Foods he liked, foods he disliked. Rotten water, spoiled drinks, soy sauce, salt, sugar, anything at all.
No matter how spoiled or strong-smelling the food was, Kenji couldn't taste anything at all. He could faintly smell the scent, but unless it was directly poured into his nose, his sense of smell wasn't much different from his taste. Fortunately, his sight, hearing, and touch remained intact, but that wasn't much comfort.
"...Shiiit."
Kenji spat out a curse and dropped the bottle he was holding. *Crash!* With a loud sound, the empty glass bottle shattered. A terrible smell wafted from the bottle that had contained a mixture of various liquids—water, alcohol, vinegar, soy sauce, etc.—but Kenji couldn't smell any of it. The same went for the contents that had gone down his throat. Grinding his teeth, he *crunched* and stomped on the glass fragments rolling on the floor.
Overnight.
In just one day, he had lost two of his five senses. It was fortunate that it wasn't hearing or sight, but still, losing senses was a significant loss.
Think positively. Yes, think positively. He only lost two senses. A disability that wouldn't cause major disruption to daily life. It was too early to be devastated. But this was only the 'first day' of the second experiment. No one knows if he might lose more senses as the experiment continues.
"...Damn it."
The future was complicated. Kenji spat out another curse, then trudged over and plopped down on the sofa. Sweeping back his long bangs cleared his blurred vision somewhat.
He turned his head. The desert sky reflected in the window was clear without a single cloud. The hot sun heated the sand, warming the air and creating a heat haze. Beyond the shimmering haze, an oasis like a puddle was faintly visible. Was it a mirage, or a real oasis?
Whatever it was, it was equally undrinkable water. Kenji clicked his tongue and picked up a fruit knife placed on the table. The sharp blade glinted in the sunlight, reflecting Kenji's face.
'...If the cause of the taste disorder is a malfunctioning tongue.'
What about the pain sensation in the tongue?
He narrowed his eyes and glared at the blade. His deliberation was short. Kenji carefully moved the fruit knife in his hand and lightly poked his tongue with the tip. Fortunately, it seemed the sense of pain hadn't disappeared, as a faint pain was felt. Kenji nodded satisfactorily and swallowed the drop of blood that pooled on his tongue.
The taste was still not felt.
He put the fruit knife down on the table and stared blankly at the ceiling for a moment. The black-painted ceiling formed a strange harmony with the contrasting white light. And the ticking sound of the clock and the sandstorm sound from beyond the window cooled his head. A perfect situation to organize his thoughts. He let out a long breath and pressed the back of his hand to his forehead.
'...I can't be afraid and stop the experiment because of this.'
His cooled-down mind made the optimal judgment.
Losing taste and smell. It was certainly a serious side effect, but was it really a side effect from the experiment?
The experiment's content was merely injecting fear to make the seed bloom. While it's true that side effects exist when giving chemical fertilizer to plants, like how it doesn't majorly affect the plant. The loss of senses might not be a side effect of the experiment. Perhaps it was a process that must inevitably be undergone someday, a necessary step in the growth process of fear.
Of course, it's speculation without any basis, but the very experiment being conducted now is a gamble without a single sample. No hypothesis could be ignored. After ruminating for a while longer, Kenji got up around the time the sun had half disappeared beyond the horizon.
Regardless, the experiment must continue. Today was the second day of the second experiment. There were side effects, but since his body wasn't broken, he couldn't postpone the experiment. He left the room immediately and headed down to the basement where the testing site was installed.
As expected, visitors were present. Maestro and... 'Black Suit'. It seemed he chose that as a name because he liked being called that by the student Hoshino, but Kenji had no particular interest. Kenji examined the two with an expressionless face and then settled on the empty experimental table.
"Nameless One, the side effects haven't spread, have they."
Maestro asked. Kenji nodded shortly.
"Still just taste and smell are weird, the rest are normal."
"That's fortunate. More than that... Shouldn't we observe the progress further?"
"Just do it. Postponing it won't make anything better."
At Kenji's words, Maestro slightly twisted his neck. Whether it was a nod or a shake was unclear, but it didn't matter. Kenji wrapped the vital sign monitor placed on the experimental table around his arm and grabbed the tube connected to the fear. Removing the plastic sheath protecting the needle revealed the sharp needle. Without hesitation, he inserted that needle into his forearm.
Since it was an injection that didn't need to be precisely in a blood vessel anyway, Maestro sent the fear through the tube without another word. And so, under the watch of three people, the experiment began.
Fortunately.
No new side effects were discovered that day.
Except for one eye going blind.
*
The concept of 'dreams' is very abstract. They aren't something you can see just because you want to, and they aren't a novel with a continuous plot each time. Yet many people held vague fantasies about the word 'dream'. The reason was obvious. Because what you can't do in reality, you can achieve in a dream. The fact that lucid dreaming was once popular was also due to that reason.
However, lucid dreaming wasn't easy to achieve, and with some horror stories about it existing, its popularity vanished in an instant. But Seia had no reason to ride that trend, nor any need to strive to have lucid dreams.
Prophetic dreams.
For ordinary people, they were just dreams that gave a sense of déjà vu, but for Seia, prophetic dreams were a window to glimpse the future. Moreover, the previously erratic dream cycle had now developed to the point where she could have the dream she wanted, when she wanted, making the future the present for her, and dreams reality.
Precisely, that's how it should have been.
"...Huhuk!"
Seia gasped for breath and sat up in bed. The pajamas she was wearing were soaked in cold sweat, and her disheveled blonde hair disturbed her vision. She clutched her chest for a while longer, breathing roughly, then slowly turned her head to the side.
Outside the window had long since darkened. It was dawn. The waxing crescent moon glimpsed between the clouds lonely illuminated the starless night sky. A solitary moon (孤月). It truly was a moon that suited that word.
Staring blankly at the moon, her ragged breathing subsided somewhat. Seia took one final deep breath, then reached out and carefully grasped a cup of water. But her body, weakened to the point of extreme frailty, screamed in protest just from holding a single cup. Her slender arm trembled violently, and the water in the cup spilled out.
"...Euk."
She eventually lost her grip on the cup. The cup that collided with the floor didn't break, but rolled sideways, spilling all its contents. Seia gazed at that sight with pupils devoid of any light, then lay back down on the bed.
Although the season was nearing summer, for some reason, the days seemed to be getting colder. Seia shivered all over and pulled the blanket over her head. As familiar darkness arrived, the chill that had enveloped her entire body slightly disappeared.
Not that she became warm. Seia buried half her face in the pillow and stared blankly at the window.
'...Again.'
Again, she failed.
For what, for what purpose was all this effort? Shedding bloody tears, vomiting blood, enduring pain as if her head were splitting, becoming accustomed to this damned ability—for what purpose was all that? Wasn't it to confirm Kenji's location or safety through dreams and bring him back?
But then, just how many more failures must she endure to find him? She had already tried hundreds of times. She skipped meals minimally, ignored all classes except the necessary ones with her authority, and lived only immersed in dreams.
Still, she hadn't found a single trace of Kenji. All the dreams she had while thinking of him were only dreams of him being shot, and the more that happened, those nightmares only twisted to feel more like reality. Now, just closing her eyes brought the sensation of his fading breath, crumbling body, and thick scent of blood.
"...Agh."
Seia looked down at her hand at the sudden sharp pain. Her once-beautiful hand was sporadically stained red. It was because she occasionally lost her sanity and escaped reality after dreaming of Kenji dying. Seia glared at the bloodstained fruit knife on the table, then clenched her fist tightly. Dried blood scabs *fluttered* down onto the bed.
Transparent tears that flowed along with them wet her snow-white pillow. But Seia didn't close her eyes or sob. She just stayed still. Letting the tears flow as if broken. Because when her vision blurred, paradoxically, Kenji's face came to mind most clearly.
"Kenji."
Seia whispered his name softly and reached her hand forward. But the face that had clearly surfaced vanished like a mirage the moment her hand touched it. Then, *ah*, she let out a short sigh.
It was brief. Almost simultaneously with its disappearance, his face surfaced again. Seia, as if asking when she had been gloomy, smiled brightly and kissed that face. The tear-stained vision and the darkness brought by covering herself with the blanket became her only sanctuary.
"...Kenji."
A faint voice flowed from beneath the blanket she had pulled over herself. Moonlight seeped in from the half-open window.
The full moon floating in the cloudless night sky illuminated the ground along with the stars.
The moon in reality was not a waxing crescent.
"...Ken...ji."
She was still in the dream.
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