Chapter 19
He frowned, and I was waiting for him to go in and check on Yayoi when I heard him quickly turn the conversation to me: "You're so observant at work. I didn't even notice when I arrived so early."
I couldn't figure out what he meant, so I cautiously replied, "If you're worried about him, go in and check on him. I have to go now."
He stopped me, his eyes deep, but his smile bright: "Let's talk some more. Ever since we met last time, I've really felt like we've known each other forever! Or we could work together somewhere. Where are you going soon? I'll go with you!"
As he spoke, he reached out to grab my wrist.
I have no problem with overly outgoing people, and I'm not good at dealing with them, so it's easy for me to build relationships with them. But there's always something about him that I can't quite put my finger on. He doesn't genuinely want to be with me, and I can't figure out his intentions. His eyes are sincere, and his mouth is always full of sweet talk, but I still have to back away.
I dodged him, but then suddenly realized something and quickly tried to salvage the situation: "Go ahead and do your work. I'm just a free person. It wouldn't be good if I just followed the child around and interfered with your work."
My lips trembled, and I blurted out without thinking, "I was just concerned about you."
I have never deliberately done one thing, which is to find out exactly where I am.
I have a vague feeling that my life is being monitored, that my consciousness is being influenced, and that I am powerless to do anything about it. In fact, I can do nothing but feel this vague sense of it.
I cannot resist my own memories, nor can I find the truth within them. I am trapped in an unsolvable dead end, where everything points to only one path: I consider this place my home and try my best to live on.
I need to get used to the strange creatures here, to their touch. To get used to them lying on my bedside at night, to them being around me, to them leaving marks on my life, like that cat paw print.
I want to accept everyone who comes near me, accept their kindness, accept their closeness, accept their endless caresses and dependence, accept that they let my brain take in them without my consent and leave their memories within it.
I want to hear the voice of this world, to chew and swallow all the words, whether true or false. I want to see everything that happens as normal, because I have no idea what "abnormal" looks like.
Sometimes I feel like all of this has happened many times before. Other times I feel the bewilderment of a newborn baby.
I know that with my personality, at least based on the personality I remember I might grow up to be, it's impossible for so many people to get close to me.
A professional and indifferent attitude, like that of a counselor, is the normal approach.
I have seen the latest document. My name and Tachibana Miki's name are not among the applicants. She also selected "agree" and did not ask me any questions.
This is what a normal stranger is like. No questions asked, no concern shown, just living life at their own pace. I still remember the subtle touch she gave me, but now I feel it was envy of self-expression.
Her actions were so reasonable, so why did I feel unhappy at the time?
All that intimacy, all those smiles—everything I could see—kept a secret hidden behind it.
But I can't stubbornly believe this. Because before I could figure out how to resist this long, drawn-out memory, my body was already rebelling. It didn't welcome it, didn't welcome the endless tears, the scolding, the neglect, the pain.
However, all of these have one explanation: PTSD.
Just say I have post-traumatic stress disorder. There's nothing to question about my memory.
Actually, I also gave up resisting in a hazy state, because everything I tried to do was futile. Even if I really wanted to escape the world of interacting with people, I would still flash a welcoming, sweet smile in the next moment of distraction.
My fingertips twitched slightly.
I clenched my teeth, unaware that my brow was furrowed. Almost unconsciously, I thought I just wanted to know the truth about my existence in a world that was likely a lie.
I don't need to know the cause, process, or outcome of all of this.
I just want to know the purpose. What I have to give up for this purpose, I don't care about anything else.
Why must I be trapped in this illusion, living in constant anxiety? Is it truly necessary to achieve this goal through my constant anxiety?
He disgusted me. He kept getting close to me.
Will he be the one who can make me realize the truth?
I felt my mind go blank, but my thoughts quickly came together again. I was just trying to observe this college student, and I remember trying to figure out why he insisted on getting close to me.
If it's about cultivation, for example, my unique abilities, then firstly, I possess special powers. As soon as I learned I could plant seeds, I immediately searched for relevant information, but none of it provided any documentary evidence of its existence. They seemed to belong solely to me, appearing out of thin air in this world, and I could use them whenever I wanted.
So, is it a yearning for it? Like in those novels, the characters possess something everyone envies. It could be jewelry, power, or their own talent. Someone wants to take it away, and so they also want to take away something I don't even want.
Secondly, I am an outsider. This point is becoming clearer in my memory. For almost a month before, I just thought I could get by as long as I could. But recently, more and more people have been reminding me of this.
Even if I don't think about it. Even if I don't want to hear it. Even if I overturn the table, tear up books, walk away, and shout at people.
I tried to shut them up, then quietly turned to adjusting my collar before making any further moves.
Well, although it's still under suspicion...
Why can't I really be a person of this world?
Perhaps I really am a part of this world. I need to follow my own heart, instead of just listening to what others say.
I couldn't help but laugh again. The student, unaware of what I was laughing at, stood there awkwardly. Suddenly, his gaze sharpened, then he looked up and down in alarm, this time fixing on the corners of my eyes and lips.
There's nothing to see here, is there? Can these two places be more attractive than that big bandage on my neck? I nonchalantly reached out and rubbed my eyes, which were stinging from laughing, but unexpectedly, I smeared tears on my eyelashes. The world in front of me was a mix of red and white, and I couldn't see clearly.
I think I'll have to get Ward to tell me the truth next time we meet.
I love this world so sincerely, so genuinely.
I don't want to live in confusion and suspicion anymore, even if it means driving away everyone close to me, all my friends.
I want an answer.
*
"Doctor, are you sure this is the result?" A muffled male voice came from near and far. "Are you sure we don't need any other tests?"
"We can't determine the cause of the patient's illness," the doctor said helplessly. "I know you're worried as a friend, but he really just needs to rest, avoid thinking too much, and his brain waves are a bit abnormal..."
I couldn't hear the rest.
The dream gripped my mind, compelling me to immerse myself in it until it ended.
My legs started running uncontrollably, and I walked straight into the collapsed house.
The impact generated a fierce fire that ignited the flowing air outside.
I'm certain that even if I went inside, I would still be able to breathe; besides, I'd only need to get a little closer to the door to find out.
A gentle breeze blew through my nostrils. I looked around; nothing had collapsed, but my belongings were difficult to move. In the heat, I couldn't hear anyone calling for help. I checked the entire first floor and then hurried up to the second floor.
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