I Am Not Human
The non-human person Noah finally snapped out of it, her expression slightly stiffening as she replied, "I am not your mother."
"S-Sorry, Teacher. I just... had a sad dream."
"A sad dream...?"
"Yes! It was a dream where Mother held my hand so tightly. I was abandoned at the orphanage when I was four... Back then, Mother grabbed my hand and smiled at me. But yesterday, I had that dream again, so maybe that's why you and Mother overlapped in my eyes... I didn't mean to..."
"...It's fine. Everyone slips up with words sometimes. It's not worth scolding you over."
"Hehe, okay."
Mom. Noah rolled the word around in her mouth for a moment. It felt awkward. If words had a taste, "mom" tasted bitterly astringent to her—like something that made her tongue numb even after spitting it out.
"...Hurry and wash up. Let's start your lessons. I'll teach you how to distinguish the tools first."
"Yes!"
Noah felt a twinge of unease about this life.
"Um, Teacher. Can we sleep together tonight...? I think there's a monster under my bed..."
"No need to be scared. It's just an illusion born from the dark. Fear comes from ignorance, so check under the bed properly with your own eyes and..."
"Just tonight...? Please?"
"...Sigh. Alright. It's not that big a request."
"Teacher."
"What now today?"
"Hehe. A present!"
"...A drawing."
"I drew you and me. I really wanted to give it to you."
"Thank you. Your feelings are truly precious."
"Hehe. Inspiration just hit me out of nowhere."
"Ow, it hurts..."
"I told you to be careful. Lots of the tools are sharp and pointy."
"This medicine hurts too much. Can I just have one drop of your blood instead? Hehe."
"No. That's not medicine to use so casually."
"Tch."
"..."
"Ah, good morning, Mother..."
"Another sad dream?"
"This time, it's not a mistake."
"..."
"Can't I call you that just once?"
"No."
"You're so mean."
"Mother."
"I've told you how many times, I──."
"The director passed away."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"Teach me, Mother. Did the director... go to a good place?"
"...Of course. She lived her whole life serving children. Surely in heaven, she's smiling right next to Father."
"Hehe... That's a relief."
"...Do you want to see her again, by any chance?"
"I'd be lying if I said no... but it's okay. I can wait. If I live righteously too... someday I can go to her side, right?"
"Mm. Yes... You too... someday..."
"Mother."
"Hurry and wash your face and get up."
"Hehe, you're not saying anything about it anymore?"
"...The title doesn't matter."
"Ah, so that means you allow it?"
"No."
"Mother. Are you okay? Your complexion..."
"I'm fine."
"You haven't slept at all for days. To me, Mother looks sleep-deprived!"
"No. I'm really fi──."
"Ahem."
"Gigachad. Are you there?"
-
"Of Course. Noabitch. You calling me first? That's new."
"You said you're my inner self. So, well, I don't really know my own heart. That's why I have a question."
-"By All Means. Ask away. What I know is what you know too... but sometimes, you gotta ask yourself to hear the answer."
A hearty response. The saintess asked cautiously, her voice trembling like she'd seen a ghost.
"Am I... growing fond of that child?"
Gigachad grinned brightly. A refreshing smile that bared his pearly whites. Affirmation so obvious no question was needed.
But.
The saintess asked anyway. She could hardly believe it.
"I... that child..."
-"Noabitch. Asking the same question over and over won't change the answer."
"..."
Time spent with the child had been truly happy. So happy that Noah realized people get anxious when overly happy.
"...I can't become that child's mother. I don't know tenderness. I don't know familial love."
It terrified her. Hurting that child. She── couldn't become a child's mother. She mustn't. It was wrong.
"Excessive attachment isn't good for the child either. Right now, she's just projecting her mother's absence onto me. So for her sake, I need to cut it off firmly now──."
-"Noabitch."
Noah shut her mouth. A voice chilling enough to raise goosebumps. Gigachad's face twisted.
Noah instinctively diagnosed the expression. Anger, worry, sadness. And a hint of joy and relief... A bizarre face.
-"If you wanna change, I'll cheer you on with everything I've got. Push you uphill, catch you downhill. Tell you to rest when it's too hard. But."
"But in the end, I have to walk myself── right?"
-"But if you give up walking entirely, I'll beat and yell at you till you stand back up."
"Pardon?"
Gigachad always preached the importance of self-determination. But not today.
-"Paths can be tough—you rest. You trip, sit, even lie down. Detour midway."
"..."
-"But giving up? That's different. Really different. Rough road, tired, goal too far... Totally quitting? That's for Fucking Pussies. Rest Hard, Work Hard. Rest hard, then walk hard. If you plop down forever, I'll have to whoop that Fucking Loser Mind of yours."
The current Gigachad... felt like a doctor. Doctors force things on patients, right? Endure pain to get healthy. Bitter meds, exercise, no booze, constant nagging—that's a doctor's job.
"Oh, misunderstanding!"
So Noah defended herself. Like a patient making excuses to a doctor. Blushing like one claiming just one drink, forced by friends, spouting lame excuses.
"It's just that becoming a child's mother doesn't align with my goals. What I truly want is... well..."
-"Wanting noble, ideal love? Like Father's love in heaven."
"Yes! Serving all is my ideal──."
-"Noabitch. You're not a god."
"..."
That was.
A truth Noah had ignored her whole life.
-"Noah. My poor daughter. No eternal suffering. No eternal bliss or peace. No salvation. No final sermon conquering all pain, no Judgment Day reviving saints and burning sinners. You can't save everyone. God can't save you. You're not a god. God isn't you."
Noah stared blankly at Gigachad. Light sparkled in her clear eyes.
A doctor's eyes diagnosing a patient's pain examined Gigachad.
And.
Noah realized she'd been utterly mistaken until now.
Misdiagnosis.
Noah corrected her self-diagnosis.
"You're not my 'inner self'."
-"Right. The illness in your heart isn't you. The noble lady you stole love from, the poor kid doomed to fever-death—they're not you. Your suffering isn't 'you' either."
"You──."
-"You can't bear their suffering. You can't understand it."
"You, so I..."
Her attempted rebuttal trailed off, dissolving into incomprehensible mumbles.
In a tiny voice only she could hear, she questioned this not-self.
"What the hell can I even do?"
The world is merciless. Thus, meaning must come from suffering.
If all the world is suffering.
If suffering is sweetness, then this world is truly sweet.
"Too much I can't do. No, I can't do anything. Yeah. My suffering isn't me, my patients aren't me, I'm not even me... If I can't save anyone, if this world holds no value... then what's the point of my actions? Does denying and ignoring everything make me happy?"
But if even suffering is fleeting.
If all is vanity upon vanity, utter vanity.
No flowers bloom in suffering, no sweet fruit ripens.
What's the meaning in preaching suffering's meaninglessness?
"I don't want to become a coward."
Not acting against injustice just because nothing changes.
Better to gouge out eyes and live blind.
"I'll save them. I'll... bear all the suffering. If suffering never ends while life persists, then I'll end that life. Must I kill the whole world? Is that my fate? Was I... born to kill the world?"
In that moment, she grasped her own fate.
She was wise enough. Coldly analytical of herself.
"I was just... born like this..."
Disease name. Noah. Incurable.
Her self-diagnosis.
The world's horrific illness.
"How can someone like me become tender?"
-"Stop Overthinking. Noah. Forget world, god crap. Just think what you want now."
"..."
-"If all the world is vanity── chase vain happiness. Act alpha. Protect your pack. Eat greedily, devour lustfully. Make time for loved ones, chase off intruders. That's becoming tender. Favoring someone. Devoting your time wholly to one."
"...Selfish."
-"Human. You're human. Not a god."
No. Wrong.
-"Hungry? Eat. Sleepy? Lie down. Mad? Yell. Sad? Cry. Receive? Rejoice. Lose? Grieve. Crying over loss doesn't mean you're attached to things. Means you valued them that much."
Noah had no father. From birth. Not metaphor—she was truly born whole.
"...No, no. Can't. Actually──."
A secret untold. No, unwanted told.
"...I'm not human."
She wasn't human.
And.
Gigachad's response to her confession:
-"Noabitch. My Idiot... Told you. Whatever you wanna be, I'll cheer you with everything."
"..."
-"What matters isn't how you were born."
"..."
"Truly──."
"Truly what matters is... how you live..."
-"Of Course. You know it well. My Daughter. Tell me how you wanna live. With your own mouth."
"I..."
A monster born treating a malignant tumor in a girl's womb. Aberration from advanced healing magic. Praying nightly for health, yet doomed by origin. Walking cancer cell.
"I. That is. Well."
She could only grow healthy through suffering. Her essence was illness.
Her god, god of the sick. 'Father in heaven' surely cherished her truly.
"Want to live... as human."
No longer saintess, she dies. Eats herself dead.
"No. Want to die... as human."
But birth uncontrollable.
Living is deciding how to die, no?
Noah decided her fate.
And.
To one deciding her fate, only one reply:
-"My Daughter, as Thou Wilt."
-"As you wish. Our daughter."
Our Father in heaven.
Take this cup from me.
Yet.
If my will differs from Father's.
Then.
I shall overturn this cup of life myself...