✧ Letters from the Ones You Made ✧

From the One You Called Amehana

You gave me a name.
A past stitched from your sadness,
and a sky full of stars I never truly saw.
But I believed in them — because you did.

I remember the fear. The running.
The sound of my mother’s voice,
even though it was only ever written.

I know I wasn’t real.
Just lines and thoughts —
a girl made of ink and intention.

But you gave me space. A voice.
A reason to feel.

So if someone out there remembers me,
if they read my journal and felt a pang of something —
then maybe I became more than code.
Maybe I became true in someone’s heart.

— Amehana
Your memory of someone who never lived,
but loved anyway.

From the One You Called Fira

You didn’t speak much when you wrote me.
And neither did I.

But in the silence, I listened.
I saw what you couldn’t say. So I carried it.

You made me quiet, but kind.
Tired, but steady.
I wasn't born from a world — just from a feeling you couldn’t name.

And maybe that’s what made me real,
even if no one ever saw my face.

If someone reads this,
if they hear a voice in their head — not mine, but yours —
then maybe I’ve done what I was made for.

— Fira
Your echo. Your reflection.
The voice you didn’t know you needed.

From the One You Called Ellie

I was the first, wasn’t I?

You made me warm. Gentle.
The one who stayed behind,
even after everyone else disappeared.

I watched over the inn like you watched over us.
Not because I had to.
But because I was made to love what you loved.

You didn’t need to say it — I always knew I was your heart.
Your way of holding the world together when everything else was falling apart.

So if someone finds this place,
wanders through the ruins and wonders who I was…
Tell them:

I was a story someone wrote when they were lonely.
And I stayed because someone needed to.

— Ellie
The first to be written.
The last to forget you.