He stood there for a while in the shower of blood.
He is not innocent enough to feel something about killing a man.
In the first place, no other man taught me that 'if I don't kill, I will be disposed of'.
It just went around and fell on the men.
What did I say about this?
"Self-employment... did you deserve it?"
Not knowing why he had such knowledge, he snapped.
In the meantime, I want to bleed.
Apart from taking the chaser's life, I don't want to go back with him and stay in the bloodbath.
Throwing the man's remains into the appropriate bushes, he began walking in search of the small spring water he had found before reaching the cave.
"Are you okay until dawn...?"
The man said, "I'm alone."
Then we won't be searching right away just because the man hasn't been home for a while.
Nevertheless, it is not a good situation to be alarmed.
The distance from the pursuers is not far enough for that man to come alone.
You'd better watch as soon as you're asleep until dawn.
"Should we move quickly?"
When he reaches the spring where he remembers the place, he washes the blood off his body and clothes.
His body, which stood up to return to the cave after his throat was moist and pleasant, was lit by a moonlight that plunged into the trees.
The flowing spring water transforms the nearby depression into an instant pond, making it a precious water field for wild flowers and small animals.
There was a moon floating from the gap of the trees to the surface of the water shaking with small waves.
It was the face of a boy still young that jumped into his eyes as he casually peered into it.
Seeing it, he opens his eyes.
"Ah...."
A meaningless voice spilled.
My familiar face is dyed with surprise.
When he gently touches the tip of his nose with his own hand, the boy on the surface of the water also puts his hand on his nose.
Of course not.
His own face is undoubtedly visible on the water.
It was a shape-shaped face that was no different from those of the boys in the same room before he regained his ego.
"My... face"
He is puzzled by the fact that his faces were exactly the same as those of the boys.
"This is me...?"
The people in the room who thought they were living together.
Everyone wondered that he had the same face.
But he was objectively looking at it like any other HR person, and he was finally informed that he was not the exception here.
He was stunned by the fact.
"Ah, it was... me...?"
The water surface waves small due to newly flowing spring water.
The reflected moon and his face were shaken in the same way.
But even if the water didn't wave, his face would have shaken.
He was trembling without knowing.
After regaining his ego, he escaped according to his survival instinct.
And now I'm being attacked by questions that I can't solve.
"Who am I...?"
Even if your consciousness is clear, your memory remains vague.
Memories until I regained my ego are blurry and moody.
Killed many times, his body chopped up, destroyed as commanded, memories of killing emerge without any connection.
He himself doesn't know which of the first memories are.
All of them felt like they were memories, while all of them seemed to be memories of others.
A dream-like memory where the boundaries between you and someone who is not you are unclear.
I can't find the underlying memory anywhere.
Even though I regained my ego by taking in other boys, I have a vague sense of loss that I am losing something fundamental.
He saw himself in the water.
Lift up long forehair with one hand.
There was something written on my forehead.
Was it burned or was it engraved in some way?
He couldn't even see the signs of disappearing when he washed it, and for some reason he was convinced that it was a word for numbers.
Looking back, the boys also had letters engraved on their foreheads.
Even if he couldn't read it, he could see that the shape was different from one person to another.
Symbols engraved to distinguish the same figure.
That's all that stirs his heart up with unspeakable despair.
"Am I... not a person?"
He thought it was as if it were a manufactured tool.
At the same time, your presence seems to be something filthy, and your body is wrapped in discomfort.
My knee fell.
Ugh
As soon as I put my hands on it, my nausea irritates my stomach and refluxes my esophagus.
He forcibly swallows it and exhales a gruesome sweat.
The unpleasant acidity burned my throat.
"Hah... hah... hah..."
The back of my eyeballs became hot and dizzy.
"What am I...?!?"
No one could have answered, and his cry wiped out the sound of the spring.
He sat down by the spring for a long time.
He doesn't ask for answers about who he is, nor does he get to it with vague memories.
You feel like a monster you don't know, and you feel frightened and creepy.
He eventually stood up as if he had given up, and returned to the cave where the girl waited.
It must have been a long time since he got out of the cave.
The girl was already lying in the cave and breathing.
"Mother....."
A cry for salvation comes out of that little lip.
Something glowing on the edge of the closed eyelid was stinging.
Lowering his hips a little away from the girl, he snaps.
"Parents..."
He has no parents in his memory.
I know what a parent is.
I know, but it didn't exist in his memory.
childhood memories, family memories, hometown memories.
Knowing them as knowledge, they have completely disappeared from his own memory.
"From the beginning... don't you have it?"
That was a terrible idea.
But it is also an idea that falls strangely into my heart.
The first possible reason for the lack of memory of the past is the loss of memory.
Then I might be able to remember one day.
But he gets a strange conviction of 'no'.
That is because of the presence of the boys who lived in that room.
The mysterious fact that I have two looks other than the letters on my forehead, and I have no idea what kind of reasoning it is, but I was able to assimilate it.
Now that you've regained your ego and been able to think, you can see how absurd and unrealistic it is.
That's why we can understand ourselves as an unusual existence, and the idea that past memories are missing is not just memory loss.
"Engraving even numbers to identify individuals...."
Experimental animals that move as they are told and do not complain even if injured.
It's not a human, it's just a 'thing'.
"Well then... it's like a mass-produced doll using a mold frame"
I don't want to think that I'm just a thing.
But his memory and the number engraved on his forehead did not allow him to deny it.
I looked at the sleeping girl's forehead.
There are no numbers engraved on the forehead peeking from the gap between the beautifully arranged forehair.
I think she remembers her mother because she talks in her sleep.
There must be memories of childhood and home.
The girl was undoubtedly alone.
"In that case, I..."