Two Syringes, Three Gazes
Three gazes locked onto the two syringes at once.
Abandoned building. I was left alone.
The Principal had said it.
This world moves to maintain balance, and it wants us to fight monsters forever.
Mask had said it.
We're all monsters. Monsters made with bodies that can wield mana.
...We were born the same way as monsters, but they treat us as enemies.
The evidence piled up, revealing the truth.
A world artificially created for the spectacle of ability users battling monsters.
A clump of text, zeros and ones, fake.
At least to me, the world I was living in right now felt real.
I pulled a lighter from my pocket.
Click. Click. Fwoosh—.
I stared blankly at the flickering flame for a long time.
Nothing changes.
I'm going to become a hero. Someone worthy of standing proudly by another's side.
That's what I decided.
Once I decide something, I don't change it.
"You're here because it's you, not Ivy Lane."
"Shut up."
"It's all your fault!"
"I said shut up."
"You're not Ivy Lane, and this world isn't real. Simple as that."
I took a deep breath and opened my mouth again.
"Fuck! I said shut up—!"
Click. Click.
A sound rang out.
The lighter's flame was the same, my fingers unchanged.
I frowned.
It was getting worse, bit by bit. The two syringes in my pocket were making their presence known.
I let out a heavy sigh.
"Anyway, time to head back."
"That's not your home."
"...Ha."
The mutter slipped out.
As if waiting for it, Father replied.
"Lately, you haven't been seeing Mother much."
"Your object of fear has always been me."
"Is that so?"
"......"
"You're not that scary anymore."
I let out a smirk. A sneer.
Father just stood there, doing nothing, staring at me silently.
"Pfft..."
Laughter burst out. The previous one had been a sneer; this time, the situation itself was just ridiculous.
"Hahaha... ha..."
I laughed for a good while, then bowed my head, bent at the waist, and crouched on the floor, exhaling heavily.
A sigh.
The concrete floor of the abandoned building was gray. But now, it was flesh-colored.
During the first worsening, it had kindly given me a countdown to warn when symptoms would escalate. Now, nothing.
The concrete floor pulsed like skin. Like a fish flopped out of the sea.
Hundreds of eyeballs sprouted from the flesh-toned floor, staring up at me intently.
I rubbed my eyes.
Shook my head.
It looked so vivid. So real.
But it was all hallucinations.
"Look at you, a pathetic worm who can't distinguish reality from delusion."
"...Ha."
"Face reality. You're fake."
Father gripped my shoulder hard.
It felt unpleasant.
"You can't become like them. They're real. The protagonist and heroine. Your death means nothing. If you weren't here, the world would function normally."
If only I weren't here.
"Shut up."
I hurled the lighter I was gripping onto the flesh-like concrete.
It bounced off, crushing one of the eyeballs.
A squelching pop, and dark red blood splattered across my face.
A nauseating metallic stench filled the air.
I staggered to my feet. Time to go back to the dorm.
One step forward. The next instant, my knee joints seemed to bend backward in a dizzying illusion, and my vision shook violently from top to bottom.
"Ah..."
I lost my balance.
Time stretched endlessly in the moment of falling.
The drug's side effects warped my sense of time grotesquely.
The floor opened its maw.
The flesh-mass floor gaped wide in a massive grin, ready to swallow me.
I tumbled into it.
Thud! Of course, I couldn't actually enter.
My shoulder and head slammed into the asphalt.
Skin scraped raw. Bones ached.
Before the pain, a vicious chill hit first.
"Hic, heuk..."
I couldn't breathe properly.
Felt like mud clogged my throat. I clutched my neck and rolled on the ground.
"Pathetic sight."
Father loomed over me, pressing down on my back with his shoe.
No weight registered.
He still couldn't do a damn thing to me. Nothing had changed.
Deep breaths. Calm down.
I tried to shake off the hallucination somehow, but it wouldn't budge.
I wanted to beg for help, but my lips wouldn't move, and my tongue stayed silent.
How much time passed? Or did time even flow properly?
Plip, plop. Tiny pebbles fell from above to below.
No—since my head was planted on the ground, they must have bounced up briefly from below.
Footsteps approached.
"Ivy!"
A voice. A real voice.
The pressure on my back vanished. Someone embraced me.
My light body lifted into the air.
Princess carry... It felt awkwardly intimate.
I curled up, clutching my head in someone's arms.
My whole body trembled.
The person holding me froze stiff.
"Ivy, it's me."
A trembling voice. A man's voice.
"Ja-an."
Ja-an? ...Why?
My stalled brain churned, untangling the knotted thoughts bit by bit.
Why was Ja-an here at this exact moment?
A question surfaced.
'Stalking me?'
Slowly, very slowly, I opened my eyes.
The flesh chunks and eyeballs filling my vision shattered into powder and vanished.
Gray concrete floor, the normal landscape of reality—but desaturated, colorless.
Right in front of me was Ja-an, sweat-matted bangs disheveled, holding me tight.
His purple eyes shook violently.
"...Ja-an."
"It's me."
Han Ye-seo came running up behind him, her face deathly pale.
Her naturally white skin now looked ghostly, like a corpse.
"Ivy! You okay?!"
Han Ye-seo slid to a stop and grabbed my hand. Hers was colder, shakier than mine.
"...How'd you know to come here? You two."
"Is that important right now?!"
"For starters, why were you two together?"
Han Ye-seo clamped her mouth shut and looked away.
Main heroine. Protagonist.
The two of them together...
'Ah.'
A nauseating thought flashed by.
I blankly alternated glances between their faces.
The reason they were here. Had they seen my meeting with the Principal? Did they notice my hallucinations?
My head spun in circles.
Hit a wall soon enough.
No choice but to ask directly.
Ja-an supported my shoulder, trying to set me down on the ground.
"Can you stand?"
"...Ugh."
My legs had no strength.
My body went limp, collapsing.
As I started to fall again, Ja-an urgently slipped his arms under my waist and knees.
Skilled moves.
Han Ye-seo eyed my skirt intently.
'Ah, the pocket.'
Women's skirts rarely have pockets.
But academy uniforms prioritize practicality, so they provide pants for girls or skirts with pockets.
Ivy Lane hadn't chosen pants, so I hadn't realized.
Anyway, back to the point... Skirt pockets are avoided because they ruin the silhouette.
Stuff a phone or wallet in, and it bulges obviously.
Syringes are slim and long, so the protrusion is minimal. When sitting or standing, with the skirt draping straight down, it doesn't show.
That's why I kept them in the pocket.
Jacket or top pockets made quick draws impossible anyway—no other choice.
Right now, I was floating in Ja-an's arms.
Meaning the skirt pocket sagged, outlining the syringes.
Han Ye-seo strode forward and swiftly moved her hand.
Before I could raise mine to stop her, she yanked the pocket open.
Thud. Something fell from the pocket to the ground.
Two gleaming glass tubes. A syringe filled with black liquid, another with clear.
Silence stretched.
Breath caught in my throat.
Three gazes locked onto the two syringes at once.
"Ah..."
A sigh escaped.
Pick them up? Hide them?
Too late for either.
I knew it was too late, but still thrashed in Ja-an's arms, reaching for the syringes.
Before my hand could touch, Han Ye-seo snatched them up first.
"...Don't. Touch those."
I startled at my own voice.
It cracked like a stray dog's dying whine. Han Ye-seo stared at me, eyes shaking as she held the syringes.
Tears welled around her eyes.
"Ivy, you..."
"No. It's not what you think."
I needed to explain, but my mind went blank—nothing came.
Ja-an's gaze shifted between my state and the syringes in her hand.
Skin, pupils, cold sweat, convulsions. Every circumstantial clue pointed to one conclusion.
I could see exactly what misunderstanding they'd jump to.
'...Suicide.'
I needed to die fast, regress to the checkpoint.
I immediately rolled out of Ja-an's arms.
Just before hitting the ground, I tucked into a landing roll, planting both feet.
While Han Ye-seo and Ja-an panicked, I lunged for the black syringe.
She tried to pull away, but with Agility C+, my speed was more than enough.
—Or so I thought.
Smack! Ja-an grabbed my wrist outright.
He asked in a voice cold as ice.
"Explain."
Hand it over. Now.