[Kyle’s POV:]

She was a thief.

At least, that was my first impression of her.

A girl who had stolen my purse.

Back then, I regularly attended a dojo that was fairly famous for both its instructors and the quality of equipment it offered.

During that period, I was taking multiple classes at once, including martial arts for self-defense and archery.

The place was called Bridman Dojo.

I usually arrived there around five in the evening after finishing my first home tuition session, and I stayed until eight.

Two hours were dedicated to combat training.

The remaining hour belonged to archery.

Father never cared about when I returned home, so after classes ended, I often stayed behind to continue practicing my aim alone.

I refused to come second in the only thing I was even remotely good at.

Archery was the one skill that never disappointed Father.

But talent alone never carried me there.

I wasn’t some naturally gifted prodigy blessed with flawless instincts. Every inch of my skill had been carved out through relentless effort. I trained until my fingers split open, until the bowstring scraped my skin raw, until the cuts across my hands hardened into calluses.

Again and again, I forced myself forward.

Because if I wanted to master the bow, effort was the only thing I had.

That was why I stayed an extra hour at the dojo almost every day, devoting myself entirely to archery.

By eight o’clock, most of the students had already gone home, leaving the place nearly empty except for a handful of staff members.

One evening, while putting away my equipment, I noticed someone rushing out of the locker room.

I couldn’t tell whether it was a boy or a girl. All I knew was that they worked at the dojo. I had seen them several times before, usually cleaning the floors in silence.

Later, I found out they had stolen my purse.

Father was furious.

My identification card was inside it, along with my monthly allowance.

I don’t remember the details very clearly after that.

At some point during the punishment, I blacked out.

When I woke up the next morning, there was a bandage across my left cheek, and my left hand had swollen badly enough that even moving my fingers hurt.

I didn’t think much of it.

Pain was normal by then.

But when I arrived at the dojo, my martial arts instructor immediately noticed my condition and urged me to take a break for a few days.

He looked genuinely disturbed despite having nothing to do with any of it. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

Then he asked me what had happened to me that caused the punishment.

At that moment, I caught sight of the same person who had stolen my purse.

They looked terrified.

My combat instructor was an extremely strict man. He never tolerated lies, cheating, or dishonesty of any kind.

And somehow, the moment our eyes met, I understood what would happen if I pointed at them.

They would suffer the same way I had.

Back then, I viewed every adult through the same lens as Father.

Cruel.

Unforgiving.

So I stayed silent.

I lied to my instructor.

A few days later, I found my purse sitting inside my locker.

Half the money was still there.

Along with a small note.

’My grandmother was sick and I needed money for medicine. I am sorry... and thank you.’

I don’t remember exactly what expression I had while reading it.

But I do remember the strange warmth spreading through my chest.

Someone had appreciated me.

Someone had thanked me.

At that age, my understanding of emotions was honestly twisted beyond reason. Even now, when I think back to that moment, the clearest memory I have is of the tears quietly falling from my eyes as I held that note.

...

That was my first impression of Veronica.

A thief.

But an honest one.

.....

[Third Person POV:]

"Mm..."

Kyle slowly opened his eyes, his vision greeted by faint silver light spilling across the room.

Bit by bit, clarity returned to him.

The soft mattress beneath his body, the sterile white ceiling above, and the sharp scent of disinfectant lingering in the air made it obvious.

He was in a hospital.

The last thing he remembered was Ava gravely injuring him.

She had provoked him perfectly, deliberately spewing vile words about Layena until anger drowned out his judgment.

And he had fallen for it completely.

The moment rage overtook him, he charged straight at her.

Looking back on it now, even Kyle himself would call it irrational. He had done exactly what his opponent wanted.

Yet strangely enough...

He didn’t regret it.

Seeing Ava groan in pain, even for a moment, hurting her even slightly...

The memory brought him a deep sense of satisfaction.

"How do you feel?"

A familiar voice pulled him from his thoughts.

Kyle turned slightly toward the left and first noticed a sleeping figure resting beside the bed.

Amanda.

Her head leaned awkwardly against the bedframe, eyes closed, clearly having fallen asleep while waiting for him.

The position looked terribly uncomfortable, but instead of waking her, Kyle shifted his gaze toward the actual speaker.

"Yeah... I’m fine."

Veronica stood nearby, watching him closely.

Concern was plainly visible in her eyes.

And now that he looked carefully, Kyle noticed the faint traces of redness lingering around them.

She had cried.

In a soft voice, Kyle said,

"You never mentioned anything about your grandmother..."

Veronica froze slightly.

Her gaze trembled faintly as she stared at him.

"Kyle... you..."

"I remember parts of it," he admitted quietly. "I never really asked you back then, did I? About your guardians?"

For a few moments, Veronica said nothing.

She looked genuinely shaken that, out of all the blurred memories from that time, he still remembered her grandmother.

Then, slowly, a faint smile appeared on her lips.

"She passed away seven years ago," Veronica said softly. "Though honestly... if not for the help you gave me back then, she probably would’ve died much earlier."

Kyle smiled weakly in return.

"I’m glad to hear that."

His gaze drifted slightly, distant memories surfacing within his mind.

"Though... I wish I could’ve helped with more than just money."

He remembered fragments of it now.

The lonely girl quietly dusting windows.

Cleaning the floors after everyone had left.

Always silent and to herself.

Kyle slowly raised his hand toward her.

Veronica hesitated.

Her eyes instinctively shifted toward Amanda, who was still asleep beside the bed.

But Kyle didn’t seem concerned about that right now.

He already knew he would have to explain everything to his girlfriend eventually.

Still...

At this moment, all he wanted was to feel Veronica’s presence beside him again.

After a brief pause, Veronica slowly stepped forward and gently took his hand into hers.

The warmth of her skin made Kyle release a quiet sigh.

It felt familiar.

Comforting.

Almost nostalgic.

After a moment of silence, Kyle spoke softly,

"Give me some time, Veronica..."

His fingers weakly tightened around hers.

"I think... I’ll remember everything eventually. About you... about us."

A faint smile appeared on his face.

"And somehow, I can already tell those memories will be beautiful."

Veronica’s eyes glistened almost instantly.

Moisture gathered faintly at the corners as a soft, radiant smile bloomed across her face.

"I’ll wait for you," she whispered while nodding gently.

°°°°°°°°°

A/N:- I felt that memory part could be done best in first person. Thanks for reading.