Chapter 58: Self-Realization, and Two Years Later
"..."
'Am I... really me?'
'Memory is a funny thing. It's delicate. Fickle.'
'Many people believe that memory is the sum of a person's life. If those memories glitch—if a new consciousness is born in an old body—then the original person is effectively dead.'
'But there are other arguments.'
'Memories change every second. It's the Ship of Theseus. If you replace a plank every now and then, eventually, once the final original plank is gone, is it still the same ship?'
'Some people think that the person society recognizes is the "real" person...'
'Everyone has a different answer.'
'And now... I have mine.'
As Haruka finished watching his third set of memories—watching himself die on a hospital bed—he came to a realization.
'Memories are important. They are the building blocks of a person. But they aren't the only thing.'
'They're like a layer of dust settling on a pane of glass. The more memories you have, the thicker the dust gets, until the glass is completely obscured. Only by wiping away that dust can you see your true reflection. Your true heart.'
'The key is... who do I think I am?'
'Take me, for example. Ever since I awakened, those memories have been influencing me. Making me do things I never would have done otherwise.'
'Ask yourself, Haruka. Was that what you really wanted?'
'What kind of person are you, really?'
'Was it the obsession from the awakening? Did you really want to be some elite ruler, standing above everyone else?'
'No.'
'That's not it.'
'That was just the influence of the past life. Venting the frustrations and dissatisfaction of a previous existence onto this one. That wasn't the real me.'
'I wasn't born wanting to trample others underfoot. I didn't want to be a king.'
'I remember... when I was little, my parents asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. My answer was... a chef. I wanted to make hamburgers. I wanted to cook giant, meaty dishes. I wanted to be able to eat meat every single day...'
'Because back then, we rarely had meat on the table. And when we did, Mom and Dad would say they didn't like it, just so they could put it in my bowl. But I knew. I knew Dad loved BBQ pork ribs. I knew Mom loved chicken tenders...'
'Holidays were the happiest times. Going to a restaurant was a rare luxury. So, in my eyes, chefs were amazing. I wanted to be just like them...'
'That dream was simple. Honest. Maybe even a little stupid in the eyes of an adult. But it was the truest, most serious thought I had back then.'
'When did that answer change?'
'Was it when the adults told me I had no ambition?'
'Was it when the teachers preached about becoming astronauts or scientists—those "noble" professions?'
'Or was it... when I saw those high-class, wealthy careers?'
'Where one dinner costs a month of someone else's salary... Where one trip goes to places others can never reach... Where one night of fun happens in high-end clubs others will never step foot in...'
'What caused it?'
'Desire? Inferiority? Wanting too much? Repression?'
'I don't know. Maybe it was all of them.'
'I just wanted to live a good life. It didn't have to be extravagant. Just a life without illness or disaster. A little wealth, a little peace. That would have been enough. So why did it change?'
'Why did it turn into this?'
'If I could, I wouldn't want to step on anyone.'
'But I failed.'
'Ambition is like a fire. The more it burns, the hungrier it gets.'
'The more I got, the more I saw, and the more I wanted.'
'But it felt like I never truly had much of anything.'
'In the end, I went mad. I became obsessed with being an "elite." After reincarnating, that obsession only grew heavier.'
'Only now do I understand.'
'My obsession was too strong. I mistook the means for the end. I was too extreme.'
'There is nothing wrong with money, power, or status. It's human nature to pursue them; it's a natural desire. But you shouldn't go crazy over it. You shouldn't overdo it. And you certainly shouldn't make it your only reason for existing...'
'Otherwise, the result is just like that fourth memory—dying a violent death on the street.'
'And then...'
'There is my love for Shoko. My friendship with Yukino and the others...'
'Those things... maybe in the beginning, they were fake too. Actions taken under the influence of those memories.'
'But after all these years, not every decision was dictated by the past.'
'I have long since accepted Shoko and the others.'
'I love Shoko. That is absolutely not a fake emotion created by memories.'
'I love my life now. I love the cute, awkward Sora. I love my parents, who care about me even when they're away. I love the lonely, naive, but principled Yukino Yukinoshita. I love my warm and generous friend, Hayato Hayama. I love the timid Bocchi, with her endless internal dramas. I love the self-loathing but kind-hearted Kazusa Touma. I love the incredibly emotionally intelligent and gentle Fumino Furuhashi...'
'None of this is fake.'
'I love you all...'
In the pure white space of his memory, tears streamed down Haruka's face.
***
[Desire ignites, the shadow within awakens.]
[Wipe the mirror clean, and face yourself.]
[Congratulations. Amidst the past and present,you have faced the shadow within and uncovered your true self.]
[Will significantly increased. Talent: [Serene Mirror, Still Water] has been born.]
[Talent: [Past and Present Lives] has vanished.]
In reality, Haruka wore a mask of indifference. He stared coldly at the simulation interface, his eyes dark and unreadable.
'The shadow within?'
'The shadow... within?!'
***
In the hospital ward.
Two years had passed since Haruka fell into his coma.
For these two years, Shoko had shouldered the responsibility of caring for Haruka, never relaxing for a single moment.
Early morning.
She woke up early to wash up, then began preparing breakfast using the ingredients she had prepped the night before.
She packed everything up and headed to the Shinomiya Group's private employee hospital.
"Good morning, Shoko-chan."
An older nurse passing by greeted her. As she spoke, she made sure her lip movements were distinct and her speaking speed was slow.
Shoko responded politely, a gentle smile on her face. She held the lunch box tight as she walked toward the ward. She had to get there early; the muscle relaxation massage was more effective in the morning.
Watching Shoko walk away, a newly hired nurse tugged on the older nurse's sleeve.
"Is that her? The 'Venus' who's been looking after that Fallen Star for two whole years?"
As she spoke, the young nurse's eyes were filled with admiration and excitement.
Over the past two years, the heat surrounding Haruka's incident had gradually cooled.
Many people had forgotten the rising star who had appeared out of nowhere. The media even referred to him as the "Fallen Star" or "Meteor"—something that burned bright and vanished.
Even many of their friends and classmates had lost touch.
But not here.
Every doctor and nurse here saw Shoko every single day.
They watched as Shoko took care of her lover, day in and day out, for two years straight.
She was gentle, serious, beautiful, and kind... She was very popular among the staff.
Shoko had gradually become a special existence in this place.
"That's right. She's going to give her lover his massage now."
"It really is her... Oh no, I forgot to ask for an autograph!" The young nurse looked annoyed with herself.
The older nurse smiled. "Don't worry. You'll have plenty of chances to see her every day. Don't disturb her right now. She's busy."
"Mm-hmm."
"By the way, when you talk to her, remember to speak slowly and enunciate clearly. You know why, right?"
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