Beyond the window, the calm blue sky stretched endlessly. A flock of birds swept across the sky, as their wings traversed them. Not bound by anything. A stark reminder of the aching contrast of reality. This was nothing new. But today, it felt different.
Knock! Knock!
I exhaled heavily before answering, "Come in!"
The strong stench of the antiseptics. The walls that were too white, too clean, and scrubbed of anything resembling life. The constant beeping. Everything about this place... Grated on my nerves.
Behind the door, a woman peeked her head in, as her wide, flickering eyes landed on me. "Morning! Weather sure nice today!"
Her brightness hit like a spotlight, burning my retinas. Way too much this morning.
I raised a brow. "Morning."
She slipped fully into the room, grinning as she pushed a wheelchair toward my bed. "Complimentary commentary, state-of-the-art seating, coming your way."
"Just keep down a little bit," I muttered.
She leaned closer, sliding her arm under mine. "Come on..." Then grunted as she helped me eased down into the chair. "Up you get."
Went to our usual route. The same narrow corridor that I had seen countless times. The same path that I had memorized down to the cracks in the tiles. It never changed. The same sight day after day. Well, on the bright side, at least there was at least something worth looking at the end of this.
The only place that I can confidently say it's not so bad after all.
The garden.
Then settled ourselves next to a bench under a tree's shade with its branches dancing softly in the breeze.
I drew in a deep breath, "No better than a breath of fresh air,"
The garden wasn't empty—far from it, unusually packed today. So many faces today, laughing, talking, and simply having a good time overall. From a distance, it was a lovely sight. From here, it was just a reminder of the bitter reality.
Life is unfair.
Everyone's not born equal.
Some are born with a silver spoon in their mouth. Some aren't.
Some are born with god-given athletic ability, destined to make themselves known to the world.
Others can't even manage to lift themselves out of bed.
That's just reality.
Maybe I'm just a sore, pessimistic loser.
But given what life handed me. Why wouldn't I be? I know I'm not alone. I doubt I'm the only person asking the same questions.
It's apparent throughout human history, worship has been woven into human nature itself. No matter the distance. Separated by continents, culture, and time. Every civilization has always clung to something. Just something to revere, whether they're seen or something imagined.
Yet, in the end, they're all the same. One god or many. This god, that god. Or a single being above all others. Different names, different stories—same idea.
All-powerful beings, said to have shaped everything in existence. Omnipotent figures loved by many, worshipped endlessly. Beings defined by the promise of unconditional love.
But if that's so true... why does it feel as though some were forgotten?
To balance things?
Utter bullshit.
Then why me?
I always tell, "But as life goes on, I've slowly learned to accept things for what they are." It's a line I hand out like gum to everyone around me, easy to say, easier to believe.
The truth is... I always hated it.
I cannot accept it.
However, there's one thing I've accepted—and that is helplessness. At least, there's one.
"Sup, kiddo." A husky voice came from behind me, then accompanied by a firm pat on my shoulder. "You doing well?"
Leaning back in my seat, then turned my head and replied jokingly. "That's a surprise. You're here."
"Still my job." He said.
"You probably lost a ton at pachinko."
"Well, that's one thing. Most importantly, it's simply my duty."
"Duty my ass." I scoffed, "Good thing, they haven't fired your ass."
"Of course. I'm—"
"The irreplaceable doctor, yeah, yeah. I've heard that countless times already," I finished his sentence.
"Must be blackmail," I retorted.
"Someday, you'll learn how value works," He said with a smile. "Also..."
"Smile! You won't get any girls if you're this grumpy!" He added enthusiastically, grinning like an idiot. Absolutely disgusting.
He tugged both corners of my cheeks upward. "Smile more. Must I keep repeat myself, you ever-so-serious one? Smile! Smile!"
His eyes locked onto mine briefly, then he grinned again, his eyes crescenting, before plopping down beside me.
How is this a doctor?
Behind his good looks, he's the most degenerate person I know, alongside my brother.
Then suddenly, a familiar tune reached my ears. An intro I'd heard countless times before. The man himself, the one I'd grown close to, the one who never stopped complaining about not having a girlfriend despite being born with good looks, was now playing it on his phone.
"Again, in a public place, of all places?" I scolded, as my voice carried more shame than anger.
"What? No harm in doing so. Also, who cares."
"Have some shame."
"Ain't listening to the grumpy one." He scoffed.
He then paused it, shot me a glance, then leaned back casually, "Where's the other fella? I don't see him much these nowadays."
"Busy, I guess. I don't know." I replied, "Must be school and stuff. You know, college stuff?"
"Who studies anyway? You read it once, then toss it in the bin."
"Sucks to be smart, then?" I asked sarcastically, not buying it.
He averted his eyes. "Obviously. Do you have any idea how hard it was to remain sober back then?" He admitted, his voice tightened as if dredging up the memories from the past should be left buried. "Remembering those times..."
My eyes lingered somewhere else entirely. "Is that so?"
And this is the kind of person the world calls fair.
"Come on now!" He screamed at his screen.
I gave a quick glance at his screen. He hurriedly switched it back to the main menu, with the title "Infinite Spirit" plastered across the screen.
It was a familiar sight. I'd seen it countless times before.
The game was popular among people like him who are fans of the eroge genre. An R18 category usually aimed at adult men, though sometimes even younger teens found their way into it. To put it bluntly, it's just an RPG game disguised as porn... Wait. No. The other way around, porn disguised as an RPG game. Basically, porn.
To its credit, the story was serviceable, with multiple endings depending on the protagonist's progress with the heroines.
Both he and my brother are what they usually call Otakus. I was an otaku myself, though more into mainstream genres. I could never quite understand the genre. I'm probably not adult enough?
Still, the story was fairly interesting to say the least. Like every magical fantasy that exists out there, this game revolves around Spirits Beasts, also known as Spirits of the Lost Ark in the game, to be exact. It's the main power system of the world.
Then there's the premise of the story, where the protagonist must gather all the female leads to prevent the Eschaton, or the end of the world. A pretty straightforward premise.
"Fuck this shit!" He cursed under his breath, as the death screen hovered in front of him.
"So... was this the second or third installment of the game?" I asked curiously.
"Second. I was trying to get the One soul, One World achievement before the new one drops."
"They haven't released it yet?"
"Supposedly, the last installment of the game." Then, paused, with a gleeful look on his face, before he continued. "And, it's today. Haaaa... Can't wait."
"Ehh... Heck, surprised it even had a sequel in the first place." They're milking it.
At this point, those heroines should've been pregnant already, or have a kid. Honestly. Like seriously, how?
Clutching his phone to his chest, tilted his head back dramatically. "Today! Today is the day it the releases. I even hired someone to pick it from the store. I'm spending my whole day off in an all-nighter!"
"Hired?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Who even buys from a store nowadays? Such a hassle to even think about it. At this age, physical copies are worth nothing." I commented jokingly.
He froze, then turned to me with a death stare.
They're the same.
Too alike.
It's creepy and too dramatic.
I don't get it.
Am I the blood-related one? I'm adopted, surely.
I lifted my arms in mock surrender. "You know what. Forget about it. It's stupid of me to even question about it."
"So, what's this achievement?" I asked to steer the conversation away.
Because I knew he'd spend the next hour rambling about the so-called sentimental and monetary value of physical copies. I'd rather die than listen to that shit.
He kept his eyes on his phone. "It's a playthrough without the heroines. Then at the end, you'll unlock the super rare secret ending."
"Without the heroines?" I leaned closer, curious to see what he meant
So... Playing without the porn part?
"Basically, I'm playing it Dark Souls-style."
I pursed my lips with disgust written all over my face. "... Please. Don't ever, ever, ever... Say that... Ever. It just... doesn't sit right with me. It, coming from your mouth, feels so wrong. I don't know why it feels so offensive."
"Huh? Why me?" He raised a brow in confusion.
"Just because."
"Okay... Mr. Serious." He shrugged it off before turning his attention back to his phone.
Watching the screen made me think of my brother, rambling through the story with all the enthusiasm in the world.
Shin Morino, the main protagonist, was born a commoner and of course, grew up an orphan. His uncle raised him alone, instilling these lofty ideals of stuff in his head. Something. Something. About justice and righteousness. Typical setup.
"Did you know? There's only one person who's ever gotten that secret ending?" He said casually.
"Hm?" I raised an eyebrow, piquing my curiosity.
"Your brother."
To be honest, quite conflicting. On one hand, it sounded exactly like something he would do. However, the fact that he had also beaten out thousands of players who lived and breathed for these types of games... Should I feel proud? Disgust? No in-between.
'If he's enjoying it, then. I guess...' I thought to myself
"So—" As I was about to ask when.
Beeeeep... Beeeep...
"Oh, oh, oh! I'm getting called!" He suddenly shot up from his seat.
Is that a pager?
"Kiddo, take care! Gotta tend to something." He patted me lightly on the back before rushing off.
I waved my hand once, "Well, that's it fo—"
But words were caught in my throat.
Something was wrong.
The air became dense and heavy. I slammed my hand against my chest, nails digging through the fabric. A dull ringing soon filled my ears.
And then—
Everything stopped.
When I opened my eyes, every strand of hair on my body stood as if I were in a fever dream. Eyes appeared everywhere, deep, unsettling eyes, each one burning with inexplicable intensity. As if I had suddenly become something worth watching. The garden's calm atmosphere before soured into something that came straight out of a horror movie.
By the flowerbed stood a woman. Next to her, by the bench, a teenager lingered with his thumb half-raised as he stopped mid-scrolling. Lastly, near the gate, the old man sat with his chin dipped, eyes lifted, so still... I was sure he's not breathing anymore. All of whom stopped, eyes fixed on me.
As each eye kept multiplying and multiplying, I squeezed mine shut.
Once I opened mine again, and just like that, it was over.
They didn't disappear. Not really. Their gazes did.
The woman bent to her purse.
The teenager's thumb continued scrolling.
The old man stayed the same. Someone should check on the old man.
As if everything that just happened disappeared in the blink of an eye.
I let out a ragged gasp as sweat trickled down my neck. I quickly glanced around, unsure if I was still seeing things. However, everything was normal. Too normal.
As I was about to call someone for help, something grabbed at me, not solid, not warm, just wrong in a way I couldn't name.
Thud!
My eyes snapped open, yet everything turned into darkness.
My instinct told me to run.
I tried to turn my head, to sit up, even to lift a single finger. Yet, nothing worked. I could feel my joints responding, arms pushing, and my neck twisting, but for some odd reason, my body stayed frozen like someone had wrapped their hands around my chest and belly, then held me tightly.
Panic bloomed slowly and coldly as I tried again. I can feel my shoulders flexing in my mind, with my legs ready to bolt, and yet all of it played out behind my eyes, as if I were watching myself from somewhere else.
I was awake.
I knew I was awake.
My mind says so.
But something kept me pinned. Not by pressure, but by absence.
The wind slipping through the hedges. Water trickling faintly from the fountain. A wheelchair squeaking as it rolled across. Every sound reached me—I could hear them all.
So I screamed, again and again, from the very depth of my lungs.
Yet no one heard me.
Everything moved, except me.
Then a faint ding echoed in the distance.
At first, it was barely there, almost like a fly zipping across. Then my chest tightened as it rang again, louder and sharper this time, scraping against the insides of my skull.
What's going on?
I'm scared.
The bell wouldn't stop. Each second, it grew closer, faster, and each ding hammered through my skull. Slowly, devouring my thoughts, my fear, my sense of self, leaving nothing behind but—the sound.
Everything went silent.
Not peaceful. Not calm. Just emptiness.