What is life? Why are people born? Is there a reason for being born? Does fate truly exist? They were philosophical contemplations. But the answers to them, as always, surfaced quickly.
What is life? It's suffering. Why are people born? To suffer. What is the reason for being born? Likewise, to suffer. Fate is nothingness. No different from teaching someone how to swim just before they sink into the deep sea and suffocate.
*Scrape.*
I have no attachment to life. Since birth, I was an orphan, and my life had nothing but suffering—how could there be attachment? Even if I were to die now, it doesn't seem like a single tear would be shed. Come to think of it, when was the last time I cried? I can't even remember anymore. Whatever, it probably isn't that important anyway.
*Plunge.*
She stared out the window. The sky, unusually hazy today, blocked out both starlight and moonlight, invoking only darkness. Eyes adapted to the dark had enough vision to make out surrounding objects, but couldn't distinguish the color of the fluid flowing from her wrist. Hot and sticky. That's all. She didn't even want to distinguish it.
*...Crunch.*
A stinging pain was felt. Did the knife go in a little deeper? It seemed like the blade hit bone. Maybe it touched a nerve. Whatever. Misaki exhaled a long breath into the air and pulled out the knife stabbed into her wrist. A thick, dark red liquid poured down the blade as if sliding. Simultaneously, blood gushed out from the torn and gouged wound.
But the bleeding didn't last long. It's always like this. The uselessly durable body was hard to wound, yet recovered bizarrely quickly. The wound remained, but the bleeding had already stopped. It truly was an unreasonable body.
*Hoo*, Misaki exhaled into the air. Then lowered her gaze. Her blood-soaked hands, clothes, and unraveled bandages entered her vision.
...Did I bring new bandages? The sudden thought made her search inside her clothes, but she couldn't find any bandages. Seems she forgot. Misaki let out a deep sigh and gripped the knife with her other hand. Grabbing the knife with her wounded arm sent a sharp pain that heated her brain. Her face contorted, but she didn't stop. As before, she began slowly cutting her right arm with the knife held in her left hand.
She doesn't derive pleasure from this act. But there's no disgust either. It's just a tedious task to gain a moment's relief and comfort. Nothing more meaningful than that.
Maybe she could die from bleeding like this, but she wasn't particularly interested. Because there's no reason to fear death. If death could free her from suffering, why fear it? Misaki thought so and mechanically brandished the knife.
A few minutes passed like that, and the first wound formed. Blood beaded on the split skin, and she poked the knife into the gap. With a horrible sound, the tip of the knife dug into the flesh inside. Pain followed the act. But Misaki's expression didn't change.
The more the knife moved, the more blood seeped out. It gradually formed a puddle on the floor, and only around the time her head grew foggy did Misaki stop cutting. With a *tschk, krrk* sound, blood and skin fragments slid off the blade. Only then did Misaki begin tending to her ruined upper body.
She wrapped the bandages she had taken off both wrists, took off her red-stained top, and roughly hung it to dry. Since it was originally a black hoodie, it would return to a state where it wouldn't show stains after a while. Misaki thought so and sat leaning against the wall.
Then, a voice came from outside the window.
"You done?"
"...!"
Misaki's eyes widened. She made a startled expression and turned her head toward the window. Beyond the hazy sky, acrid smoke was rising.
"...Executive?"
"The smell of blood is vibrating. It's not like you killed someone."
"...How did you get here?" Q0NGL1BUQXN0SWVkOHpKbW5hcVdZUmlLdE9GODk3VmlHNzdjZlhwU2V2d1R3SE9oSXBSckhOYVJ2UUtibFhWMQ
The place where Misaki was currently sitting was a building somewhat distant from the squad's residence. It was a place chosen to avoid Saori's eyes; she never dreamed she'd get caught by an executive. No, more than that, how he even found her was a mystery.
But the answer was very simple.
"Because there was a smell of blood. Your smell."
"...That's such nonsense..."
"Don't know. Maybe as compensation for my ruined tongue, my hearing or sense of smell got better. Things I tried to get rid of—don't know why they made them more sensitive—but anyway, thanks to that, I found you."
It wasn't a lie. After parting with Saori, while walking the ruined streets for a stroll, the unique peppermint scent of Misaki and the thick smell of blood wafted over simultaneously, so he immediately headed here. Misaki didn't seem to believe such an explanation, but she let out a deep sigh, neatly gathered her knees, and buried her face in them.
"...So? Going to lecture me? Saying self-harm is bad, so stop?"
"You're self-aware. Then that's enough."
A *sssssss* sound was heard. The sound of putting out a cigarette. Kenji roughly stamped out the butt, then entered the room where Misaki was sitting. Since she had taken off her top, Misaki was only wearing a sleeveless shirt, but Kenji felt no sexual desire. Instead, he let out a small sigh and plopped down beside her.
"...What are you doing?"
"Never mind that, give me your wrist."
"No, what are you doing rightㅡ"
"Too much talk."
Kenji forcibly pulled her arm and checked the blood-stained bandage. It wasn't in good condition. Perhaps because it was an old item, filth was stuck here and there, and it was full of black dust, having lost its original function as a bandage.
If she keeps wearing something like that, the wound will only worsen. Kenji sighed again and took out a sterilized bandage from his pocket. Misaki, sensing his intention, stopped resisting, pouted her lips, and turned her head away.
"...Where on earth do you get such medical supplies from? They keep coming out of your pocket."
"As you can see, I have a body prone to injuries. If I don't carry things like this around, who knows when I might die."
Kenji spat that out and unwrapped the bandage around Misaki's wrist. Then her ruined wrist was revealed. To a degree impossible to describe positively, her wound was in a severe state. Thankfully, the bleeding had stopped, but the sight of the gouged flesh and scabs stuck all over made one's face automatically contort.
But Kenji didn't criticize her for it. Instead, he silently took out disinfectant and poured it on the affected area. Bubbles rose during the sterilization process, and from the stinging pain, Misaki's face slightly contorted. Kenji saw that face and chuckled.
"Does it hurt?"
"...Making fun of me?"
"You know to feel embarrassed."
"...Shut up."
Instead of answering, Kenji wrapped bandages around both her wrists. Since there was no need for hemostasis, he didn't tie them too tight, but with enough pressure to be felt.
Misaki looked down at the clean bandages for a moment, then let out a sigh, leaned her head on her neatly gathered knees, and sat. Then she muttered.
"...Thanks."
At those words, Kenji smiled slightly and nodded. And crossing his legs, he stared out the window. The hazy sky was gloomy enough to evoke negative feelings, yet simultaneously held a mysterious atmosphere. Watching the slowly moving clouds, he whispered in a flat voice.
It was a small voice, but sufficient for Misaki to hear.
"Having a hard time lately?"
"...? What are you suddenly talking about?"
"Just. Wondering."
Misaki rolled her eyes slightly and looked at Kenji. A few minutes later, she understood the meaning in his words. She sneered slightly and answered in a low voice.
"I don't really know what the feeling of 'having a hard time' is. Been like that since I was born. Doesn't feel particularly special now."
"...."
"You want to ask why I self-harm? Simple. Because I don't want to live in this meaningless, hollow world. Life has no purpose."
Just as Misaki did, Kenji also stared at Misaki. Their two gazes collided in mid-air.
The first to raise the white flag was Kenji. With an expressionless face, he stared at the ceiling and opened his mouth.
"When I was little, my parents passed away right before my eyes."
"...Suddenly, what..."
"I thought I'd be left with relatives, but they quickly took the insurance money and abandoned me. Thanks to that, I was sent to an orphanage. But all I had was a wretched body, and I wasn't sociable enough to make friends."
Misaki didn't add anything more. Instead, she blinked and listened to Kenji's words.
"As my head grew bigger and I got older, I gradually... became worn down, to put it crudely. Why am I the only one living such a life? Why don't I have a family? What did I do wrong to be so unhappy? I think I spent whole days with only such thoughts."
"..."
"There's a huge difference between never having had something from the start and having lost something you once had. I was like that. Not trying to have a misery competition, but at the time, I thought I was the most unhappy person in the world. At some point, self-harm blended into daily life, and occasionally the word suicide circled in my head. I tried it too. Failed, though."
"...Why?"
"The building I jumped from was too low. Thanks to that, only my legs got shattered and that was it."
Thinking about it now, it was idiotic. Kenji added that and continued.
"Back then, after jumping and waking up in the hospital. There was no one around me. Just the psychiatrist and nurses who visited periodically, and the visitors of other patients. You know what I thought then?"
Misaki shook her head. Kenji slightly narrowed the distance between them and spoke.
"Ah, there's not even anyone who would be sad if I died. Nothing would change if just one person, me, disappeared."
"..."
"On the other hand, what about you?"
"H, huh? Me?"
Misaki stammered from suddenly being put on the spot. Kenji held a faint smile and tapped her forehead with his fingertip.
"If you died, wouldn't there be anyone sad? I don't think so."
"..."
Misaki opened her mouth as if to retort, but soon couldn't utter any sound and closed her mouth.
Because she recalled them despite not wanting to. The expression of Saori, who always saved her whenever she attempted suicide. The expression mixed with worry and anxiety looking at her. The things she knew yet willfully ignored. Thinking of them, Misaki moved her lips, then forced out a voice.
A negative expression, close to self-hypnosis.
"...No one. Someone like me, even if I disappeared, who would be sad."
"Why wouldn't there be. I'm right in front of you."
"...What?"
A foolish voice flowed from Misaki's mouth. Kenji chuckled and grabbed Misaki's hand to tap his own forehead.
"Here. There's one."
"..."
Misaki stared at Kenji with a blank expression for a moment, then contorted her brow and shook off his hand.
"...Don't joke. We've only known each other for two days."
"Is the period important? What matters is the heart. This teacher cares for all his students. You damn, unfilial disciple."
Kenji spat that out with a laughing voice. Misaki mumbled this and that, then let out a deep sigh and hung her head. Silence circled around the two. But it wasn't an unpleasant silence. Kenji was looking at Misaki with a beaming smile, and Misaki, burdened by that gaze, blushed and deliberately turned her head away.
A few minutes later, Kenji opened his mouth.
"Saori's birthday is in a few weeks, right? Want to go buy a present together?"
"...A present? Really necessary?"
"We need to set a precedent to prepare yours too. Don't like it?"
"...Don't like. Go alone."
"Yeah, I don't like it either. I'll drag you along regardless."
"...Haa."
Misaki let out a sigh, not knowing which number it was. Regardless, Kenji chuckled and roughly tousled Misaki's hair. Misaki let out a sigh of astonishment, but Kenji's mouth opened faster.
"Since we have to go secretly, don't tell anyone around. I'll let you know the date."
"...If Madam finds out, it won't end well."
"I'll handle that bitch myself, so you just prepare. Don't worry needlessly."
Only then did Misaki give up. She gazed intently at Kenji, then nodded slightly.
"...Fine. I'll prepare."
"Yeah. By the way, shall we go soon? It's almost dawn."
"The blood smell hasn't left my clothes yet. Need to stay a bit more."
"Ah... Then fine. Want to play word chain or something?"
"...That's silly. What word chain all of a sudden."
Thus.
"Bed."
"Anti-tank mine."
"Brain short-circuit."
"...What's that?"
"There's such a thing."
"What are you talking about? I win."
"Torpedo."
"What are you trying to do?"
Dawn passed.