The Rain That Never Stops
Three years. If I had to be precise, it wasn't exactly a short amount of time. But if that was the sum of my remaining life, it was impossible not to feel that it was far too brief. Who wouldn't be shocked to be told they only had three years left to live? Even if things went well and the world didn't end, it meant my end was already set in stone. I had even failed to keep the promise I made to Eve, that I wouldn't die...
But I didn't intend to despair and do nothing. If I failed to stop the events of the original story, most of the people in this world would be dead within three years anyway. No matter what my own end looked like, I didn't want to let the people I’d met in this world suffer such a fate. At the very least, I wanted everyone around me to be safe in those final moments. So, I’m fine. As I repeated that to myself, a voice echoed.
It was a voice that had started appearing ever since I saw the laboratory burning in my dreams. "Actually, you're not fine, are you?" I recalled the things I’d heard today. The Witch of Wrath, the test subject made from fragments of her heart. "You hate the world that made you like this, don't you? You hate it, you hate it so much you can barely stand it."
This voice was likely just the lingering consciousness of the witch within those heart fragments, babbling away. I knew from my dreams what happened if I listened to that thing. "Why don't you stop holding back and burn it all down?" Just like when I lost my reason and set the lab ablaze, I would end up burning everything around me without even realizing it. And at the end of that, I would likely burn myself, too. So, I ignored it. I had no intention of lending an ear to the voice of a madwoman like that.
I complained, asking why she was suddenly making noise when she had been quiet until now. At my outburst, the witch’s voice returned.
The witch's voice kept asking, "Really?" over and over. The relentless sound irritated me, and I grumbled inwardly. I’ve never heard a voice like yours. Then, finding something terribly amusing, she let out a laugh.
"Ahahahaha, you really don't remember. That's funny. How did this happen?" As the witch's voice rang out, a corner of my consciousness twitched. For the first time, I felt it. A presence other than myself, hiding within my consciousness. The question I’d been harboring all this time was finally answered. If the person named Scarlet Evande had existed from the beginning, where had her consciousness gone?
The witch, still laughing, muttered as if she found it fascinating. "Ah, I see. How incredibly devoted. Was the original you taking on the memories of me just so you wouldn't have to suffer? That won't do. I'm trying so hard to help you be honest with the anger in your heart."
She hadn't died, nor had she disappeared. Scarlet Evande had been with me the entire time. "Now, I'll give your memories back." With that voice, the memories came flooding in like a tidal wave.
'I hated the world.' The voice I’d heard ever since I crossed into this world. 'You, too, shall become like this.' The sight of everything around me burning, which I’d seen in my dreams. The terrible pain of my body burning every time, the impulse to surrender to the rage and incinerate everything. 'Let's burn it all. The things you hate. The world you hate.' Jesse’s crying, the class representative’s body growing cold on the floor, and myself, wrapped in flames, trying to burn them too. '...I hate it.' The desperate resistance I’d somehow managed to endure.
Memories so harrowing that I couldn't understand how I’d managed to forget them—they all came rushing back. ...Damn it, no wonder I was hearing auditory hallucinations after going through all that. No matter how difficult the situation had been, it was certain that the stress from these memories had played a massive role in making my mental state even worse than I’d imagined. Perhaps the reason I felt I could endure even when a knife was driven into my hand or my arm was severed was because I had unknowingly experienced the pain of my body burning over and over again.
Had the remaining consciousness of Scarlet Evande been helping me forget these memories all this time? If I had remembered all of this while having nowhere to lean on, I might have collapsed and broken down. It was certain that, at the very least, what she had done had helped me. I had been in her debt without even knowing it. If so, I had to repay that debt.
I focused my consciousness and listened to Scarlet Evande’s voice. It was faint and weak. But I could clearly hear what she wanted. She must have been wishing for one thing all along—perhaps even to the point where it influenced me. Since what she desired was what I desired, I spoke to her. I promise. Scarlet Evande will become someone who protects people. I couldn't stay slumped over, not if I wanted to achieve that. So, ignoring the thoughts filling my head, I repeated it to myself endlessly. I am fine.
"You're such a poor liar."
I ignored the voice ringing in my head.
[Ding-ding-ding~ Good morning~ Ding-ding-ding-]
The sound of an alarm I hadn't heard in a long time. I’d thought it was a sound I hated so much, but hearing it after a while, it felt strangely nostalgic. I slowly reached out and fumbled by my bedside until the alarm stopped. When I opened my eyes, I saw the familiar ceiling. Had Yoon Siwoo or Sylvia brought me home? I tried to lift my body, but my arms lacked strength, and I collapsed back onto the bed. My head felt foggy, and I couldn't put any strength into my limbs. My physical condition was at its worst.
I have to go to school, I thought, but when I checked my phone, it was a day I didn't have to go. That was at least a relief. As I lay limply on the bed, I heard a whoosh sound. Looking out the window, rain was pouring down in buckets. The lack of energy was probably because of the rain. I hated the rain. Ever since I was young, whenever it rained, my mood would sink just like it was today.
There were people who would walk in the rain without an umbrella, filled with sentimentality, spouting nonsense like, "I love the rain because it hides my flowing tears," but in my eyes, those people were all lunatics. If they’d ever had to do drainage work in the rain or woken up to a damp floor because the ceiling was leaking, they’d never say such things. ...Well, actually, I had a different reason for hating the rain.
Lying in bed, watching the rain fall outside the window, I thought of my mother. The mother in my memories was always smiling. After my father disappeared, she worked day and night to raise me alone, yet she was a kind person who somehow managed to provide every one of my meals. She was a strong person who, even while living such a busy life, would always answer with a smiling face when I asked if she was tired, saying, "Mom is fine." She was a bold person who wouldn't hesitate to lie that she preferred chicken breast over drumsticks just for her son. She was a foolish person who, no matter how sick she was, would hide it until the very moment she collapsed just to avoid being a burden to her son.
The day my mother collapsed, it had rained just like today. The doctor said that when cancer begins to spread throughout the body, it is usually painful enough to make a normal person unable to move. Yet, my mother had worked until the very moment she collapsed, in a physical state that would have made it strange for a normal person not to have been bedridden long ago. It was because she didn't want to worry me and because hospital treatment cost so much money.
Having heard that my mother was in critical condition during my military service, I had taken leave and rushed over. At first, I was going to get angry, asking who told her to endure such pain just to do that. That was, until I saw my mother lying in the hospital bed. She was much thinner than the last time I’d seen her. Yet, even though she must have been in agonizing pain and terrified of the possibility of imminent death, she smiled brightly as soon as I entered. That smile was no different from when she was healthy.
Instead of getting angry at my smiling mother, I couldn't say a word. My mother had a habit of saying that when you smile, not only you, but the people around you become happy. And my mother had only ever shown me a smiling face. Knowing that the reason my mother smiled wasn't for her own happiness, all that came out were tears. Watching me cry, my mother slowly held out her pinky finger and said, "Mom would rather see her son smiling than crying. I'll be watching from the sky, so even if Mom dies, you have to live your life smiling, okay?"
Until the very moment she died, she thought of me. She wanted me to be able to live happily, smiling in the future. That was the kind of person my mother was. I was a person who cried easily, but because my mother said she wanted to see me smile, I hooked my finger with hers and smiled as broadly as I could with all my might. My mother smiled as if she were relieved. And so, my mother remained in my memories with a smiling face until the very end.
When my mother’s hand turned colder than the summer raindrops, I opened my mouth. From tomorrow, from tomorrow I will definitely keep my promise, so please just give me one day. Even though the clouds cleared outside, the rain didn't stop for the entire day. Ever since that day, suppressing the urge to cry became a part of my daily life. Unfortunately, I wasn't as strong as my mother, so when things were hard, not crying was the best I could do. Becoming a person like my mother, who could smile no matter how hard things were while wishing for someone else’s happiness, was not an easy thing to do.
I looked at the rain falling outside the window. My face was faintly reflected in the glass. It didn't look like a smiling face no matter how I looked at it, so I brought both hands to the corners of my mouth and pulled them up. That's a bit better than before. As I was thinking that, there was a knock at the door. I tried to open it, but I couldn't put any strength into my body. As I struggled for a moment, the closed door opened on its own.
"..."
Sylvia quietly opened the door and entered. Judging by her expression, she didn't seem to like the rain either.