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Suddenly, I woke up in a place I didn't recognize at all—a completely foreign room.
The stench of neuromedical droids filled the air—sharp, acrid, and stabbing up my nose.
A cold white light beamed down from the ceiling, making my eyes throb from the glare.
I was lying on a medical bed I'd never seen before.
"Where am I?"
Beside me, VelvetVice was there—looking as if he'd been waiting for me for quite some time.
He is asleep…
In the middle of my chaotic thoughts, VelvetVice stirred from his sleep.
He was out cold—deeply. His head hung forward, his face slack and worn, like he'd spent an entire night wrestling with something exhausting. His clothes were a mess too, as if he had been caught up in something stressful.
He looked like someone who had slept nearly an entire day.
His face was pale—like he'd been worrying about something.
Honestly, since when does this guy—who hides behind a female avatar, no less—have any empathy for anyone?
But… if I think about it, maybe he's just terrible at expressing anything he feels. And like me, Velvet-kun seems to understand one thing very well:
Emotions can murder logic.
Empathy isn't actually necessary—sometimes it's nothing more than an illusion, a compulsion to care for others just because we think we have to. And we often force it, unaware of the consequences of having that empathy at all. Because the truth is, empathy is dangerous, especially when exploited by irresponsible people.
It sounds cynical, but that's exactly what happened.
IRIS… the one I'd been trying to trust all this time. She betrayed me just like that.
Or… did she? Is that really what happened? Could she have been pretending?
I honestly don't know.
Anyway, in the middle of that spiraling conversation inside my head, VelvetVice finally sat up. He stretched, moving like someone who had just finished a long night shift. He looked like he'd been asleep for ages.
His eyes were still half-closed, but once they fully opened, his focus locked directly onto me lying there. His posture… annoyingly enough, looked kind of attractive.
How funny…
Wait…
Is this love?
No, no. No way.
Besides, what use is love even?
Loving someone won't buy you anything in this world. And being loved won't keep you alive in a place this cruel. Reality blindsides people mercilessly.
And that's why I don't want love. Neither do I want to love, nor be loved.
Because… like that one popular phrase says, true love is pretty much like a ghost.
And if you look closely, a ghost is nothing more than dry, wind-blown grass—wilted, fragile, and faint.
We never know if it actually exists, but we can still "see" it even though it isn't real.
And honestly, there's not even proof. How is anyone supposed to believe in it?
Then again, there are plenty of Japanese sayings about love, like:
Even pimples look like dimples.
Love is like the wind; you can't see it, but you can feel it.
If you have to say too much about how much you love someone, it means you really don't love them at all.
"Midnight?"
My pessimistic thoughts—those seemingly endless twisting passages with no exit—shattered the moment Kyou— no, VelvetVice—called out to me.
I had no idea what went through his mind as he approached me so suddenly.
His hand hovered halfway in the air, as if he'd been touching my shoulder—then quickly pulled back when he realized I was awake.
He was clearly worried. When he greeted me, his voice was soft.
"Are you alright?"
Our eyes met.
Unplanned… yet very close.
His gaze—usually sharp like knives—was glassy now, shimmering.
So… remember what I said earlier?
Yeah. Fuck it. Screw all of that.
If this really is love, maybe time is the only thing that can prove whether it's a ghost… or a wind that truly exists. Perhaps, it will tell me soon. Who knows at this point.