JP
「それが―――どうしたっていうんだ、式」
言葉にしてみれば、どうという事はなかった。
不思議な事に―――胸を掻き
らなければならないほどの不安や焦燥を、私は苦しいとも悲しいとも感じない。
不安はある。痛みもある。
でもそれは、あくまで両儀式だったものが抱くものだ。
私は無感動だ。二年間の死からの蘇生にも興味はない。
ただユラユラとここにいる。
自分が生きているなんて、とても実感できないままで。
BT
"But --- so what if it is like that, Shiki?"
It's really not such a big deal. It's fascinating --- this unsettling feeling and nervousness that makes me grasp my chest, I don't feel that it's either agonizing or sad.
There's anxiety. There's pain.
But that's all something the child called Ryougi Shiki is holding onto.
I'm just apathetic. Even that fact that I've come back to life after two years fails to move me.
I'm just swaying with the wind and wandering here and there.
Without being able to feel that I'm actually alive.
COKE
“And so? What the fuck does it matter?” I mutter to myself with as much conviction as I can muster. And once I’ve said that, I feel less troubled by it. Strangely, this feeling of disquiet and irritation that scratches and pulls at my chest is sort of refreshing, in its own way. There’s anxiety. There’s pain. But those are feelings that the sixteen-year old Shiki still held on to. Me? I’m unimpressed. I don’t know why I’m still alive but I have no intention of looking a gift horse in the mouth. Not like I feel alive in the first place anyway. I’m just here, now; nursing an existence of being adrift on the wind.