Volu 2, Chapter 12: The rmaid's Song
The evening of August 27th, Hajikano and I headed for the site of the Minagisa sumr festival. She wore a yukata she'd only worn once three years ago, and I wore a cheap jinbei I bought in the area. We walked down the dim rural roads, our clogs resounding under the voices of higurashi. Thanks to her deep blue yukata, Hajikano's white skin stood out more than ever.
The closer we got to the festival, the more we heard taiko drums rumbling the earth, the sound of flutes and sho, guiding voices on gaphones, and the stirring of people. There was a long line of cars outside the local elentary school designated for parking, and just ahead of there, we could see the community plaza.
Just as we were stepping in, a small firework went up to announce the start of the festival. Everyone around stopped at once and looked up to the sky, gazing at the white smoke left behind. Just after, the area was filled with applause.
In the center of the plaza was a scaffold, and strings of lanterns extended radially from the pillar. Stands were packed close together along the long sides of the plaza, one of the short sides served as an entrance, and the other short side had a giant stage set up. A few dozen or hundred people were already seated, and the head festival runner was up on stage giving a greeting.
I opened the program given to at the entrance and went over the plans for today. As expected, the reading of The rmaid of Agohama and the singing of the rmaid's Song were still there. They must have found a replacent. It was only natural, I guess. In the corner of the program was a photo of this year's Miss Minagisa. She was a pretty woman, certainly, but seed too lively to suit the part of the rmaid - of course, maybe I only thought that because I knew that role had been for Chigusa.
We bought usuyaki and yakisoba at the stands and went to the stage. There, we saw a children's iai performance, a middle school wind instrunt band, buyo and minyou dances by volunteers, and spinning tricks by a perforr. An hour went by in a blink. As a raffle started up, we left our seats, waded through the crowd, sat on a planter near the parking lot, and observed the hubbub of the festival from a distance.
As Miss Minagisa's reading was about to begin, I felt sothing cold on the back of my hand. I thought it was just my imagination, but seeing Hajikano look to the sky, I knew I hadn't been the only one to feel it. Less than a minute later, it began to rain. It wasn't intense, but it was enough to get you soaked if you weren't paying attention. Everyone took shelter in tents or the community center, or ran to the parking lot; the people on the plaza scattered at once. In no ti, a voice on a gaphone announced that the stage shows would be canceled.
Hajikano and I hid from the rain under the community center's overhang. The thin raindrops blurred the lights of lanterns and stands, dying the plaza a dark red. Girls running with carpets held above their heads, old people walking pitifully with umbrellas up, children running around without regard for the rain, rchants hastily putting away their stands - as I watched it absentmindedly, a voice suddenly hit my ears.
The rmaid's Song.
I didn't hear it from the stage, but from right beside .
I looked Hajikano in the eye. She smiled shyly and stopped singing. "The rain doesn't seem like it'll stop soon," she said to cover her embarrassnt.
"It's fine, keep going," I told her.
She nodded and resud singing.
Her voice soaked into the air filled with rain.
This was my third ti hearing her sing the rmaid's Song.
The second ti was a month ago, on the roof of the hotel.
The first ti was six years ago, at an abandoned shrine on a mountain.
*
It was back when I still called Hajikano "class president."
The sumr of 1988 was in one way my worst sumr, and in another way my best sumr. As I ntioned once before, that sumr I'd fallen victim to autonomic ataxia, and had chills so bad I had to stay under a down blanket in the middle of the day in July. The coldness got worse day by day, ultimately hindering my everyday life. Going to a university hospital that was a three-hour round trip even using buses and trains, I was examined, and it was judged to be a result of stress (which was obvious). The doctor said I needed periodic hospital visits and a long recuperation. And thus my sumr vacation started early.
It was unlike any sumr I knew. There was such a gap between what I saw and what I felt, everything seed sohow less real. Even though I'd been given a long break, I didn't have any will to go outside and play - for that matter, I couldn't even focus on reading inside. I feel like most of my ti was spent watching a video tape on repeat. I forget what the video was. I only rember it was so old foreign film.
Once exactly a week had passed since I stopped coming to school, as I was watching the TV in my room as usual, I heard a knock on the door. The knock had a strange amount of force, not too strong, not too weak, low-tempo and musical in a way that just barely kept itself consecutive. I'd never heard such a polite knock before. I was sure it wasn't my mother knocking.
"Who is it?", I asked them. The door slowly opened, and a girl with a cute white one-piece appeared. She shut the door without making a sound, then turned back to and bowed her head.
"The class president?" I sat up, forgetting the cold. "What are you here for?"
"Visiting." Hajikano smiled at , let down her backpack, and sat next to my futon. "And also, to bring the handouts you've been missing."
I hastily looked at the state of my room. I'd gotten out of the habit of cleaning since no friends had co into my room in months, so it was a ss. If I'd only known she was coming, I would have gotten it nice and neat, I lanted. Then I looked at myself and felt even gloomier. Hajikano was dressed so sharply, she could walk right into her graduation, but I looked pathetic, wearing an unmatching jacket over creased pajamas.
I dove back under the covers to escape her gaze.
"Did a teacher ask you?"
"No, I proposed it myself. Since I was curious how you were doing, Yosuke."
She took a clear file out of her backpack, neatly took out the folded B3-size papers, checked what was printed on them, and put them on my desk. Then she sat next to again, and looked at as if to say "now then." Here co the questions, I thought. Why do you keep not coming to school? Why are you wrapped in a down blanket when it's sumr? What kind of sickness is it? Why did you catch it?
But contrary to my expectations, Hajikano didn't ask anything. She took out a notebook with her na and class written on the front, opened it where I could see, and started going over the relatively high-importance information from the past week's lessons.
What was the aning of this?, I wondered, but I obediently listened to her. Within minutes, I was deeply engrossed in what she was saying. New knowledge being told to from a live human mouth. That was the sort of stimulation I needed most after spending entire days in my room.
Once she was done, Hajikano put her notebook in her backpack, said "I'll co again," and left. As soon as she was gone, my mom ca into the room without knocking.
"Well, isn't that nice of her to visit. You should cherish friends like that," she said with pleasure.
"She's not a friend," I sighed. "She's the class president, so she's nice to everyone."
I wasn't just saying that to cover up my embarrassnt like boys my age often would. The relationship between Hajikano and back then simply wasn't such that you could call us "friends." As of moving up to fourth grade, her seat was closer, so we talked more, but that was it; it was limited to the classroom, and ever since we changed seats at the start of June, we didn't talk much at all.
I was honestly happy about Hajikano coming to visit when I was sick, and deeply grateful for her going over the lessons I'd missed, but thinking that she probably did it out of sympathy depressed . Because really, she was "the class president" who "had to be nice" to "a poor classmate." Surely she only saw as a weakling to pity.
The next day, and the day after, Hajikano knocked at about the sa ti. And she thoroughly went over the lessons for the day. I thought her good will to do so could be largely interpreted as just fulfilling her duties as a class president. But as she paid frequent visits to my room to do everything she could for , there was certainly a part of that couldn't help being captivated. If it weren't for my belief that her kindness only ca from pity, I think I would have been totally smitten in a few days.
At the ti, I had a self-awareness of my love that could easily be called bizarre for a fourth-grader. If it were a month or two earlier, I would probably have a vague choking feeling, but not be able to figure out what it was. But since starting to think of my birthmark as ugly, my personality beca extrely introspective. When I had ti, I would ntally go over all these things I had just sort of accepted before, examine them, give them proper nas, and put them back where they were. Love was one thing I found through this re-examining process.
Every ti Hajikano finished going over the day's lessons and left, I felt a terribly miserable feeling. The big problem was, just as she expected to happen, I was very much soothed by her. Even though she was only being nice to out of pity, my heart legitimately trembled at her smile and her slightest actions, and I couldn't be more miserable about that. Wanting her to think of as soone who understood things quickly, I secretly did lesson prep with the textbook, and I excitedly cleaned my room around the ti school got out - and I was so embarrassed with myself for doing it. I decided to take as blunt an attitude as I could with Hajikano, to at least counter it sowhat. So it wouldn't feel lonely when she eventually stopped coming.
Please, don't show any weird dreams, I thought. I can't have it anyway, so don't let it into my sight. Stop toying with people with the pretense of being conscientious. But Hajikano didn't know about those thoughts, so she innocently held my hand and smiled "your hand's nice and cold, Yosuke," and lied down next to to give detailed explanations of diagrams in her notebook. And so my chills got steadily worse.
July 13th was dedicated to a school-wide cleanup of the whole campus. All day, I could hear kids making a clamor outside. There didn't seem to be any classes that day, so I figured Hajikano wouldn't co teach anything. But at 4 PM, I started to get fidgety, then the doorbell rang as usual, and there was a knock on my door.
That day, Hajikano wore cut-and-sew clothes of white fabric and a calm light green skirt. The uniform for the cleanup day was gym clothes, so maybe she went back ho to change her dirty clothes, I thought.
"What is it?", I asked. "There weren't any classes today, were there?"
"Nope. But I'm here." Hajikano smirked mischievously.
"For what?"
"Just visiting."
Hajikano sat by my bedside like usual, smiling at my face without doing anything in particular. I couldn't stand it and flipped over in bed.
"You don't have to co on a day like this, do you?"
"I guess it's beco a habit. And I'm worried for you, Yosuke."
I believe I was very happy to hear those words. And thus I chastised myself for getting elated, and blurted out sothing thorny.
I turned back around and said to Hajikano:
"Liar. You just like yourself for being nice to ."
I thought she'd bluntly deny it.
I thought she wouldn't even pay it any mind.
I thought she'd laugh it off. "Yosuke, you dummy."
But Hajikano didn't say anything.
She tightly pursed her lips and stared into my eyes. She had an expression like a long needle was being slowly pushed into her.
After a few seconds, Hajikano ca to her senses and blinked, then tried to smile. But it was certainly an awkward one.
With an expression hard to pin down the emotion of, she mumbled.
"...That one really hurt."
She slowly stood up, turned her back to , and left the room without a goodbye.
Initially, I hardly felt any sort of guilt. I even felt proud for hitting upon Hajikano's sore spot and getting her to run. But as ti passed, the haziness in my chest grew thicker. It gradually covered the entire room, tornting my heart inside and out.
Had I perhaps been making a terrible mistake?
If Hajikano really were using for the sake of self-satisfaction, then no matter what I said, she could easily ignore it or refute it. Hypocrites generally establish a way to retaliate when their good will is questioned. They're well aware of how to act to seem saintly, and keep on hiding their true intentions. That's how it goes. Especially if it's soone smart.
But Hajikano seed hurt by calling her out on it.
Was that proof that she saw as an equal?
Did she feel betrayed because she wasn't showing sympathy as a hypocrite, but from her heart?
If that were the case, then I'd done a terrible thing to Hajikano, who was doing so much for .
I kept worrying all evening in my futon.
...I need to apologize to her.
My heart beca set on that as of the next morning.
I felt like I couldn't convey my feelings well over the phone. When the noon bell rang, I got a duffel coat from my bureau and put it on over a thick sweater. My whole body slled of bug spray. In the coat pocket were tissues and candy from last winter.
It had been a while since I went outside by myself. In fact, leaving out the "by myself," it had been a week. Being in a gloomy room for so long, the sky's blue and the trees' green, the sun's brightness and the sll of grass, the cicadas' buzz and the birds' chirping - it all felt more intense than I rembered it. Was the world always such a stimulating place?, I thought at a loss. I pulled my coat together as if to protect myself, put my hood all the way up, and took my first step on the path to school.
I purposefully chose a weird ti to leave the house so I could avoid being seen as much as possible. My aim was spot on; I didn't see a single grade schooler on the road to school besides . I prayed I could get to school without seeing anybody.
I passed a number of adults, and they looked at dubiously, but luckily I made it to school without eting anyone my age. I looked up at the clock tower; it was just about lunch ti.
The school seed a little more formal than usual after not being there in a while. I put my head down and quickly walked to my classroom. I looked through the open door, but didn't see Hajikano inside. I reluctantly went inside and asked so girls talking in the corner where she was. While they were suspicious of my getup, they told Hajikano was absent today because she wasn't feeling well.
Disappointed, I left the classroom. Just then, I finally noticed the existence of a few dozen photos put up on the bulletin board in the hall. I had my head lowered the first ti, so I didn't see them at all.
The first one I looked at was a photo of Hajikano. It was an extrely well-taken photo, so I stopped and stared at it for a while.
The photos seed to be from a race, a class event in May. Each one was numbered, and you could write the number of the photo you wanted on an envelope to buy it. If I had to guess, it was probably targeted toward parents who ca for teacher conferences.
I searched for photos with Hajikano, looking at them in order. The photographer was probably trying to get as many students as possible without bias, but Hajikano clearly showed up more often than any others. Photographers unconsciously choose subjects that make a good picture, after all. I always think that when I watch TV, too. For instance, photos of a school are taken in a priority hierachy, starting with "a particularly child-like child," followed by "a pretty girl," then "a serious kid about to respond to a question." And subjects that are likely to cause viewers discomfort are cleverly pushed out of fra.
While looking to see if there were any pictures that showed Hajikano closer-up, I unintentionally found a photo containing myself. It was a complete sneak attack. I wasn't prepared, expecting there to be not a single one.
Thinking about it now, it was a miracle photo, taken by coincidence. Not in the sense that the photo ca out well, of course. I an it was a miraculously awful photo. It was like a repulsive deep-sea creature.
No matter how pretty the people, sotis you get photos like this. Especially when snapping in the middle of quick face movent; no one beautiful is perfectly beautiful at all possible monts. Sotis you get photos that look like you're ten or twenty years older, or gained 20 or 40 pounds. As for , having the devastating feature that was my birthmark, that took full effect to make the worst possible photo. Normally the photographer should have taken out such a photo, but maybe it slipped in by mistake.
Young girls can foolishly base their self-image upon a miraculously well-taken photo. My self-image instantly changed based on this miraculously awful photo.
Ahh, so this is how my face looks to others.
I looked at the photos of Hajikano, then back at the photo of . And I asked myself. Do you think you two fit each other? Do you think you're in any equal position to talk with her? Do you think you have the right to love her? The answer to all of those was, "I don't."
My legs shook like the ground had shifted under . I managed to stop myself from falling, but a stronger chill than I'd ever felt before struck my body. I shivered all over, and had trouble breathing.
I ran ho with my tail between my legs, curled up in my futon, and waited for the shaking to stop. My heart felt like it was beaten to the ground; it seed I was made as weak as I could possibly be. Finally the chills receded, and I crawled out, got so water from the dim kitchen, and went straight back to the futon.
How long would I have to live like this?, I thought, face buried in my pillow. Even if these chills went away, the fundantal problem of my birthmark wouldn't. It wouldn't change that I'd have to keep hiding from people's sight.
Please, soone, get rid of this birthmark, I prayed. But I didn't know what I was praying to. If they could grant this wish, I didn't care if they were a god, a witch, a rmaid, whatever.
This was when I rembered the abandoned shrine.
It was so idle gossip I talked about with one of my classmates one day. A little abandoned shrine at the top of a small mountain on the outskirts of town. If you went there at night and made a wish right at midnight, the god of the shrine would appear and grant your wish - a ridiculous rumor. It had co from seemingly nowhere, but the sa claim was made even by students from other schools. A few young teachers had heard of it when they were kids, too. So the rumor of the abandoned shrine always caught the interest of Minagisa children as a ridiculous but not-fully-deniable mystery.
That said, for a fourth-grader to earnestly believe in a fantasy story about an abandoned shrine's god granting your wish... it was difficult to imagine. But my vision being constricted by a long ti indoors, and my head fogged up from my illness, and having just been knocked into the depths of despair to boot, I was in the mood to grasp at straws. So that gossip echoed like a revelation to .
I thought about that rumor for a while from under my futon. After about an hour, I sat up, put my wallet in my coat pocket, and left the house. The ti was about 4 PM.
I needed to use the bus to get to the shrine. Luckily, I knew which stop to get on at. I rembered, while taking the bus to the hospital in the town over with my mom, passing by the mountain which the shrine was on.
Twenty minutes after arriving at the bus stop, the bus ca. There was only a single old couple on board. Once they got off two stops later, I was the only passenger left.
While waiting to arrive at my destination, I sat at the edge of the far back seat, looking at the monotone fields going by. The road seed in poor shape, as the bus frequently jolted unpleasantly. The driver muttered in a voice so quiet I couldn't hear it. It hadn't been thirty minutes since I got on the bus, but it felt like two, even three hours. Sotis, when I saw unfamiliar houses, I got worried that I'd taken the wrong bus. Once I saw the mountain with the shrine, I was relieved and pushed the disembark button.
As I put my ticket and the fare in the box, the driver looked at dubiously.
"You alone, kid?"
I tried to respond casually. "Yes. Actually, my granny should be here at the bus stop to pick up..." I glanced toward the stop and purposefully sighed. "It seems like she isn't here yet. Maybe she forgot?"
"You gonna be okay on your own?", the driver, who looked around fifty, asked with concern.
"It's fine. Granny's house is close to here."
The driver nodded understandingly. "Alright. Take care."
Once the bus left, I pulled my coat hood over my eyes and began walking toward the shrine. I soon found the signboard marking the entrance to the mountain. According to the sign, its elevation was only about 300 ters.
Starting to climb the mountain, the paved road quickly ended, and there was just a gravel road so thin that one person could just barely squeeze through. The branches of the trees along the path stuck out everywhere, making it hard to walk, and so fallen trees blocked the path. On the fallen trees grew mold and unfamiliar reddish-green mushrooms, so I was careful not to touch them as I climbed over.
Finally, as I made it up to about the middle point, rain began to fall with no prior indication. The tree leaves served as umbrellas, so despite the sound, not many drops fell. But as the rain grew stronger, it poured down on alongside all the rain that had been kept up in the leaves beforehand.
After coming so far, I was reluctant to admit that it would be best to turn back there, so I ran up the mountain. But the path was much, much longer than I anticipated. At the ti, I mistakenly thought that paths up mountains were a straight shot from the base to the summit. By the ti I reached the torii at the shrine entrance, my lton duffel coat was twice as heavy from all the rainwater it soaked up.
I pried open a poorly-fit door with both hands and escaped into the shrine's main building. As soon as I sat on the floor and relaxed, I got an intense chill. I stripped off my drenched coat, leaned on the wall, and shivered holding my knees. It would be impossible to wait until midnight in this condition. But going down the mountain and waiting at the bus stop for the next bus was about as suicidal.
Mixed with the sound of raindrops on the roof, I heard water dripping here and there inside the building as well. There seed to be so leaks. The water dripping through the ceiling gradually covered the floor, sapping my body heat. The frigid floor and my helplessness worsened my shaking. My teeth chattered, my limbs were numb to the core, and I felt like I would freeze to death, in July no less.
I shouldn't have co to this place, I regretted. But it was too late. I hadn't told anyone where I was going. No help would co for . The bus driver probably thought I was at my grandma's house, having a nice friendly dinner. How nice it would be if that were true.
Probably about three or four hours passed. I realized the sound of the rain had lessened. I heard the sound of drips falling from one leaf onto another like a reverberation, but perhaps the rain itself had stopped. It was pitch dark inside the building, and I couldn't even see my own hands.
My stamina was at rock bottom. I felt like I couldn't take another step. My senses were faint, and I could hardly rember who I was or why I was here. The only certain things were the chills and my trembling body.
I heard a knock on the door. It was a familiar knock, but I couldn't consciously rember when and where I'd heard it. After a little bit, the sliding door opened, and my vision was filled with light. I was this close to being afraid, but when I saw it was soone coming in with a flashlight, my body went limp with relief.
"So you were here."
It was a girl's voice. That voice, too, seed familiar. I looked up and tried to identify her, but the flashlight she was shining on was too bright, I couldn't keep my eyes open.
She closed her umbrella and shook off the water, walked over to , stooped over, and pointed the flashlight at the floor. Then finally, I could see the face of the person who ca to get .
"Yosuke," Hajikano said. "It's ."
I rubbed my eyes. Why was Hajikano here? How did she know I was here? No, why was she looking for in the first place? Hadn't she not co to school because she was sick? Did she climb the mountain alone? In the middle of the night?
I didn't even have the vitality left to ask those questions. Seeing how weak I was, Hajikano put a hand on my shoulder and said "Wait here, I'll call for help," then went to leave with the umbrella and flashlight.
I reflexively went after Hajikano and grabbed her hand. Stopping her, I strained my voice with teeth chattering.
"It's cold."
Hajikano turned around and looked at my hand, then briefly hesitated. Should she let go and call for help, or stay here with for now?
Ultimately, she chose the latter. Putting down the umbrella and flashlight, she grabbed my hand back and squatted down. Relieved that she decided to stay, I fell on my bottom.
"You're cold?", she asked to confirm.
I nodded, and she put her arms around my back and brought her body close.
"Stay still." She patted my back affectionately. "You'll warm up slowly."
Initially, her soaking wet body felt very cold. Stop it, I thought, you'll just make even colder. But soon, that coldness numbed a little bit at a ti. And I began to feel heat from within her skin. My coldly stiffened muscles loosened up from the heat, and my various lost bodily functions gradually resud. My body, cold to the core, regained a normal human-like temperature over a long ti.
"It's okay," Hajikano kept repeating while warming up. "It'll be okay."
Every ti she spoke, I felt strongly encouraged. If she said it would be okay, it probably would be, I thought with all honesty.
I wonder how long it went on for.
Suddenly, I realized my body's senses had returned to normal. I felt the normal temperature of a July night. My skin was a little cold because of my wet clothes, but that was it.
Seeming to notice my shaking had cald down, Hajikano asked, "Are you still cold?"
I wasn't cold anymore. I was sweating, even. Yet I replied, "Just a little." I wanted to feel her warmth for a little longer.
"Ah... I hope you warm up soon."
Whether she saw through my lie or not, Hajikano stroked my face.
After being ward up to the core, I softly released my arms from her.
"Class president," I said.
"What?"
"Sorry."
With that one word, she guessed what I was trying to say.
"Don't worry about it," she said happily. "I an, to tell the truth, it is kind of on my mind still. You really injured , Yosuke. That's for sure. But I'll forgive you."
"...Thanks."
Hajikano ruffled my head with her hands.
"Hey, Yosuke. I visited you every day because I wanted you to co back to school."
"Why?"
"Why do you think?" She bent her head and smiled. "Um, Yosuke, you might not realize, but I like talking with you. I like just listening to you talk, and I like you just listening to talk. I also like it when you're there and we don't say anything. And when you go, I'm really lonely."
She stopped there and took a breath, then drooped her head and spoke weakly.
"So don't disappear on . ...I was worried, you know?"
"Sorry."
It took all I had just to say that.
We went outside, but it was just as dark as inside. The rain had completely stopped, the clouds cleared, and the moon was out, but it seed like it'd be difficult to walk down the mountain right now. Even if we did go down, the bus wouldn't co until tomorrow morning. Ultimately, we stayed the night at the abandoned shrine.
I still rember it clearly even now. The many nas of stars Hajikano taught , sitting and pointing at the night sky. I didn't understand half of what she was explaining at the ti, but every ti she spoke one of the nas, which felt almost like magic incantations, my body was filled with a strange energy.
"Co to think of it, didn't you take the day off school since you were sick?", I asked. "Are you feeling okay?"
"It's fine. I was lying about not feeling well. Really, I was just sad about what you said."
"My bad. I apologize."
"I forgive you." Her eyes narrowed in a smile. "...Anyway, I was lazing around at ho, when your parents called asking if their son was staying over at my house. So I knew you had left the house to go sowhere."
"But how did you know I was here?"
"Do you rember when we were talking back in spring, and I ntioned this shrine once?"
I instinctively clapped my hands together. "Oh, yeah..."
"I thought you didn't like such unrealistic stories, so I was surprised when you got interested in the rumor about the shrine. That left an impression on . When I heard you were gone, I suddenly rembered that, and thought, maybe..."
"What would you have done if I wasn't here?"
"Wait until midnight and wish, "I hope Yosuke will be okay.""
Once out of things to say, Hajikano stood up and whistled a song. A lancholic, but sohow nostalgic lody. The rmaid's Song. I had never witnessed her singing it by herself before, so I was at a loss for words from the sheer beauty of her singing. Her voice reminded of clear, cold water in the bottom of a well. Once she was done, I applauded, and she laughed.
After that, we stared at the night sky for a long ti without saying a word. "Let's go back inside," Hajikano eventually said. We went in, lied down on the floor, traded so aningless words, and the flashlight which she'd left on gradually grew weaker. Soon, the battery ran out, and the room was pitch black. We grabbed each other's hands, neither of us necessarily being first, and waited for morning to co.
With this day, my world took on a whole new aning. A world made up of "" and "everything else" beca a world of "," "Hajikano," and "everything else." And Hajikano alone gave proof that this world was a place worth living in.
People may laugh it off as sothing akin to imprinting. Like a newborn bird thinking the first thing it sees is its mother. From an outside perspective, it may be I was a fool forever imprisoned in childhood mories. But I didn't care what anyone said. I would probably be a happy slave to these mories until the day I died.
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