The girl's parents thanked the doctor, then supported each other as they left the hospital.
The girl followed them this time.
I trailed behind the family of three. When they got on the bus, I boarded too.
At night, People's Celebration City wasn't lit up everywhere, but there were still plenty of lights to paint the cityscape.
The bus was crowded, with no empty seats.
The girl's parents held onto the handrails. The girl had been about to reach for one too, but when she saw her hand pass through the person beside her, she gave up.
The bus sped along, and the passengers swayed gently with it.
I wasn't affected. I was fixed in place inside the bus, completely motionless. I didn't even know when I'd gotten used to this state, or how I'd learned to control my body so freely.
The girl drifted through the bus, swaying gently with the other passengers as it moved and stopped.
She gazed out at the night scenery. Gradually, her body became as motionless as mine.
When the bus reached their stop, her parents got off and walked for more than ten minutes before entering a residential complex.
The girl and I followed them all the way into their home.
Her parents rested wearily, washed up, and got ready for bed, while the girl went into her own bedroom.
I stared in surprise as the girl opened the door, walked inside, and closed it behind her.
I turned to look. Her parents were both in their room and didn't seem to have heard anything.
I hurried through the door and instinctively looked up.
The light was on. There was no way the girl's parents had forgotten to turn it off.
The girl looked around her bedroom, running her hand over the desk