[Kurokawa]: Change

(Behold! 3 illustrations in one chapter!)

One. Under no circumstances could C learn about the newfound sentience of the members in the discussion. The members were namely Kurokawa, Rachel, and Laura.

Two. Under no circumstances could C learn about our meeting. The condition included but was not limited to direct or indirect conversation, sign language, notes, emails, and other forms of information sharing.

Three. Each participant in the meeting had to keep the information about C's thoughts hidden from him. If he found out about his ability, the one who created the problem would have to follow the influence until the end or have their life taken away by the others. 

Four. When there was a new heroine, the participants in the meeting would work together to drive her or them away. Dead or alive. 

Those were what we discussed during our small talk yesterday. Everything was to protect C, keeping him from the truth and the existence of our fragile alliance. The first condition was self-explanatory. Laura, Rachel, and I will all have to work our best to...make C oblivious to his abilities. As A's sister and that crazy princess are coming to appear in the story, we will have to maintain our utmost concentration. I did not worry about any of us, but being cautious would help regardless.

Alas, there was a critical loophole in the conditions. Being the person who handled the details of those agreement terms, I could steer the other two toward something else. While focusing on C's inner voice, Rachel and Laura left out one critical aspect. 

And that was C's vision of his previous iterations. 

We never made any agreement about telling C his visions. 

*Woooooo*

A strong gust of wind ran through my hair, lifting my bangs high and blowing away droplets of tears lingering on both cheeks into the space between C and me. Even though I tried to hold it in place, my hand was trembling as I stood there with a face that looked like it had been hit by an electric shock—one that was not even caused by anything physical.

Alas, despite my actions, something told me to withdraw my hand. Deep inside my heart, a voice was heard. There was no need to cover my scar, it said. I should not be afraid anymore, it said. 

More importantly, I believed it. Although that voice said things I considered nothing more than blasphemy, I trusted it with everything in my body.

It was undoubtedly true that the time was not yet ripe enough to put everything behind me and move on, but at least this would mark the beginning of something else. After all, years of constant pain and suffering from my Mother's abuse could not be erased with a snap of a finger like that. 

Wounds might heal, but scars would remain for the rest of my life. Time could fade the physical injuries, yet the emotional aspect would forever live rent-free until resolved. I knew that. C knew it, too. The only thing for anyone in my situation to do would be to accept it. The same goes for me as well. 

It mattered not how much one could endure. I understand that now. The more I let myself be in harm's way, the more I justified the pain inflicted upon me by someone else. And the more I did so, the more I let myself be trampled. Those two things combined into a vicious cycle where I would never see a way out. A malicious amalgamation of constant belittlement.

In life, there ought to be things beyond one's control. It would be there whenever they closed their eyes at night. It would still be there whenever the season changed. Without fail, the mirror would show the truth of what the past had done ten out of ten times. No matter how much one wanted to escape, those reflections would exhibit the ugly realities they desperately wanted to draw their eyes somewhere else. 

But sadly, one would never be able to run away from it. What came was torment and suffering. Always. A person like me would live inside a hell created not by anyone else but by myself. A cage made out of my flesh and thoughts.

Perhaps to combat the nightmares, one could try their best to eliminate the source of their pain, hiding themselves from seeing this world forever. Destroying the reflections by hand, smearing blood everywhere, or gauging their eyeballs out both would work. Then again, would it subsidize?

The answer was a simple 'No'. 

Running away never worked. In fact, it only made things more destructive. Because once the demons returned, they would come in armies.

Why would something so mundane cause so much distress? 

After all this time, I learned one thing. And it was crucial to the settings of my characteristics. The pain felt within my chest whenever I looked at my reflections did not simply come from outside sources. That pain did not come from the mirrors nor the mouths of others only. Yes, my Mother said I was unsightly, and she felt embarrassed. But after everything was said and done, I accepted their words and did not fight back. 

The pain came from within the tattered heart, broken and exhausted. 

Until... he came to me. He Who Broke My Cycle. He Who Tried. 

He was also one who suffered the most. Yet strangely, even when his existence was more heartbreaking than mine, his pain, cries, and tears... were all devoted to us. 

...To me.

I saw how desperate he wanted to make things right for me. I saw how he became different, resorting to threats and malice despite his kind nature only to save one person. While that person could hardly save herself, C took the mantle of impossibility and put it on himself. 

Even when he knew I would not look at his side, C would still try his best. The number of trials he took to be able to gather information would be something unfathomable to me. This world mocked C for his futile attempts, but he still fought back. 

Of course, at one point, C stopped. I did not think of it as giving up. Sometimes, people needed to take a rest, that was all. With his selfless and kind personality, my protagonist would still pick what he did in the past at some point. That I was sure of. One hundred percent.

Then, if C believed in me that much, I thought I should give myself a chance. As a wife, my responsibility was to not become more of a burden on his frail back. Did I not want to become his support when I said my vows back then?

Thus, I wanted to change. That was the only thing I could do at this point.

Thanks to C, I could now set foot forward without being held back by fear; with my feet firmly planted on solid ground, I could start walking toward a different future with him by my side, a distant dream that I wished for but never had the nerve or the support to take the first step in this life.

From me,...

To myself,...

I offer My blessings. 

Perhaps the day I could look at reflections in mirrors and consider its appearance as beautiful was still distant. Maybe it would be tomorrow, maybe never. Regardless of that day, things would change from now on with me looking at my images of how it was, not how it was meant to be.

Due to reasons both within and outside of my control created by none other than the maker of this forsaken world, my body might have been flawed and strange. Personally, it might have been undesired and unsightly, but I understood that it belonged to me—my own self. 

There was no need to fight an enemy that never considered itself to be mine. It was innocent. My body was. 

There was no reason to resent myself if someone accepted me for who I was, someone who cared.

Someone who sacrificed.

Someone who I had once held dear in my hand saying precious vows. My husband, my destiny, my protagonist.

No more hiding, Kurokawa. No more making excuses. What was the point of that when he already knew? He had not given up on me even after all this time. I should practice to do the same thing. It would be hard and uncharacteristic. 

My hand was shaking more than before.

Try harder, the voice in my heart screamed. Show C what you can do!

Instead of doing what C was used to, let us show him a new scene. Let us surprise the protagonist of our broken story with an action and a dialogue that he wanted to see but never had a chance to. Rather than a Kurokawa with an inferior complex, let us present ourselves as a... recovering inferior-complex-Kurokawa. 

Let us create a happy ending. Together. As husband and wife.

Then, when we reach the end or reach a reset, we can do it again, and again, and again. C and I could spend an eternity indulging in each other's presence, never letting the other half go away. Us immortals had that kind of ability. In other words, till death do us part!

Thinking like that, a smile formed on my lips as I took a deep breath. Never had I ever craved for the future this much. I wanted to be together with C, wherever and whenever possible. I wanted him to be proud of me. I wanted him to pat my hair. I wanted him to put on the makeshift ring out of bandages.

And perhaps, when the time was right, I would give him a child consummated from our love. 

That day would surely come.

*Wooooooooooooo*

The wind blew. Stronger and more aggressive. My hair was lifted alongside a couple of small leaves, but I paid it no mind.

Closing my eyes softly and opening them, C's thin figure filled my vision entirely, waiting in a daze. No thoughts were escaping his heart. He did not have the correct answer to my sudden inquiry. 

Pft. This silly main character.

Thus, I smiled.

Slowly, the palm covering my forehead released, and I let the wind do what it was supposed to do. At this moment, I decided to face my disfigurement head-on.

Immediately, everything was blown open by the breeze. Hair, bangs, tears... and my red scar on the top. Everything. Even that never-ending pain that haunted my dreams every night seemed to be laid bare for him to see. 

It was not the Kurokawa this system created that C was looking at. 

It was the Kurokawa I chose to become. 

This...was...me.

"C..."

(Did you like the drawings? We worked hard on it!)