Ch.102Chapter 13. Superiority (9)

I don’t have much to say about this. It’s true that I’ve been taking Cassandra’s side until now.

“Cassandra? Cassandra, you say? You know why that woman can’t gain anyone’s trust, why everyone says ‘no one listens to Cassandra’ and all that?

With the way she talks and acts, wouldn’t it be stranger to believe her? What exactly do you see in that woman that makes you trust her so much?”

It’s not so much that she has a wealth of knowledge… but rather that everything Cassandra says eventually comes true in the future.

And I know that’s how things will turn out. But would Camilla accept this explanation?

“She’s sincere about the treatment.”

“…Right.”

Camilla gripped her wine glass. I gently placed my fingers on her wrist, but she brushed my hand away again. Gulp, gulp—she emptied her glass at a noticeably slower pace than before.

“Stop drinking.”

“Give me more.”

“I said stop drinking.”

“Hey.”

Camilla is crying. Her face is contorting with emotion.

“…You’re drinking with me right now, aren’t you?”

“That’s right.”

“Then, can’t you take my side just for now? Is that so difficult?”

Instead of answering, I drank up the glass in front of me in one gulp. I held out the empty glass to Camilla.

“Fill it up. Then fill yours too.”

Watching her fill the glass with slightly trembling hands, she’s definitely drunk. I’m relieved the wine bottle is empty now. We lightly clinked glasses and tilted them back.

“…Johan. Apart from the treatment drug… do you really not care about anything else?”

“That’s not true.”

“Just say it is. That would make me feel… a little less miserable.”

“Miserable? Why do you keep talking like that?”

Camilla pushes her hair back as if she’s dealing with the world’s biggest idiot.

“Are you really that stupid? Don’t you know why I’m acting this way?”

You’re pulling out your finishing move here?

“Earlier, with Cassandra on the sofa…”

“…Sigh.”

That seems wrong. What should I do? I definitely picked the wrong day to talk to her.

No. Camilla isn’t the type of woman who picks fights and makes life difficult for no reason.

She’s straightforward—if it’s no, it’s no; if it’s yes, it’s yes—a woman who speaks her mind directly.

So this time, I must be missing something. But what is it? What could it be?

“Is it because of the pheromone talk? Because you don’t want me to become a zombie?”

“Something like that.”

There’s still a chance. Let me think more about this. We already somewhat wrapped up the zombie talk and virus enhancement discussion earlier, so that’s probably not the real issue.

Taking sides. She mentioned taking sides.

What could Camilla and Cassandra be fighting about that would divide them?

Even if they have differences of opinion, was there something that would make her this angry?

I can’t remember if I’ve forgotten it, or if I just dismissed it as not that important, but I can’t distinguish between the two.

No. Wait a minute.

“Camilla, can I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“Weren’t you curious about that pheromone earlier? You were clearly wondering if it comes from you too, and if so, how strong the effect is.”

Somehow this feels right. Like a beam of light shining from the sky, illuminating a buried treasure chest.

Except here, a drunk and very angry woman is glaring at me.

“…Why do you think I asked about that?”

I think the right answer is “because you were curious.” I have that much sense.

Cassandra talked about “amplification.” She said it could “strengthen” existing emotions but couldn’t create something from nothing, and that my ability wasn’t particularly strong to begin with.

I remember Camilla’s complicated expression when she heard that.

“Then I’d feel a little less miserable.”

What made Camilla think about being miserable?

I don’t know. All the puzzle pieces are right in front of me, but they won’t come together. I have no idea what the original picture was supposed to be, so I don’t even know what I’m trying to piece together.

Miserable, huh.

The last time Camilla used such a strong expression was when she found out the Elsa Central District had deceived her.

It was similar to when she said she regretted everything, feeling like all her choices had turned into wrong decisions.

Unwanted choices. Reluctant choices. Unsatisfying results…

‘Can’t you take my side?’

‘Liking someone for no reason.’

‘Does it come from me too?’

‘…Do you have to do that?’

Maybe.

Maybe…

“Because of that… substance from my body. So…”

Camilla looks at me. She roughly finishes my sentence.

“So that’s why you…”

Camilla slowly, very slowly, nodded.

“If that’s why I like you, if it wasn’t my pure feelings but some… chemical reaction, I… I don’t think I could bear it.”

It’s heavy. The weight of the alcohol I suddenly drank, the time I’ve spent with Camilla—it all settles heavily on me.

But in another way, it’s comforting. Like the weight of a thick blanket on a cold day. Even the LED light seems as gentle as candlelight.

“If it had been because of the pheromones, I really couldn’t have stood it. Because it wouldn’t have been my own will. But the more I thought about it, it didn’t seem right. The timing doesn’t match up either.

But thinking about it that way… made me feel really wronged and hurt. I like you a lot. I want to do anything you like, do things for you. I want to accommodate you.

Even now when I’m mad at you. I’m really angry… but it seems like you just… don’t care about me.

So even though I know I shouldn’t think this way, I wondered if maybe… if I had such pheromones too.

Since you don’t seem to dislike me completely, I thought maybe I’d have a chance. Creepy, right?”

“Camilla.”

“Ah, I’m the worst.”

Camilla covered her face with her palms.

“Camilla, that’s not it.”

I grabbed her arm, but she struggled.

“Let go.”

The wine glass knocked over. Fortunately, it didn’t break. I took the bottle and glass outside the tent.

Zip.

Camilla closed the tent zipper halfway. I could open it if I tried, but she doesn’t seem to want that. She even turned off the light.

“…I’m sorry, Johan. I’ll go to sleep. Just forget it. I think I drank too much.”

“That’s not it. I…”

“I know. I know everything. You… have things to do.”

Camilla cut me off.

“It’s because of me.”

“I said I know.”

A tearful voice. I ended up sitting with my back to the tent.

Whether it was because my head was spinning or my heart was unraveling on its own, words I never thought I’d say in my life flowed from my mouth.

“When I was young, my parents fought quite often.”

It really feels like I’ve gone back to that time. I would be fast asleep behind drawn curtains, only to be awakened by the sound of my parents fighting.

All I could see then was darkness as deep as the corner of this room. A faint light would seep through the door crack, and the shadows around the light seemed even darker.

Thinking I should stop my parents, but more afraid of what would happen if they really separated, I would get up to grab the doorknob.

Then I’d sit back down. Because of a childish, frightening, and strange thought: I’m a shadow right now, what if I get cut off by that light…

Maybe that was just another expression of my fear—what would I do if I couldn’t stop my parents even after opening the door?

“At least in front of me, my parents were really good people. They thought deeply about me and cherished me.

But when I was asleep or at school, when they were a couple rather than parents… it wasn’t good at all.

Most of it was about money, but I think there was something deeper than that.”

“……”

“There were days when both of them tried to be especially nice to me. I think those were invariably days when they had big fights.

Each time, I had mixed feelings. While grateful to my parents, knowing why I was receiving this… I couldn’t be completely happy about it.”

I wish I had more alcohol. Then I could just fall asleep.

Then I might be able to close my runaway mouth. But there’s no more alcohol.

“Eventually, they reconciled. After money started coming in… it seemed to not matter anymore. We were lucky. Something like laughter even circulated in the house.

They would joke with each other. But occasionally, barbed insinuations would pass between them. Even then, they had grown calluses, so it didn’t seem to hurt much.

If it’s good, it’s all good. That’s what I think. But sometimes… when I see people who look harmonious, I wonder: isn’t that just some kind of act too?”

The ground seems to be pulling me down. My head feels heavy. I’m not even sure if I’m speaking properly.

It’s like… I’m purging something. Like vomiting up things that have just been sitting inside me, indigestible burdens.

I don’t want to embarrass myself.

“If it’s just a matter of mutual interest, it’s comfortable, right? When what each person gets is clear, and the boundaries are distinct, there’s no problem. It’s exactly like a transaction. No need to invest emotions or unnecessary feelings.

But other relationships… I don’t know. I wonder if I could form such relationships. If I could become… that kind of person with someone.”

I heard the sound of the zipper opening. But I couldn’t turn around. Because Camilla was gently embracing me from behind.

“Then, what about me?”

“I trust you. I’ve told you before. It’s not a lie. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have formed relationships with others to this extent. Earlier too… I trusted you and let you watch my back.”

“I know that.”

Camilla strokes my hair. It’s what I often did for her whenever she was anxious. Now she’s returning the gesture.

“Are you scared, Johan? Of becoming… that kind of deep relationship with someone?”

“…I don’t know. Like you. Just believing in the feeling of liking someone, being able to deepen with someone else. Without measuring this and that, without mutual interests…”

My throat feels tight. Only after clearing it could I finish speaking.

“Being entangled with each other, growing deeper. I’m sure such people exist. Such love exists. But I don’t think that story would be mine.”

Camilla moved away from me. The cold wind feels chilly. Click. The LED light turned on. It changed to a softer, more ambient glow.

“Camilla?”

Instead of answering, Camilla showed an ambiguous expression—it was hard to tell if she was smiling or crying.

“Is that all?”

“Uh… huh?”

“You said it yourself. That some people might be like that. That there are people who can become entangled with each other through emotions alone. But you don’t think that story would be yours. Really, is that all?”

Camilla fiddles with her lips.

“Really, even if such an opportunity came right before your eyes, you wouldn’t take it? You know what your heart is saying. You’re so good at reading other people’s minds, even zombie thoughts, but why don’t you fully comfort your own heart?”

She runs her finger, glistening with saliva, down between her cleavage.

“Really, is that all?”

My head lowered involuntarily.

“I’m sorry. I’m scared.”

“What are you so afraid of?”

“Showing my heart completely. That might… hurt someone.”

Silence.

I looked up at the rustling sound.

Camilla had taken off her t-shirt. She was wearing pretty… sexy underwear. A lace-trimmed bra that revealed almost all of her chest. The same underwear she once said she had collected in different colors.

“…I was hoping for a better answer than that.”

“…Uh, what?”

“I wish I hadn’t known about you.”

Camilla bowed her head and laughed. The hand that had flicked her bra followed her well-defined abs down to her dolphin pants. She folded the waistband once.

There was an unopened condom tucked in.