# Chapter 93
“What method?”
“You can look forward to it.”
But as she continued, Alex’s expression gradually began to contort. Usually, when Fenil was about to do something herself, she would mostly praise herself, saying things like “just trust me.” But now…
“Don’t tell me you’re going to make someone else do the work again?”
“I’m just helping them contribute their talents. What do you mean ‘make someone do the work’?”
Just as he thought. Fenil was planning to dump the task on someone else, just like she had done to him. It wasn’t surprising anymore. After all, with her abilities, giving orders to others was the most appropriate approach. But even so, her attitude of treating it as a given was infuriating no matter how many times he saw it.
Perhaps it was because he was Fenil’s primary victim. Alex narrowed his eyes and said sharply:
“That’s exactly what I mean by making someone do the work.”
However, knowing her personality all too well, he couldn’t openly criticize her. But even the smallest grumble was loud enough for her ears to catch. Yet instead of confronting him, she chose to ignore Alex’s comment.
“Whatever. Just keep training them for now. I’ll start when everything’s ready.”
“Fine.”
Alex wasn’t one to miss Fenil’s implied message to shut up and do as told. With her looking like she might hurl insults at him if he said another word, Alex had no choice but to keep his mouth shut.
* * *
The blue moonlight shone through the glass window into the room. As the light made its way even into the blanket, I slightly peeked my head out. Escaping from the stuffy blanket, fresh air filled my lungs.
I perked up my ears, focusing on sounds outside the door. Apart from subtle noises, there was nothing particularly noticeable. He must be in another room. It seemed he wouldn’t be coming in for a while.
Feeling that I could relax, I completely slipped out from under the blanket, leaned against the headboard, and hugged my knees. Then, wrapping my arms around my legs, I slowly rested my forehead on my knees. Darkness filled my vision as my mind began to spin dizzily.
Perhaps because I had been in a werewolf state, my memories weren’t intact. The parts that did surface felt numb, as if I were watching someone else’s experiences rather than my own. The most vivid memory, though, was when Boss took me in.
Compared to before, when I had almost completely lost my memories, this much was a blessing. If I hadn’t remembered anything this time too, an awkward situation would have unfolded. I would have just been barking like a dog.
“How awful…”
I didn’t want to show such an indecent appearance. Probably “I” felt the same way. Even when I had died once, until the end, “I” had been there for him. It’s myself, but I wonder if there’s such a thing as this level of devotion.
But I understand why I was so devoted. He was the only light. How could I not be drawn to that warmth?
The Boss in my memories had a slightly different texture than now, but he would often treat me warmly like he does now. I gradually became addicted to him. To the point where I wanted to give him my body and soul completely.
Had I not experienced it, I might not understand, but once I had a taste, it was impossible to break away from Boss.
That remains true even now. I knew I should hate him. I knew I shouldn’t give him my heart, but it doesn’t go as planned. Before I realize it, I’m drawn to Boss. Despite having countless memories of being hurt, I find myself hoping that this time might be different.
It’s a useless thought. A foolish and dull expectation.
“I shouldn’t love him, right?”
Yet I still do it. I ended up throwing this meaningless question at myself. Despite knowing the answer better than anyone.
As soon as I opened my mouth, my head began to hurt. I clutched my head with my hand, feeling the throbbing pain. Is this the response from “me” who had been hurt countless times?
“I know, I shouldn’t love him.”
I managed to spit out the words, frowning. How could I not know? The memory of not wanting to love you is still clear. After all, didn’t I say that because I didn’t want to get hurt anymore?
“But—”
Yet despite those memories, the feeling of being drawn to him didn’t fade. Among the scattered memories, the most vivid was of me as a child. Memories I wish I could erase—of begging and rummaging through garbage to survive.
Back then, I thought life itself was just painful. Sleeping on cold streets with only a sheet of newspaper beneath me, searching for ways to survive until my hands and feet were covered in scars—I thought each day was hell.
But what was most painful and sad wasn’t because of that. The reason I suffered was because no one existed by my side. I was alone, without anyone to hold my hand or speak to me.
I told myself it didn’t matter, but how could it be okay?
It’s miserable to admit, but I was never okay in that facility. My gaze would naturally follow those walking hand in hand. I couldn’t look away from those who seemed to be smiling and talking happily.
Without even realizing it, I was envying them. That’s why I had no choice but to accept Boss.
“It’s the first time, you know. Someone treating me this kindly.”
He was the only one who could take away my loneliness. Through him, I, who had always envied others, could belong among them. What I had vaguely envied could become reality. How could I casually brush that aside?
The memory of being alone in the facility was so vivid that I couldn’t possibly miss this opportunity. I don’t know if this feeling is love. There’s a bitter emotion deep in my heart that seems too harsh to be love.
But it was clear that only he, and no one else, could fill my loneliness. Boss was that special to me.
“You know we can’t break the connection. Then maybe…”
I was thinking maybe I could trust him again. Just then, as if responding to those words, my nails suddenly began to transform. The elongated nails gleamed sharply like blades, reflecting the moonlight. And that hand gradually approached me.
The hand was pressing against me as if it would pierce my throat at any moment. It wasn’t my will. This was “my” will. The will to no longer love him. “I” who had been devoted but now gave up on love.
If I don’t take back my words, this hand will pierce my throat. It was a declaration that death would be better than loving Boss again. I was a defense mechanism for “me,” who was falling apart, as I had told him.
The current me was maintaining myself by suppressing all the emotions I received from Boss—sorrow, resentment, pain, love—all of them.
That’s why the desire to trust him was stronger than the memory of being hurt by him. But it wasn’t enough to ignore “me” who was rejecting so adamantly.
I existed for “me.” So I had no choice but to stop this action that seemed like a wail.
As if the emotion had been transferred, my eyes grew hot. After moving my lips a few times, I finally spoke.
“…Alright. I won’t love him. Happy now?”
Satisfied with my answer, the hand finally fell from my throat. But contrary to that, tears began to flow from my eyes. Drip, drip—as teardrops fell onto the blanket, I raised my hand to carefully wipe them away. The warm and moist moisture felt like “my” true heart.
“You actually know, don’t you?”
My throat naturally choked up. My heart seemed to be shouting, pounding hard. The flowing tears wouldn’t stop.
“What I want. What you want.”
That’s why I was crying like this. Because “I” also wanted to trust him. Because “I” wanted to love him once more. But the wounds were too deep, and I became afraid. Instead of imagining a happy future, I started picturing a bleak one.
My true heart wants to be happy with Boss, but for the current “me,” the time of crumbling came faster than the time of being happy with Boss.
That’s why I’m hiding these feelings. Because “I” no longer had the strength to endure.
* * *
Even after Fenil said she had a method, Kane still couldn’t grasp it. Despite staying up all night trying, no results appeared. As the days passed, he became increasingly dejected.
“…I’m sorry. It’s because I’m inadequate.”
Kane’s anxiety manifested in his actions. The bandage wrapped around his hand was soaked with bright red blood. Alex’s expression was filled with sympathy as he unwrapped the tattered bandage that looked like it would fall off at any moment.
In cases like this, since the issue was with the person himself, using superpowers to heal would be meaningless. Even if healed, he would just harm himself again, bringing them back to square one. So most of the time, like now, they would apply medicine and rewrap the bandage.
Fresh white bandages once again wrapped around his hand. Alex deliberately hid his emotions and smiled casually.
“No, it’s not that. Everything until now has just been too fast.”
Kane seemed somewhat reassured by Alex’s kind words, but only momentarily. His lips trembled as he bit the tender flesh inside his mouth. He knew that scratching his hands and biting the inside of his mouth like this would harm Kay.
After all, this body wasn’t his. If they each returned to their own bodies in this state, Kay would suffer.
But even knowing this, he couldn’t stop. The more he blamed himself, the more his body moved on its own without him realizing it. Not being able to use his ability properly and only causing harm to Kay—how pathetic was he?
“Why… why can’t I use the ability…”
“Don’t rush. If you take it slow, it’ll be fine.”
As Kane spoke anxiously, Alex gently stroked his head. Even knowing he wasn’t Kay, Alex wanted to comfort him like this.
