Mr. Tasha finished his work early that day, returned home quickly, trained, took a shower, and then ate.
He did not stay long. As soon as he finished his meal, he took the keys to his luxurious classic car, an Aston Martin DB5, and left.
He had no destination, He simply wanted to go out.
As he drove, the car naturally drew attention.
Mr. Tasha noticed it. Joy, envy, admiration, greed, Human emotions were easy to read for someone skilled at observing them, and Mr. Tasha was exactly that.
One street led to another until he reached the road overlooking the sea. Mr. Tasha looked ahead and decided to stop, He took off his shoes and stepped barefoot onto the sand.
Fine grains clung to his feet. Step by step, breath by breath, he approached the sea.
Gentle waves brushed against his feet, one after another, with absolute indifference.
The waves did not care about him or who he was.
The world was like that, indifferent to people, Yet people cared deeply about people.
Is he rich? Does he work? Which family does he belong to?
Mr. Tasha thought about such questions. His face remained indifferent, though a faint, sarcastic smile appeared.
'Compared to that, the world was more honest.'
The thought illuminated his mind. Mr. Tasha never truly cared about admiration or applause.
What he wanted, he wanted for himself, not to please or attract the attention of others.
He looked toward the distant horizon.
The sea filled his vision, merging with the sky as the sun slowly sank into the water, painting the sky in shades of orange mixed with crimson.
Most people would feel awe, take photos, smile happily, without truly understanding why they felt compelled to do so.
Yet whenever Mr. Tasha looked at such a beautiful scene, he felt... nothing.
The sun had set, and the waves continued to strike his feet with dull persistence.
"Ah… haah." Mr. Tasha took a deep breath, then turned back toward his car.
…
About half an hour later, Mr. Tasha arrived home.
He opened the garage remotely and parked his car beside its sisters.
Mr. Tasha's house was beautiful and elegant, with a simple yet luxurious classical design... But it was empty.
He had never hired servants, That was one of the results of his youth, and now, at thirty-seven, its traces remained.
A man who relied entirely on himself, That was Mr. Tasha.
At times, he wondered whether this complete self-reliance was the reason behind his sense of emptiness.
"I don't think so… but then why? Why this difference between the present and the past?" Mr. Tasha spoke aloud.
He remembered his emotions, his ambitions, his fierce desire to surpass his own limits. Yet now, he was empty.
He thought deeply, then after a moment said in a voice barely audible:
"Humans, like life itself, are honest in their nature with themselves. Sometimes rising, sometimes falling."
Even after saying this, he still seemed lost in thought. He went to his room, changed his clothes, and picked up a small book to read a few pages. It was part of his routine before sleep.
Mr. Tasha went to bed early.
He was accustomed to sleeping at 8:30 p.m.
9:00 p.m.
12:30 a.m.
1:23 a.m.
2:12 a.m.
A sharp gasp.
Mr. Tasha woke up drenched in sweat and turned on the soft light beside his bed.
'Was that really a dream?'
He thought about what he had seen earlier.
He had not tried to reflect on it that day, instead pushing it to the back of his mind.
'Then why does it feel contradictory, as if it were both a dream and reality at the same time?'
He found no answer.
He did not understand why seeing that girl made him feel something different.
As if he were alive.
As if his passion had returned.
Was it a dream? Was it reality? If it was reality, then why had he forgotten it?
It was truly strange.
Why would he feel emotion because of a girl?
Mr. Tasha thought as he stared at the ceiling.
'In my youth, I truly relied on myself. I rejected every annoying obstacle that stood in the way of my desires, and I enjoyed every moment of my journey with myself. My life was governed by logic that led to desired results and benefits.'
Lost in his thoughts, Mr. Tasha felt something different from the emptiness he had known before.
He was lost.
Love? It was an illusion, He did not understand it.
'I never experienced it. I never truly felt it.'
Mr. Tasha's past relationships were devoid of genuine emotion, which led him to question love itself.
He never realized how much he had neglected his emotions, He had always been a logical person.
"In the end, the most important thing is me."
In Mr. Tasha's view, neither love nor the absence of it could pull him out of his emptiness.
He had always believed that he was the answer to every question, the driving force behind himself. How could he allow himself to fall into the trap of emotion?
He never thought about creating balance.
More accurately, he did not understand it, and therefore did not desire it.
Mr. Tasha returned to sleep.
…