Prologue: The Sentence
"At most, one year."
"......I see."
"......I'm sorry."
I'm sorry.
I couldn't even remember the last time I'd heard those words.
What reached me was the doctor's pity—nothing more.
It didn't feel bad.
No. Strange was the better word for it.
All that pity and guilt I'd never managed to draw out of anyone no matter how hard I tried, and here I was receiving both from a doctor I'd met for the first time today.
The word terminal itself didn't shock me.
It wasn't as if I'd ever clung to some dream of living a long, healthy life free of illness.
It was simply curious.
Curious, and nothing else.
Ah.
So effort really doesn't matter at all.
That was the only thought that rose to the surface.
"Could you wait just a moment? Just a moment, please?"
I rose blankly from the chair, still turning the thought over, and the doctor—who until then had kept his head bowed low—stopped me.
"......What is it?"
"I'll find a way. Somehow. There has to be a way for you to live."
"..."
"So please, don't give up on life. Just wait a little longer."
"Give up on life? Me?"
"......Excuse me?"
The doctor made a dull, stupid sound, as if the question had never crossed his mind.
No.
He was the one who'd said something ridiculous first. What was he expecting?
Give up on life?
Why would I go to the trouble of something that bothersome?
"If you're saying that because you're worried the terminal sentence might shock me into killing myself...... you don't need to worry."
"......But—"
"Kill myself? Why would I do something so pointless?"
"..."
"If I'd really been thinking that way, I wouldn't have come to see you in the first place."
If I'd truly wanted to die, I never would have come here.
With so little time left, living out the rest of it in comfort would barely be enough—why waste it on suicide?
"So you don't need to worry. There's absolutely no chance I'll kill myself."
If he still wouldn't believe me, maybe I ought to put money on it.
I seriously considered how to load more trust into the words, but fortunately the doctor in front of me nodded as if he would take them at face value.
"......I'll believe you."
"I'll live more comfortably than anyone until I go, so feel free to believe me."
I gave the doctor—still staring at me to the very end—one last measure of reassurance, then slowly left the heavy air of the consultation room behind.
Hmm.
So this is really the end.
......I really am going to live comfortably until I go.