Chapter 3 – Memories
“Yo…A…e…Reed…yo.”
A familiar voice, slightly hoarse yet filled with nostalgia and warmth, reached my ears. Who could it be? It felt like someone very dear to me. But for some reason, I was terrified of remembering that person, consumed by fear.
I vividly recalled how deeply that person loved me. That person always wore a smile, eyes filled with tenderness, and embraced me with kindness. I cherished them immensely.
“Oh, do you remember the contents of this picture book? Amazing!”
That person praises always uplifted me. When That person smiled, even the person who usually had a scary expression would be brimming with joy. I adored the picture books That person read to me. Hearing That person gentle voice narrate the stories always brought solace to my heart.
One day, That person had an expression of pure happiness on That person face.
“Something amazing happened. You’re going to have a sibling. You’ll be a big brother from now on.”
“Me, a big brother?”
“Yes. You’ll be a big brother. So, make sure to protect the child who will be born.”
“Yes! I’ll protect them!”
That’s right… I made a promise to my mother to protect the new family member as an older brother. But what happened to that promise? After that, my little sister was born. She had the same hair color as my mother and the same eyes as me. When she grew up and played with me, both my mother and my stern father watched over us with gentle eyes.
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One day, my mother seemed different than usual. Worried, I called out to her.
“Mother? Are you okay…?”
“…Reed, thank you. I’m…fine…”
“Huh…?”
My mother smiled at me, and then she collapsed right there, causing a commotion throughout the house.
After that incident, my mother became bedridden. Yet, every time I visited her room, she would look at me with a smile and eyes full of love. However, her condition showed no signs of improvement.
Many people came to the house to examine my mother, but my father, upon hearing their conversations, always wore a sad and pained expression. Gradually, he started looking sorrowful whenever he saw me.
Whenever the topic of my mother arose, sadness engulfed the house, and I felt her condition wasn’t getting better. Would she die and never be able to talk to me again? Anxiety overwhelmed me.
…It was my mother who taught me about “death.”
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In the garden, when I caught a small butterfly that I found cute, I proudly showed it to my mother. She was delighted, but at the same time, she gently taught me.
“It’s very cute, the butterfly. Thank you. But let’s release it, okay?”
“Why? Even though it’s so cute?”
I couldn’t understand why I should let it go and tilted my head in confusion. She smiled and explained gently.
“Butterflies are living creatures too, just like us. They strive to live, just as we do. It would be cruel to catch them and confine them to a small cage, wouldn’t it? Besides, butterflies are delicate. If you put them in a cage, they will quickly die.”
“What does ‘die’ mean?”
I asked a question, and my mother appeared slightly troubled, but she soon smiled and spoke gently.
“Yes… ‘die’ means that a living creature loses its ‘life.’ Because it possesses ‘life,’ it can move and communicate. But once the ‘life’ is gone and it dies, it can no longer move or speak. The warmth of that person also disappears.”
“…If you lose your ‘life,’ mother, you’ll die and never be able to talk to me again…?”
I asked, troubled and frightened by her words. My mother smiled and reassured me gently.
“…Yes, that’s right. If you lose your ‘life,’ that’s what happens. But don’t worry. I’ll always be by your side.”
“Really? Promise!! It’s a promise!”
“Yes, I promise. So, let’s release the butterfly, okay? Every living creature has ‘life,’ and we must never take it away thoughtlessly.”
“Yes!”
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My mother made a promise to always be by my side. But now, I wonder if she will truly die like this. Will I never experience my mother’s smile, her words, and her warmth again? Each day, I visit my beloved mother, trying to alleviate my anxiety. However, all I see is her deteriorating state, inching closer to “death.”
My mother always wears a smile, concealing her weakness. Even though it must be difficult for her, she kindly reads picture books to me with a smile. Yet, as I glimpsed the profound sadness behind her expression, I understood. My mother cannot be saved; she will undoubtedly die in this way. The moment I comprehended this, I fled from her. My mother appeared surprised and said something to me, but I cannot recall. I desperately wanted to save her at any cost. But I realized there was nothing I could do, so I retreated to my room, crying and venting my anger. The people in the mansion must have thought I had lost my mind.
After causing a commotion, I crawled into bed, burying myself under the covers, and wept uncontrollably. Suddenly, I noticed someone entering the room, and I emerged from the covers, shouting, “Get out!” However, it was my sister. My words frightened her, but she anxiously inquired about our mother.
“Nii, what about mother…”
“…!! Don’t ask me about mother!!”
Her question angered me, and before I knew it, I unleashed verbal abuse and violence upon my sister. The butlers and maids intervened, restraining me as I cried out and raged. From that day on, my sister stopped visiting me, and I couldn’t bear to face our dying mother. I vented my anger on various objects and people.
Consequently, my father no longer regarded me with kind eyes. His gaze held disgust and pity.
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After some time had passed, one day, I had a dream.
My mother passed away, and my unruly behavior escalated. My father sought solace in work, attempting to forget my mother, and distanced himself from the family. My sister, burdened by our mother’s death and the effects of my and my father’s actions, fell into mental illness. She locked herself in her room, refusing to eat, and eventually died. Her gradual decline transformed her once-lovely face into an unrecognizable form. My father attended the funeral, yet his gaze toward me was filled with disgust. Perhaps he didn’t want to be reminded of our mother whenever he looked at me. Years later, I found myself seeking a place to die. In pursuit of my own wish, I became reckless and joined a faction, which ultimately led to my condemnation and demise.
In that moment, I woke up from my slumber. For some reason, I sensed that the dream I had witnessed was a glimpse into my future. Impatience overwhelmed me, and instinctively, I left the mansion.
I cursed my own powerlessness while simultaneously yearning for strength. I longed for the power to protect my mother, sister, father, and all those dear to me. I felt as if there was a dormant door deep within me. I didn’t know why, but with every fiber of my being, I focused on unlocking that “door.” And just as I believed the door was opening, “I” lost consciousness.
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“Um? Where am I?”
As I awoke, I found myself in my usual room. Was what I had seen just a dream?
But it felt far too vivid to be a mere dream.
“Huh…?”
I noticed tears streaming down my cheeks. Traces of tears stained my pillow. In that moment, I somehow grasped the true nature of the images and emotions that had unfolded in the dream. I placed my hand over my chest and softly murmured.
“…I suppose this dream must be Reed’s memories… Is that what you wanted to show me? You yearned to save your family with all your heart…”
It felt as if I were consoling someone deep within myself.
“Yes… that’s right. I promise. Because you are a part of me, I will find a way to make a difference…”
Whispering those words, I reassured someone within my inner presence.
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