"Doctor, people are unfair most of the time," the man said, lying on the examination couch while the psychiatrist wrote in his notebook."They tell you not to judge a book by its cover, yet they always do exactly that."
The doctor paused briefly, then continued writing.
"They say appearance doesn't matter," the man continued, exhaling slowly. "But in the end, it does. Isn't that hypocrisy?"
The doctor finally looked up.
"And those are the kind of people I hate the most."
He closed the notebook and rested it on a nearby shelf.
"Gabriel… this is how people are," the doctor said calmly. "You need to understand and accept that. This is reality."
"I know," Gabriel replied quietly. "It's just… because they're like that, I ended up feeling out of place. Strange. Alone."
He turned his face toward the window, where faint light struggled against the night.
"I still dream about her smile," he let out a dry laugh. "But maybe it was because of who I am that I pushed her away."
The doctor sighed.
"You're being consumed by your own thoughts… by darkness," he said. "You need to listen to your heart more. Give it space, even if only a little. Light still exists."
Outside, streetlights and passing cars glowed faintly, yet darkness dominated everything.
"If this continues," the doctor added, "you'll be completely consumed. And being consumed by darkness means losing yourself."
Gabriel clenched his teeth.
"I'll find a solution," the doctor said firmly.
'A solution? You just want my money,' Gabriel thought.
"I hope you do," Gabriel replied with a forced smile. "Thank you, doctor."
Later that evening, Gabriel waited at a bus stop when a familiar voice called out.
"Gabriel?"
He turned and saw a man with brown hair and casual clothes, a small child beside him.
"Bruno?" Gabriel asked, surprised.
"It's been a long time! You've changed," Bruno laughed, ruffling his own hair. "This is my son—Ruan."
Gabriel smiled politely, but when Bruno mentioned his wife's name, his expression froze.
"Elisa."
The bus arrived.
"I'll call you sometime," Bruno said cheerfully before leaving.
Gabriel boarded the empty bus and sat in the back, staring at the ceiling.
'My life is miserable,' he thought.
His anxiety tightened around his chest as the bus suddenly stopped.
'I didn't even notice time passing…'
That night, alone in his dark apartment, the thoughts returned stronger than ever.
'I've lived my entire life on autopilot.'
He buried his face in his hands.
'Just endure a little longer. Just a few more days.'
Days passed.Routine repeated.
Until one morning, sitting near his workplace, Gabriel noticed a blonde girl with cyan-dyed strands in her hair.
'She's beautiful,' he thought. 'Just like always.'
But something in her expression made his heart ache.
When she finally approached him, her words struck deeper than any insult.
"Why do you keep watching us every day?"
By the end of their conversation, Gabriel realized something painful—
His own daughter didn't recognize him.
Yet that brief talk, that simple advice he gave her, felt like the first time he had truly acted as a father.
'Even if she never knows,' he thought. 'That's enough.'
That night, during his final therapy session, Gabriel spoke without holding anything back.
"I'm a terrible person," he said, tears falling freely. "A bad father. A bad son. A bad human being."
The doctor listened in silence.
"You're still young," he said at last. "You can still change."
Gabriel smiled gently.
Then he left.
Music filled his ears as city lights blurred around him. Memories surfaced. Faces. Regrets.
'Freedom…'
The wind brushed against him.
And then—
Darkness.
Silence.
A distant warmth touched his hand.
"Look, Poul… our boy opened his eyes."
Voices echoed.
Light pierced the void.
'Did I… reincarnate?'