Snow Falls on the Silent Lonely Mountain

For days after the camping trip, Johnny kept his distance.

I didn’t mind. Those days slipped by in easy peace, filled with jokes and Jeremy’s company. He had a tough exterior, but underneath, he was surprisingly soft.

Quietly, he remembered I hated cilantro. He’d buy me hot milk tea when I had cramps. And when a stray basketball hit me, he exploded—right there in front of the whole school.

“Leah is under my protection!” he’d shouted, his voice cutting through the courtyard. “Anyone who touches her again will regret it.”

That day, he stepped in front of me, his silver hair catching the sun like a knight’s helm. After that, the way our classmates looked at us shifted. The whispers began.

I ignored them. Jeremy couldn’t have cared less.

We were friends. Just friends. That was enough.

Johnny, however, clearly thought otherwise.

That afternoon, he blocked my path home.

He looked thinner, dark circles faint under his eyes. His gaze was complicated—a dense, unbreakable fog.

“Are you with Jeremy now?” he asked bluntly, his voice tight.

“What’s it to you?”

“It is to me!” He stepped forward, grabbing my wrist with a force that surprised me. “Leah, you can’t be with him. He’s not a good person.”

I tried to pull away, but his grip tightened.

“Whether he’s good or not, I’ll be the judge of that. What right do you have to question me, Johnny? As my ex? Or just a classmate?”

My words made him flinch. His hold loosened.

Right. We were nothing.

I wrenched my hand free and looked at him coldly. “My life isn’t your business.”

I turned to leave.

“Leah!” Desperation edged his voice. “Is it because of Kathleen…? I can keep away from her. From now on, I’ll only be good to you. Just… come back. Please?”

I stopped but didn’t turn.

*Only be good to me?*

I’d heard that promise for four lifetimes. I was done with it.

“Johnny, it’s too late.”

I walked away and didn’t look back.

I thought that would be the end of it. That he’d finally let go.

I never expected a single, sudden event would shove everything into an irreversible fall.

The class fund went missing.

Five hundred dollars, to be exact.

The last person who’d handled the money was Johnny—he’d been in charge of collection. With his background—a drunk, violent father and a bedridden mother—everyone agreed he had the strongest motive.

Almost instantly, the rumors swirled. Suspicion and accusation surged toward him like a tide.

He stood alone at the center of it, defenseless. The scene was identical to my past memories.

I knew the truth. The money was stolen by the usual bullies who picked on him. I even knew where the evidence was—wedged in the lining of the trash can at the back of the room.

In every cycle before, I’d been the first to defend him. I’d fought to find the proof and clear his name.

This time, I just sat at my desk and watched, cold and detached.

I was waiting.

Waiting for the right moment—one that would finally set me free.

Johnny was called to the homeroom teacher’s office. He came out with red-rimmed eyes.

Instinctively, he looked at me. His eyes held helplessness, a silent plea.

He wanted me to believe him. To help him. Like I always had.

I met his gaze and slowly shook my head.

The light in his eyes died.

After school, I “happened” to find the crumpled bills in the trash can—and was “coincidentally” spotted by the student on duty.

The truth came out. Johnny was cleared.

Everything went flawlessly. No one suspected a thing.

As I was leaving, Johnny caught up to me.

He grabbed my arm, his grip bone-crushing.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” He stared, his eyes bloodshot.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I replied calmly.

“You knew where the money was! Why didn’t you speak up sooner? You wanted to see me humiliated—wanted everyone to doubt me!” His voice rose, nearly a shout.

Passing students turned to stare.

Looking at his flushed, agitated face, I suddenly smiled.

“Yes. I did it on purpose.” I leaned close, my whisper for his ear alone. “How does it feel, Johnny? To be falsely accused?”

His whole body jolted. His pupils shrank to pinpoints.

He stared in disbelief, lips trembling as he forced out the words.

“…The fourth time… the wedding… the sleeping pills…”

My smile froze.

He was looking at me, but the confusion from before was gone—washed away by a flood of pain and regret.

“I remember… Leah, I remember everything.”

“Our child… the one we never…”

He reached for my face, but I slapped his hand away hard.

“Don’t touch me!” I snapped, trembling with fury and fear.

How could he remember?

The System said memories were wiped clean with every reset!

**[ALERT! ALERT! Target data anomaly! Memory recall phenomenon detected! System analyzing cause…]**

A sharp alarm screamed in my mind, but I couldn’t focus.

I was staring at the man I’d loved for four lifetimes—and hated for just as long.

His memories had awakened.

He remembered all my pain, all my suffering.

And now, I could no longer easily be rid of him.

A tidal wave of panic seized my heart.