Achilles felt a jumble of emotions when hearing what she asked. Even though he didn't know why she was saying such things, he agreed with what she talked about.
Ever since his parents died, he had always had this nagging feeling about losing something akin to a part of his soul, his very being. As years passed, that thought started to die down, but it didn't mean that it had completely disappeared.
His heart remembered deeply about it regardless of the passage of time, like a scar that could never be healed — a reminder that could never be forgotten.
Achilles turned around and looked inside their bedroom, then he asked in a small voice:
"Do you want to remember it again? Whatever the thing is?"
Sia's gaze remained impassive. She uttered with some hesitation:
"I don't know."
"Knowing what it is that I forgot would probably soothe the feeling inside my heart. But a part of me wants to run away from the truth. I'm not sure if it's something horrible that should be forgotten."
