say it out loud.

“And you?”

He lets her name sinks into his mind, and hopefully into his memory as well before he replies. “My name is Lee Minhyuk.”

The girl named Joohee smiles once more, and instead of the courteous one she gave him previously, this time her smile is more relaxed and natural and warm. “Nice to meet you, Minhyuk,” she remarks.

He feels the fluttering sensation inside of him growing stronger the longer he stares at her. He forces the corners of his lips to stretch upwards and pray it doesn’t look odd. “Nice to meet you too, Joohee.”

They turn to look at the sky again. More dark clouds are piling up. The scent of the rain is filling the air. Most people are already scrambling in search for a roof over their heads to shelter themselves from the rain that has yet to fall. Minhyuk closes his eyes and breathes in deeply, taking in everything at the moment and wanting to remember it all. When he opens his eyes, Joohee is gone. He glances at the paper plane by his foot and reaches down to pick it up before heading inside.

Before going to bed that night, he writes a note and sticks it on the mirror so that he won’t miss it tomorrow morning. New neighbour next door. Song Joohee.

But he leaves the windows open that night. The next morning he wakes up late for work, and in the midst of rushing out, he misses the yellow note lying on the floor.

--

There is an eraser in Minhyuk’s head that wipes his memory clean on a daily basis every night while he sleeps. That causes him to not be able to recall the events that have happened for last six years. He falls asleep as a twenty-five-year-old and wakes up the next day as a nineteen-year-old again.

In order to keep track with the time, he would take pictures of the people he’s met and places he’s been to and sticks the polaroids on his wall, and jot down the information in a thick notebook, like a journal that basically sums up all the years he has forgotten. The temporary issues or quick reminders when he is in a hurry, ‘Jihyun noona’s wedding this Sunday (20 May 2012)’ or ‘Noodles restaurant across the road has closed down’ for examples, are written on sticky notes which he pastes all over the apartment.

Sometimes he wonder if his amnesia is a blessing, since he can’t remember if his mother was in a lot of pain before she passed away; or a curse because at times he would wake up from some nightmares in the middle of night, wondering where the hell he is and what is that hollow feeling in his heart.

Other normal days he spends almost obediently in the same routine ― work as the person in charge of outlining and filling the empty gaps with colour for a small manhwa publishing company at eight in the morning, leaves for home at six the latest, helps out at Eunkwang’s bar at night. He spends most of his day offs watching television if not reading books, strolling down the streets in the city when he feels like it, or paying his mother a visit.

His rituals are simple. Sometimes he likes it that way, sometimes he wonders if he’ll keep living the same routines until the day his heart stops beating.

--

Minhyuk meets Joohee for the second time outside their house days later when he comes home from work, except that he doesn’t remember meeting her before.

She is sitting down next to a flower pot with her back leaned against the concrete of his wall, her legs hidden behind her coat. She’s close to falling asleep, but the moment she catches the sight of him, her eyes instantly glisten. A smile graces her lips as she stands up, brushing off the invisible speckles of dust from her back. “I forgot my keys,” she simply says.

“Um,” he balks. He woke up early this morning, therefore he’s pretty sure he did not miss any polaroid on his wall or a page in his notebook. He tries hard to recall her face from his older memories but fails. At last he gives up. “Have we met before?”

She frowns at him a little. “Don’t you remember?” asks her.

He replies by shaking his head, fingers playing with his set of keys awkwardly. "Well, actually I―"

“I’m Joohee, your new neighbor.”

Minhyuk lets her words sink into his mind. “Oh,” he mumbles back. Then, noticing her expression and her pale lips, he queries, “Do you need something from me?”

“I forgot my keys,” she explains again. “And I was wondering if you could help.”

“What kind of help?”

She twirls her finger around her long golden hair, hesitating. “I, uh, I don’t lock the doors to my balcony,” she begins. “So… can you, well, climb over to my balcony for me?”

Minhyuk blinks once, twice, not knowing what to say. He scratches the back of his neck and stares at his new neighbor, pondering over her absurd request. He has a thousand reasons to turn her down, but twenty minutes later, he finds himself sweating profusely albeit the cold weather, welcoming her into her own apartment.

“You’re a lifesaver,” she tells him grinning from ear to ear.

“Er,” he looks down. “I’m sorry I don’t remember you. The thing is I―”

“It’s alright,” she interrupts, then adds with a voice barely audible. “No one does.”

He wants to ask, but somehow he lets it slide and get erased from his memory.

--