The first thing I broke was a chair.
---
It wasn't dramatic.
No explosion.
No shockwave.
Just a quiet, deeply embarrassing crack as the metal legs folded inward like wet cardboard.
---
"…Did you just destroy public property?" Mira asked.
"…It was already weak," I replied defensively.
"…Rei— Remnant," she corrected herself,
"that chair was rated for three hundred kilograms."
---
I stared at the collapsed remains.
Then at my hands.
"…I don't even weigh anything."
---
Silence.
Then Mira sighed.
"…You weigh everything else."
---
That was the problem.
---
Since the strategists learned how to weaponize near-erasure, my existence weight hadn't gone down.
It stabilized.
Which was worse.
---
> [Status Update:]
— Bearer Load: 84% (Stable)
— Environmental Interaction: Increasingly Physical
---
Translation?
I could no longer pretend I was intangible when it was inconvenient.
---
The rooftop groaned beneath me as I stood.
Concrete hairline cracks spread outward from my feet.
Not collapsing.
Complaining.
---
"…Okay," I muttered.
"That's new."
---
I lifted one foot slowly.
The cracks stopped spreading.
"…So," Mira said carefully,
"you've become… selectively solid."
---
"…That sounds fake," I replied.
"…It is not."
---
I took a step.
The rooftop dipped half a centimeter.
---
I froze.
"…Mira."
"Yes?"
"…If I walk normally—"
"You will eventually fall through the building."
---
We stared at each other.
---
"…So what do I do?" I asked.
Mira paused.
Then—
"…Float?"
---
I glared.
"…I am floating."
"Yes," she replied,
"but aggressively."
---
I tried again.
Less intention.
Less force.
More… apology.
---
The rooftop sighed—but held.
---
"…Wow," I muttered.
"I have to walk politely now."
---
> [System Observation:]
— Behavioral Adjustment Detected
— Subject Learning to Distribute Existence Weight
---
Mira laughed.
Actually laughed.
"…You realize," she said,
"you're the only supernatural entity I know who has to mind his manners with gravity."
---
"…I hate this," I replied.
---
The city at night looked the same.
But interacting with it felt like wearing shoes two sizes too heavy.
---
I descended to street level.
Carefully.
Very carefully.
---
A pedestrian bumped into me.
Lightly.
---
We both froze.
---
"…Uh," the man said, confused.
"Sorry, man."
---
He stepped back.
Then frowned.
"…That's weird."
---
"…What?" I asked.
"…It felt like bumping into… responsibility."
---
He blinked.
Shook his head.
"…Never mind. I should sleep."
---
He walked away.
Mira was silent.
---
"…People can feel you now," she said.
"…Great," I muttered.
"Just what I wanted."
---
I took another step.
A nearby trash can tipped over.
---
"…Oops."
---
I tried to pick it up.
The can crumpled.
---
"…Oops again."
---
> [Bearer Load Feedback:]
— Fine Motor Interaction: DEGRADED
---
"…You're not built for delicate actions anymore," Mira said.
"…I used to be sickly," I replied dryly.
"Now I can't even pick up garbage without committing a felony."
---
I left the can where it was.
Somewhere, a city worker would curse me tomorrow.
I would feel it.
---
"…This is ridiculous," I muttered.
---
I stopped near a convenience store.
Bright lights.
Automatic doors.
---
I hesitated.
"…Mira?"
"Yes?"
"…What happens if I walk into that?"
---
She didn't answer immediately.
Then—
"…Let's not find out."
---
We both watched as a normal human entered.
Doors opened smoothly.
Closed.
---
"…Okay," I said.
"So no automatic doors."
---
I hovered slightly.
Doors opened.
Flickered.
Paused.
Then—
Shut.
---
"…Rude," I muttered.
---
> [System Note:]
— Infrastructure Response: UNCERTAIN
---
"…You're too ambiguous," Mira explained.
"…Story of my life."
---
I moved on.
Carefully avoided:
Elevators
Escalators
Anything with a weight sensor
---
I finally stopped in a quiet park.
Empty benches.
Old trees.
Grass that had seen worse.
---
I lowered myself onto a stone bench.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
---
The bench cracked.
But held.
---
"…Progress," I said.
---
Mira hummed thoughtfully.
"…You're adapting."
"…I'm babysitting reality."
---
Silence fell.
Not uncomfortable.
Just tired.
---
"…Do you regret it?" Mira asked suddenly.
---
I thought about it.
About the weight.
The strategists.
The people I'd never meet.
---
"…No," I said.
"But I reserve the right to complain."
---
She laughed again.
---
"…You know," she said,
"this might actually help you."
"…How?"
"…You can't rush anymore."
---
I frowned.
---
"…You can't save everyone yourself," she continued.
"You physically can't."
---
I exhaled.
"…Yeah."
---
The park lights flickered once.
Then steadied.
---
A kid rode past on a bicycle.
Too fast.
Wobbled.
---
I tensed—
Then stopped myself.
---
The kid corrected.
Kept riding.
---
> [Bearer Load:]
— No Increase Detected
---
"…You didn't intervene," Mira noted.
"…I trusted him."
---
Something eased.
Just a little.
---
> [Bearer Load: 84% → 82%]
---
"…Huh," I muttered.
---
Mira went very quiet.
"…Re— Remnant."
"…Yeah?"
"…Choosing not to act… reduced the load."
---
I stared at my hands.
Steady.
Less tremble.
---
"…So that's it," I said softly.
"I don't have to carry everything."
---
The city breathed.
---
> [System Observation:]
— Selective Intervention Recognized
— Bearer Sustainability: IMPROVED
---
"…The strategists were wrong," Mira said.
"…They thought you'd break."
"…They still might be right," I replied.
"But not tonight."
---
I stood up.
The bench survived.
Barely.
---
"…Okay," I said, squaring my shoulders carefully.
"New rule."
"…Another one?" Mira asked.
"…Personal rule," I clarified.
---
I smiled faintly.
---
"…I save people."
"But I don't steal their chance to save themselves."
---
The weight settled.
Not gone.
But manageable.
---
> [Status Update:]
— Bearer Load: 82% (STABLE / SUSTAINABLE)
— Intervention Pattern: SELECTIVE
— Psychological Integrity: IMPROVED
---
Somewhere far away—
The strategist frowned.
---
Because tonight—
For the first time—
I learned how to live with the weight.
---