Chapter 1

"Mm, I know…."

Eiharu's voice barely whispers. His smartphone currently sticks to his ear as he only uses a bare minimum of strength to keep it in place. The hums he once in a while let out to show he is still listening are heard in the room, aside from murmurs from the other end of the line.

'I'm sorry, Eiharu. But that's all… I did this for you. Because I love you.'

The voice which belongs to his own dear mother sounds a little grim. Eiharu doesn't react for a few seconds, doesn't know what to say in particular, but also because there's nothing he could say in this kind of situation. He understands perfectly why his mother insists on making him leave his bedroom.

"I understand, Mom…." His voice was somewhat hoarse; he forgot when was the last time he adequately hydrated, "I forgive you, so… Stop saying sorry…."

Without giving her a chance to say something else, Eiharu already hung up and threw his phone to the carpeted floor.

-I forgive you, so… Stop saying sorry….-

It's a lie.

He hasn't forgiven her yet, at least not entirely. It's a good thing their relationship gets better as Eiharu gets older, but the old wound he has still hasn't healed. It's not because he doesn't want to forgive, but he can't, not yet. Not even after a decade has passed. Not even when his mother apologized countlessly, he went numb and sick over hearing the same thing. Thus, he ends up repeating the same lies. Therefore, he pretends like every shit he went through no longer troubles him. At the very least, he hopes so.

Eiharu lies there, limbs spread out on his messy bed, unmoving aside from his heaving chest showing he is still breathing. With the blurry sight of the ceiling above his head, he ponders what kind of painting would look good, so he can stare at it without getting bored. His mind wanders to the interior of his bedroom, imagining some changes that obviously will not happen. After all, with how messy he is, having any ornaments will only let them collect dust. Stuffy. The minimum light peeking through the closed curtain adds more to the small, unhealthy space. Just by staying there, Eiharu sweats badly despite the air conditioner working nonstop to cool the room.

He needs to get out.

But the option is just not for him since he doesn't want to do it.

He inhales deeply, trying to compromise and fight back his desire to do nothing, to be the living corpse he has been living as long as he can remember. How he wishes the time would stop right there and let him be as unproductive as possible. If not because his mother forces him to prepare a lunch box for her, he won't move from his current position no matter how uncomfortable it has become. Still, although lunch hour is getting near, he spends a full twenty minutes lying there like a log. Busy thinking about many scenarios he will never be in.

Basically, he is procrastinating.

A loud ding from his smartphone, followed by a voice message from his mother reminding him the time is ticking, adds more to his deep carved anxiety.

"I knoooow…."

He whines even though there's no way his mother can hear it. He shifts his body slightly, feeling the cold air touches his sweaty back. Even getting out of bed is so much work; he really prefers to lie down all day long. His hand fumbles on the nightstand, looking for his glasses, and he doesn't bother with the fingerprint dirtying the lens. Waiting for the numbness to leave his legs, he's so, so tempted to lie down again. If not because another voice message is coming in, he might spend another full hour procrastinating. Well, technically, he is already stretching the time as much as possible, and it gets real close by now.

He finally rose from his seat with much unwillingness, dragged his legs towards the door, and left the bedroom.

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A sizzling pan on the stove followed the sound of the knife against the cutting board. Eiharu's hum can be heard, in rhythm with the gentle song playing through his headphones. His slender fingers swiftly move from one spot to another; cutting, flipping, and folding. The counter lining in front of him has no space visible as any ingredients are spread over. Cute patterned paper boxes sitting not far from there. As he glanced at the small bunny printed on it, he couldn't help but smile a little.

The traces of uncooked-yet ingredients stick to his hands, adding more to his appeal. His long bangs might hide his face, but the eyes focused on the work in hand, shows the glint which usually isn't there. He can whine all day, protesting against the work he needs to do instead of lazing in his bedroom. It seems unlikely, but he likes cooking. It's one of a few hobbies he has and puts more effort to work on than anything else. Though he dislikes cooking because he has to--not because he wants to--, he couldn't deny the feeling of joy as he danced alone in the kitchen. Besides, no one would see even if he flipped on the counter or something.

The hums earlier gradually changed to proper singing. His voice isn't that bad, albeit the hoarseness is more or less taking over. The fast beat of his song doesn't affect his pace. He managed both of them well; singing and cooking, like a professional in their field. Seeing the beautiful golden color on the pan, a smile of contentment spreads on his pale face. After a little bit of taste testing, then everything went perfectly.

It was a minor accident when drops of water slid down from his wet hand to the sizzling pan. The hot oil splashed on his hand, leaving some tiny yet hot bubbles near an old wound on his wrist. He halts for a moment. His mind plays a record of some things in the past in auto, which he prefers not to recall.

One which triggered the existence of this ugly scar.

His alarm snapped him back from his thoughts. He quickly turns off the stove, washes the burn, cooling it down roughly, and puts the food in the boxes.

-I shouldn't think about it anymore-

Time can heal any wound, people said. Perhaps, his damage is too severe; even a decade isn't enough to cure it. For sure, Eiharu tried a lot, too much, to alleviate the pain and forget everything. But he can't. The worse the event, the more he remembers.

Eiharu inhales and pushes the thought to the back of his head. He only has less than an hour left to deliver the package. If he doesn't move soon, he will be caught in the wave of people returning from their lunch break. Not only will he be late to bring his mother her lunch, but he will also need to deal with so many strangers on the road. And the latter is what he tries to avoid as much as he can.

After double-checking everything was in the bag, he put on his mask and hoodie, made sure the door was locked properly, took a moment to inhale deeply--he did it a lot today--, then off towards the busy streets of the city he lives in.

A little bit amiss in his calculation, the street is almost filled by many businessmen alike. Eiharu checks his watch and sees the needle is ticking on time. This many people returning to their offices might be because of the heavy clouds in the sky. Forecast weather gave an early warning about what seemed to be an unexpected-yet-expected downpour. No need to say, Eiharu was prepared before he left the house earlier.

Across the road, the hospital building where his mother works is standing tall and intimidatingly. Eiharu spends a few moments admiring the beauty of its modern structure. The owner of this place must have spent a lot of funds to build such a massive facility. Even though it was not the first time Eiharu visited that place, he always felt amazed every single time. However, his amazement sometimes has a bad connotation.

The hospital's outer look is fantastic, but the interior is also frightening. Eiharu isn't particularly fond of hospitals in general, knowing he had no good memories of one. Still, whenever he stepped inside, it didn't feel like he was in a medical facility at all. If not for the white-robed staff passing him every less than five seconds and the heavy smells of medicines, he would mistake this place for a typical office building.

After signing the guest book, he waits for his mother in the lobby. The open space is filled with new patients and staff walking back and forth. Some looked so happy as they left the building, and some looked griefed as they rushed to the reception table. Many old and young doctors take the patients' company, all equally happy and gloomy.

Eiharu’s mind wanders. He recalls someone who was an essential part of his short high school years. That person once mentioned that someday he wanted to be a doctor. He strived to work hard, with this fully equipped facility as this place as the goal. Eiharu remembers how that person's eyes glinted as he spoke about his dream, deep down praying that someday he could achieve it.

Eiharu can list things he hates in his teenage life, but the memory of that person is the only one he is fond of.

He can't recall the details anymore as the time they spent was relatively short. His one-sided admiration and envy painted the brightness of that person's existence, which often made him squint. Eiharu had his regret for not treasuring that time more. But perhaps, it's better that way. Even by himself, he's still tightly clung to the past. If he and that person are still in contact, it will be harder for him to let go.

Now years have passed since that moment. That person should have graduated from university a few years ago. Knowing he was a brilliant student, Eiharu won't feel surprised if he finished his study earlier than expected. His work was always tidy and perfect. If he managed to get a position in this place, it would be like his destined fate since birth.

By the last line of thought, Eiharu lets out a bitter snort.

Although he rarely goes out and rarely socializes with anyone besides his mother, he still takes track of most individuals he has known throughout his life. With the world practically an open book on the internet, he can quickly look for things with few searches. He tracks his old teachers, classmates, acquaintances, and those who were a part of his life despite their presence were not that insignificant. He looks for names he can remember, easily tracks the other with a little tweak and dig into his memories. Most of them are now at the peak of their life; a promising career, stable economy, happy families….

It was… painful.

Eiharu is lying if he says he doesn't feel envy. No, it hurts him more because all he can think of is this negative feeling that will affect his life. He is, by default, drowning in loneliness more than he dares to admit. Watching others gain something in return for their effort, people deserve the long-awaited reward. Eiharu wishes to taste the same thing, to live heavily without this deadly burden he's unable to say a word to anyone. But he still has no courage to go out of the way and enter society. Let alone leave the house. He doesn't even dare to look for any information online about the two people who affected his life the most.

Yes, although he spends most of his time online watching the people he barely linked to in the past, the individuals he has mainly connected with remain a mystery. Whether they are alive or not, he doesn't know. He doesn't want to know. He is… afraid to learn more.

Eiharu lowers his gaze. The opposite souls helped him shape the current him, the most significant existence throughout his younger days. He remembers them not by face anymore, just their names and the impact they left;

His old, childish love.

And the one who put him in torture.

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