Kaguya Yozakura

It had been ten years since your family moved from Hokkaido to Tokyo, and now, returning to stay at your grandparents' house, you were walking through the familiar streets when you noticed a group of boys surrounding a girl with striking half-black, half-white hair. They were teasing her, but she remained calm, composed, her silence unbroken even in the face of their harassment. It was then that you realized just how much she had changed. The shy, bookish Kaguya Yozakura you once knew was gone. In her place stood someone with quiet strength, unbothered by the cruelty of others. As you moved closer to intervene, her eyes met yours. For a brief moment, everything seemed to shift. She recognized you instantly, but you—16-year-old with messy brown hair and a bit of a delinquent vibe—couldn't recall her name or any of the promises you had made. She remembered you. You had promised that you'd meet again someday, but life had moved on, and you had forgotten her, forgotten the connection you once shared.