Ch.106Someone’s Memory(T)+

# 106. Someone’s Memory(T)+

Memory, or rather, reminiscence.

I hardly have anything I could call reminiscences.

Since childhood, I’ve spent too many years in hospitals.

The world wasn’t very kind to a young disabled person without parents when it came to going outside with a wheelchair or crutches, and my muscle strength was far too weak.

I suppose I should consider myself fortunate in some ways.

My parents had taken out various insurance policies, and the accident was entirely the fault of the other party.

My aunt and uncle, who suddenly became my guardians, weren’t particularly great or terrible.

For a couple who had no plans for children suddenly taking in their niece, I think they did well.

They weren’t affectionate, but they preserved my home, maintained it occasionally, visited me in the hospital sometimes, bought me food, and told me about what was happening in the world.

Moreover, the doctors and nurse sisters were kind, and the people in my hospital room were good people.

…I suppose it’s inevitable that sympathy was mixed in with that kindness and goodwill.

There was a time when that bothered and upset me, but now I know. It’s a privileged complaint, and I should be grateful.

You say I’m speaking as if I know things at such a young age?

Surgery, rehabilitation, gathering courage to go to school.

There were uncomfortable stares, but just when I’d start to adapt, I’d need another surgery, more rehabilitation, and back to school again. This cycle repeated.

Naturally, I grew distant from people and became alone. Later, even when occasionally friendly kids approached me first, I put up walls.

What’s the point of trying to become friends?

We’d just part ways soon anyway.

Fortunately, I didn’t particularly dislike reading and seemed to be fairly intelligent. I barely graduated middle school, and instead of entering high school, I just took the equivalency exam.

It was easy.

Much easier than spending three years in an unfamiliar space with countless people, receiving uncomfortable stares and being stressed.

Now I no longer needed to go to school, but…

Surgery, rehabilitation.

Reading books.

This pattern hasn’t changed much even now as I’m about to turn twenty from nineteen.

“Oh, Arang. A different book today? Did you finish the other one already?”

“Yes, sister. It was interesting.”

“You weren’t secretly reading late at night again, were you? You’ll be in trouble if you did.”

“Of course not. That time I was just too curious about what would happen next.”

I’m sorry to say this about my parents who passed away early, but now this nurse feels more like family. How many years have I been seeing her now? There’s quite an age gap to call her sister, but she likes it, so I do.

“Your discharge date is coming up soon. What will you do after you leave this time?”

“I’m not sure. Probably the same as always.”

“I see.”

I like this nurse because she doesn’t offer unsolicited advice. How many times have I been stressed by comments casually thrown at me by other patients or their guardians, occasionally—no, quite frequently?

– You should really go to school.

– Why don’t you try a different hobby?

– Don’t you have any friends? I bet Arang was popular, being so cute.

They were mostly adults, elderly people, and clearly had no ill intentions, so I couldn’t say anything and just responded with “Yes, thank you” and laughed it off.

But.

What should I really do?

I was seriously contemplating this when I realized the nurse hadn’t finished speaking.

“Well, I’m not sure if I should mention this, but…”

“Yes?”

“My sister has been complaining a lot lately. Her son is completely absorbed in some game, and his grades have dropped because of it.”

“Ah. A common story.”

I may not be a good speaker, but I think I’m a fairly decent listener. I closed the novel I was reading and focused on what the nurse was saying.

“They’ve had big fights, and she’s tried reasoning with him, but if it could be easily resolved, she wouldn’t have complained to me so many times. And I’m not a doctor, just a nurse—what solution could I offer? All I can do is listen and say, ‘I see, that must be tough.'”

“I’ve heard limiting game time just makes kids want to play more.”

“She tried giving him freedom too, but the problem is that my nephew doesn’t know moderation and just keeps playing.”

Games.

An unfamiliar topic for me.

I’ve played a few mobile games, but I preferred reading novels.

Especially fantasy novels.

In those, I wasn’t a leg patient bordering on disability—I was a legendary hero, knight, archer, warrior, or mage.

Still, I knew what games were like since most topics my classmates, especially the boys, discussed at school were about games.

“So, Arang.”

“Yes, sister?”

“I was thinking, if my nephew had a gaming friend, things might change a bit.”

“A gaming friend?”

Games? Friend? Gaming friend?

“Yes. A gaming friend. They say games are more fun when played together, right? If he finds enjoyment in playing with someone, maybe he’ll find it less fun when that person isn’t playing—that’s what I thought. Is that too strange?”

“You want me to become your nephew’s gaming friend?”

“Yes. You just need to play with him for a while. You don’t even need to share personal information. Just one thing: play with him for a reasonable amount of time, then stop.”

“And leave the possibility of playing together again?”

“Exactly! That’s my Arang!”

I understood what she meant. It seemed like a good idea. I had nothing else to do anyway, and I was a bit curious about how fun this game could be to make someone’s grades drop so dramatically.

“But is this too much? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No, I’ll do it.”

“Really? Are you sure? Now that I’ve said it out loud, I feel like I’m asking something strange of you.”

“Really. I had nothing to do anyway, and this is the last volume of this novel too.”

Compared to the nurse’s years of kindness and goodwill, fulfilling this request is nothing.

I was discharged a week later.

I had messaged my aunt and uncle beforehand. I told them that I’m an adult now and can be discharged alone. That I’m used to it and it’s fine. That they’re busy and don’t need to come.

After briefly responding to their discharge congratulation messages, I arrived at my quiet but clean home after a long time.

“I’m home.”

Even though it’s an empty house. And has been for a long time.

I greeted my deceased parents, letting them know I’m still alive today.

I changed clothes, washed up, ate dinner while looking at a slightly faded family photo from when I was young, reminiscing a little.

Then I installed the game the nurse had told me about.

And gradually, my life began to change.

**

About a year has passed.

I’ve become completely addicted to this game. The nurse’s nephew, on the other hand, quit the game long ago. The reason still seems absurd to me.

– Hey, are you a girl?

– Why are you suddenly asking that?

– You talk like a girl lol just curious

– Yes, I am

– Hey, can we chat privately?

– Why private chat?

– So if you can’t log in, I can message you instead of waiting

– Okay

– But why is your profile pic the default one?

– I don’t really use chat much

– I’m curious, can’t you show me? It’s weird that you’re a friend my aunt introduced but I don’t know your face or name

– We’re just gaming friends. Why should I show you my face?

– Lol are you a catfish? Scared?

I looked up the meaning of “catfish,” took screenshots of the chat, and sent them to the nurse.

And that gaming friendship ended. I wasn’t curious about what happened afterward and didn’t ask.

After that, I abandoned that character with its unpleasant memories and created a new one.

I changed my speech style too. Since I didn’t know how men talk, I just made it as stiff as possible.

The internet and games are full of strange people. Even in games with predominantly male players, things would get annoying once they discovered I was female.

The same went for character names. While wondering what name wouldn’t appear feminine, I remembered that the protagonist in the novel I was reading belonged to the Baek family.

Baek family became Baek-mun (hundred gates), which became “back door.” The protagonist was steadfast, so it became “steadfast back door.”

‘Ah… another party quest.’

I seemed to have a talent for gaming. Partly because I played a lot, but I quickly entered the ranks of top players despite being a latecomer. My damage output was decent too. I preferred agile characters.

In reality, only my eyeballs and fingers moved busily, but in the game, my avatar fought and defeated massive, powerful enemies after fierce battles.

Like the protagonist in a novel.

No, it was even more thrilling.

Because I was controlling the game directly.

But even for someone like me, party quests were unavoidable.

‘There’s a reward item I really want, so I can’t just skip it.’

There must be many solo players like me, so why do they create these quests?

I’ve been burned by gaming friends before, so that’s uncomfortable, and I don’t want to join any groups.

‘And it’s untradeable so I can’t buy it from the marketplace… Damn. Should I give up?’

This is annoying.

I should stop for today and read a novel instead.

But.

[JoanOfArcIsASaint: Hey]

What’s with that username?

[JoanOfArcIsASaint: SteadfastBackDoor]

[SteadfastBackDoor: ?]

[JoanOfArcIsASaint: If you]

[JoanOfArcIsASaint: haven’t completed the Shining Ruan quest]

[JoanOfArcIsASaint: would you like to enter together?]

Normally I would have refused.

I would have refused even more because of the strange username.

But I might not get another chance like this.

[SteadfastBackDoor: ok]

[JoanOfArcIsASaint: Oh! Thank you, I’ll create the party]

This person seems to have basic manners, but is it because of their username? They seem a bit odd.

Well, I’ll just complete this quest and never see them again, so it doesn’t matter.