Kiss the Stranger

“What?”

I couldn’t help but ask again at his unexpected request. He seemed to have anticipated my reaction and spoke evenly.
“I don’t have a name.”
“Oh….”

I was about to encourage him that it would come to him soon, but he spoke again first.
“So I’d like you to give me one—the name I’ll use until I recover my memory.”
I studied his face carefully. But there was no hint of jest in his expression.

He wanted me—of all people—to name him?
“I—I’ve never done anything like that.”
Flustered, I stammered, and he replied.

“I’d like you to. You saved me.”
“It wasn’t really saving… Anyone passing by would’ve done the same.”
Embarrassed, I denied it, but he grew serious.
“That’s not true—you saved me because it was you.”

He spoke calmly, but with force added.
“Because it was you.”
“…….”

“You don’t know me at all. What if I’m a criminal on the run? What if my amnesia is a lie and I’m just hiding, using you? What then?”
His words startled me, but when I looked into his face, I was certain.
“That can’t be.”

“You trust people too much. If it were me, I’d let someone die.”
He declared, and I bowed my head in shame.
“It’s just… my father always said to help others… It’s no big deal, really.”

He said nothing. When I looked up, he was still watching me, waiting for my answer.
“Even the cat has a name, but you’ve never called me anything.”
I couldn’t argue with that frown of his.

What should I do? I panicked. He must have a name—but to ask me? What could I call him? I hardly knew any names…
“Oh.”
Suddenly the perfect name came to me and my eyes lit up.

“Kamar?”
“Kamar?”
I nodded.
“It’s Rikal’s mother’s name. She was very brave.”

He stared at me, speechless for a moment.

“She was female?”
“She was his mother.”

I answered confidently. He paused, then sighed.
“Alright. Let it be so.”
“Kamar.”

I tested the name °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° on him. He said,
“Okay.”
At that, a sudden longing stole over me. When Rikal was newborn, his mother Kamar’s health was so frail that I’d made special chicken stew for her. My father grumbled that he never cooked for me, and my mother—

‘Someday I will, someday…’
And two days later, Father died in an accident.
That’s what farewells are—falling on you unprepared, out of nowhere.

“Yohan?”
He called my name. I blinked back to reality and looked up; he was peering at me. I forced a casual smile.
“Now it won’t be awkward when I call you. There were a few times before…”

“Yeah, even if it’s a cat’s name.”
Clearly teasing, I burst into laughter. It felt strange to be with someone again—I’d forgotten how joyous it could be. I even found myself wishing his memories would return just a few days later. Then he tilted his head and, before I could react, pressed a light kiss to my cheek and stepped back. My eyes widened in shock and he smiled.
“Thank you.”
His sudden gesture made me forget my earlier thought. Flustered, I mumbled, “Uh, you’re welcome,” and hurriedly turned away.

Living with another person—it was such a marvel.
It was the first time I’d realized it. He made me recall both sad memories and sweet longings, yet also made me laugh and feel fluttery excitement.
Had I ever experienced so many emotions in a single day?

The past was so distant I hardly remembered it. But this strange new change didn’t bother me. It was the first time I’d laughed so much alone—there wasn’t much to laugh about in solitude. Dizzy with all those feelings, I sat down at my workbench—when he suddenly asked from behind,
“What are you doing? What’s this?”
“Ah!”

Startled, I gave a small cry. Turning, I saw him smiling.
“Why so surprised?”
“Uh, nothing—just thinking…”

Embarrassed, I laughed and glanced at the half-finished tapestry.
“There’s someone who brings food once a month. I make this to give him so he’ll bring me what I need. This time I ordered a lot, so my workload increased.”
I didn’t mention it was because of him—after all, it was time to restock. I nodded to myself and watched his reaction. He stroked his chin, regarding the tapestry seriously.

“It’s good.”
Surprised by his praise, I said, “Oh, thanks.”
Thinking he was just being polite, I shrugged—but he grew serious.

“I mean it. If you finish it like this, it’ll sell at a high price. How did you learn to make such a thing?”
He still eyed the tapestry, so I grew shy and replied,

“Well… I’m alone here, so I got bored and asked that monthly delivery man to bring materials. My mother was very good at this, and I learned a bit from her. I thought it’d pass the time, and then…”

I grew more embarrassed as I spoke, fiddling with my fingers and looking down.
“When I finished a few, I needed things and didn’t want to trouble him directly, so I asked if I could sell them to raise money. Luckily they sold one by one, and since then I give him a finished piece every month and get what I need.”
He furrowed his brow further and said,

“…Really? With your skill, you could sell more than just a few usable items. Are you buying gold?”
“No way! What would I use gold for out here?”
I laughed and answered lightly.

“Ghurab brings me food and gas… Clothes, if a dish breaks I ask for a replacement… small things like lighters…”
He listened with a frown. When I finished, he finally spoke.
“So, when does that swindler come?”

“Swindler? What are you talking about… No, not at all.”
I shook my head quickly. He narrowed his eyes and glared.
“How can you be sure? He’s a swindler. He could be paying you enough to buy the entire oasis.”

“What… That’s impossible! Even if it were my mother’s land—this is just a few years of work, there’s no way to sell that much!”
I exclaimed in shock. It was absurd. Unless it was Mother’s property—
“Thanks for the high opinion, but really, no. Ghurab’s been so kind—coming every month for years just because of me. If he didn’t come, I’d starve. Thanks to selling these, I can buy necessities… Oh, I got that olive tree outside with money I earned.”

As I spoke, I realized something and my eyes widened. He frowned.
“What is it?”
“Oh, that.”

Blushing, I asked,
“There’s something I’d like help with. Is that okay?”
The frown on his brow softened slightly.

“What is it?”
“Let’s go outside for a moment.”
His hand shot out, and I grabbed it eagerly. My steps leaving the hut felt unusually light. He said nothing and let me lead him outside. We stopped under a cluster of palm fruit I couldn’t reach.

“There, those.”
I pointed upward and he looked up. He nodded, reached out, and plucked one effortlessly, then looked down at me.
“These?”

“Yeah.”
I beamed with joy.
“Could you pick them? I can’t reach…”

I’d wanted to buy a ladder but always delayed it for more urgent supplies. Thanks to him, the task was simple, and my heart overflowed.
He silently gathered the fruit, snapping each free until a small pile lay at our feet. He looked up at me.
“More?”

By then several palm fruits lay on the ground. I was so exhilarated I could hardly believe it. I’d always been alone, but here I was, receiving help—how moving. I felt tears threaten. I pointed at another cluster above and he smiled down.
“Yes!”
He lifted me again and set me on his forearm. I gasped, and he grinned. I met his smile.

I was happy.
My heart pounded as if gone mad.