In the dark, bloody silence, Lynn turned his head, and the same sorrowful smile seemed to return to his face all at once. As though holding on to some hope, he asked:
"Do you really think that? Do you really not see me as a monster? Are you really... not afraid of me?"
It was like a question asked of one's own heart.
And like an interrogation aimed straight at the depths of the soul.
With that hopeful tone, he gently put this fundamental question to her.
Her mouth opened listlessly as she stared at the shattered smile before her. It was almost like a mirror: beneath that twisted form, he was sorrowful, yet he pleaded with her for an answer like a child.
He kept trying to pretend he didn't care about anything, kept hiding those fears deep inside, yet longed so desperately for acceptance.
Just like...
Just like...
In an instant, an immense ache seemed to churn wildly in her heart, squeezing and squeezing until her eyes reddened.
But she still fought to suppress it, her enormous, misshapen body trembling helplessly.
Because she didn't know how to answer.
Yet she still wanted to say...
Something like the hopeful answer she had always longed to hear herself.
"I'm not afraid of you! It's not like I don't... don't know you. Why should I be afraid of you? No matter what you look like, you haven't actually become a bad person. I... why should I be afraid of you!"
She struggled to hold herself back, her voice almost breaking into sobs, but tears still spilled ceaselessly from her eyes.
"Why should I be afraid of you!"
Those words, almost a release born of total collapse, finally made her lose all restraint and cry out.
She burst into loud, uncontrollable sobs