The woman's tears continued to flow down her face.
"Please…please just…" Her voice was cut short by her own powerlessness to express herself through her sore throat.
Gazing into the distance, he slowly shifted his head and looked at her eyes.
"Let out?" His voice devoid of color. "I'm struggling to understand what that means."
She looked back at him, her vision blurred by tears.
"Th-that…" Sniff, "That…just… It's so sad it breaks my heart." Sniff. She sobbed, her voice weak from the overwhelming sorrow in her soul.
He gazed at her with his half-closed eyes, focusing on a small reflection in one of her eyes.
"I'm not you. Something like this won't make me sad. I don't know what being sad even means."
Pausing briefly, he continued.
"Why would I cry? It's just wasted energy."
His cold words grazed her ears.
Tears poured; she could barely see a thing. Her face was so reflective that it looked like she had come straight out of a pool.
She put her right hand on her left chest, twisting her hand as she hunched her back so that her face almost touched the top side of the table. There was a painful expression on her face she hadn't shown before. She looked down, her eyes covered by her eyelashes. Tears fell and disappeared behind the table as it landed on her lap.
Why was she in pain? She shouldn't feel bad. It was his problem, and yet he let someone else suffer because of him. The one thing he swore to protect. The only rule he never should've violated. He broke that.
His hand moved forward without a second thought.
He stood up, walking to the other side. One of his arms lightly rested on her left shoulder.
"…Huh?"
She felt a weight on her shoulder. Light and somewhat warm.
She wiped her tears and opened her eyes.
Her head raised.
Before her, he stood. Arm stretched, meeting her shoulder.
"Wha…?"
She didn't understand. 'Why is he here, holding out his hand to me?' she must have thought.
Before she could ask that, though, he had already begun.
"It's ok to feel what you feel; I'm not judging you," he said, his tone still flat, though he tried to squeeze some emotion out.
In the end, nothing happened.
He continued. "But there's no reason to feel down for me. Believe when I say this: I don't feel sorrow. I don't feel sad. I can't feel those. To be honest, I can't feel much of anything."
He finally said it. Some feelings—or the lack thereof—now were partially in the hands of the woman.
She held them tightly.
Her eyes still filled with sorrow and tears, she opened her mouth.
"But…but don't you feel the pain in what you just said? I-It breaks my heart just from hearing it. I can't even imagine what it's like to live with that."
"Live with what?" he asked, his hand still resting on her shoulder.
"This!" she snapped, jumping up.
The chair almost knocked over, creating a sharp sound that cut through the entire space.
"I can't feel anything from you! Even now, you're still holding everything inside, trying to keep things under control with that stupid flat voice!"
His face didn't budge. He heard every word she spoke, but it didn't move a thing in him.
"That's normal," he said, his flat tone like ice to her fire. "I had to realize that eventually everyone goes through some transformation. Most will end up as I did. There's nothing to be upset abou—"
His monotone voice was cut short.
The woman had her hands wrapped around his body, clasping him at the center of his spine. Small bumps poked her hands even through the thick black hoodie he was wearing. Her tears fell on him, darkening it as the dark cotton absorbed them all.
He stood there, motionless. His face like a doll's. His heart like a frozen cliff. Hands hung as the woman squeezed them from the waist up.
That feeling… What was that?
From somewhere, he knew that feeling. That warmth. A distant memory from a distant person. What was that warmth?
Something was there, but he couldn't access it.
No…
That's not true. He could see what it was.
That small picture levitating inside him. That greenery, the blue sky with the sun shining brightly, people in the middle hugging each other with joy in their eyes. He could see them all.
He gazed at her, staring into the distance as her face blurred before him.
His thick brown eyebrows dropped, covering the upper part of his eyes. Two-thirds of his colorful irises disappeared behind his eyelids as his right hand raised, pulling it out from under her arm. Motion steady and gentle. He raised his hand further. His hand around the height of her chin.
He stopped.
He kept his hand there for three seconds before moving it up to her forehead. His fingers spread out as they met the top of her head. Her silky-smooth chestnut hair met his lean palm. The feeling of the softness of her long hair ran through his hand up to his shoulders until it reached his chest.
He stroked her straight hair with his thin hand, like someone petting a fluffy puppy.
"…"
The woman didn't say a word. Her tears stopped flowing.
She looked up, only her eyes moving.
Above her, his hands slowly moved back and then forth, leaving her vision, then coming back.
She shifted her head and glanced at his eyes.
They were almost shut; only a flicker of whiteness was still there; eyebrows tightly wrapped the upper part of them, intertwining with his eyelashes; mouth curled down slightly, maintaining an expressionless surface; skin pale, almost white.
She furrowed her brow.
"why are you doing this…?" Her voice quiet.
He blinked once, his eyelids slowly moving down and then up.
His hand stopped caressing her hair.
"Why… ?" he repeated.
The question wasn't directed at her, but someone else.
He paused, then said:
"I don't know. I felt it was the right thing to do."
She stared deeply into his eyes:
No glow; color faded; irises looked more brown than green.
"W-wasn't there something that moved in you? Something that made you act like that!" she cried out.
He glanced back, watching the tiny spark in her eye.
"No," he said calmly. "There was nothing there. No movement. No change. Nothing at all."
He wasted no time saying what was on his mind. His delivery was precise and on point. Not a hint of emotion seeped out. It was cold and deliberate, like a machine exchanging information with a human being.
"No!" she shouted. "You-you liar… I…I know you aren't telling me the truth."
"I'm—"
"No, no, no! You're not!" she screamed, her words caught in her throat.
Before she continued, she paused, catching her breath as she narrowed her eyes.
"I know you don't…"
She quieted, her voice gradually becoming less audible.
Her eyes closed, she laid her right ear on the left side of his chest.
duum… duum… duum…
Heartbeats echoed.
Listening to the beating of his heart made her chest tighten. Her hands became more tense as they grabbed onto his hoodie from behind. She forced her grip and pulled his hoodie, her fist devouring the black cotton. Her brows furrowed. Tendons on her neck poked her skin.
"How… How can this be…?"
He just stood there, unable to react to what was happening around him. Her hand wrapped around, warming him from the outside. His face didn't move, nor did his body. Moments later, however, his legs leaped to the side. He was beginning to move away from her, making slight gestures to escape her embrace. Her hands got separated as he pulled away from her.
In a flash, her eyes opened.
Straightening her arm, she reached out.
"No! I won't let you leave," she shouted, closing the distance on him as she grabbed his hoodie by the shoulder and pulled him back.
"I can't let you go! Who will take care of you if not me!?"
Her voice rang in his ears.
Even moments later, they refused to settle. It echoed, haunting him ever since.
His body came to a halt, no longer yielding under the woman's force. She tried to pull him, but her arms couldn't make him budge. Her entire strength was invested in making the slightest movement in him, but it was futile.
"Ugh, why…hugh… Why can't I make him move?"
Turning around, he raised one of his arms.
"Isn't it obvious?"
"…Huh?" she let out a small, unintentional sound.
He grabbed her by the wrist with his lean hand.
"I'm a man after all," he said, his voice cutting through the atmosphere.