27, 753rd Ti
Scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch—
What’s that sound? It’s so quiet, like you could completely miss it if you didn’t listen carefully. But the sound is coming from within , and I absolutely shouldn’t ignore it.
Scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch.
It’s like soone’s using a tiny, tiny file, but what are they rasping away at? If the source of the sound is inside , it has to be sothing within my body.
Scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch.
The sound is so small, but it seems like the loudest noise in the world, and I plug my ears out of instinct. Not even that keeps the insistent scratching at bay, though. That makes sense—actually, blocking my ears would make it easier to hear since it’s inside . That’s why I can’t block the sound. I can’t escape hearing myself wearing away.
It hurts, too. Being filed down is definitely painful. This is what it would feel like if my heart turned into a porcupine fish. A constant prickling sensation. Is it guilt? I thought that would be the first thing to go, but it’s proving unexpectedly persistent.
Scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch.
I’m being whittled away.
My heart.
All of who I am.
I’m losing my shape, becoming a handful of sawdust. No, that isn’t right. I’m already…far beyond that point. I’m already nothing but dust.
After twenty thousand repetitions, I’m no longer who I used to be. I know that. Unable to bear the tedium, my heart has slipped away. I can’t communicate aningfully with others anymore.
This world is rejecting .
That’s to be expected. I never belonged here to begin with, and I forced my way in. The classroom where everyone else exists has rejected each ti.
The only thing I know for certain is how to make all of this better.
But I will never, under any circumstances, do that.
After all, my wish hasn’t been granted yet.
…Wait. I thought I was already nothing but dust. Why is my wish still here, untouched? Is that even possible? It should have been ground down along with my heart and everything else that I am because, to tell the truth—
—I can’t even rember what I actually wished for anymore.
“Ha-ha-ha.”
I can’t stop myself from laughing. That’s right. I can’t rember. Ha-ha-ha, I can’t rember. What did I wish for again? Hey, help rember. Ha-ha-ha, don’t play around with like this. Why did I torture myself by going through each repetition? All I can do is laugh. It’s all I can do, and yet I’ve even forgotten how. I’m just forcing the sounds through my expressionless face.
If this is how it’s going to be, then let’s just end it.
It’s the simplest conclusion. Why didn’t I think of that sooner?
I should just kill him. That’s right—I should just end his life. I should killKazuki Hoshino. He’s the source of all my suffering, after all. If it would put an end to the pain, I should just finish him off right now.
But sowhere deep within , I know: The fetter that was once my wish will never let any of this end for …
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