Lying on my back, I open my eyes and look at the moon.
A perfectly round moon-sama.
The slightly cold, blue light feels somewhat nice.
I hear a faint beast’s howl in the distance.
It has been a long time since I moon gazed like this.
However, after gazing in wonder for several minutes, the perfectly round moon starts looking like someone’s eye, making me lose composure.
The feeling of being watched.
Unpleasant. Yes, somewhat unpleasant.
I avert my eyes from the moon and slowly stand up.
The wind brushes my body after I stand up. No, rather, it feels like it passes through me.
A mysteriously lonely feeling.
I take a deep breath (I couldn’t do it for some reason) and look around slowly.
There are extremely magnificent ruins.
The stone and wood used as a material for buildings are scattered on the ground, unmistakable rubble mountain.
It’s all over the place.
It was originally most likely a small town.
Traces of stone buildings are here and there, but now even walls, much less the roofs remain.
Ventilation should be good.
The debris can be seen stained under the moonlight. It’s burned and carbonized.
Broken chair legs. Rusty overturned pans. Rag clothes caught on the barely standing wooden pillar.
Was this town involved in a war?
It perhaps burned then.
This land has experienced a great history.
I calmly analyze the surroundings, but the essence of the problem wasn’t there.
What is it that I must think about the most?
That is “Why am I in a place like this?” in the first place.
What is the “purpose” of “me” being here?
If I didn’t have a purpose, why would I be sleeping in such ruins?
Well, anyway. I have to remember.
“Why am I in a place like this?”
If I can figure out the answer to this question, I will automatically understand my “purpose”.
It may not be necessarily “I” either.
Ah, wait a second. Sorry, that was a lie.
In the first place, I don’t understand a thing about “me”.
No, I also don’t understand such a philosophical question.
I “just” noticed that I don’t know anything about myself at all.
I don’t know a single thing about myself.
How old am I?
How tall am I?
What is my favorite food?
Do I have a lover?
Ah, I don’t even know if I’m a man or a woman!
I should be able to confirm it myself!
I…… I reach my hand near my abdomen.
Yep, it’s not there!
I’m a woman!
Then, using “Boku” would be weird. Should I use “Watashi” or “Uchi” or perhaps “Watakushi” instead?
Eh, but wait.
The feeling is a little strange.
A hard touch is transmitted to my fingers since a little while ago.
Such hard feeling is similar to the one when you touch a plank.
Something is weird.
Because it’s dark I have to confirm by touch.
I look down on my body lower body, relying on the brightness of the moonlight.
But, instead of my lower part of the body, I see a bone? like thing.
Bones of a person who died in the war?
I look down again.
What is it, it’s so dark I can’t see well.
Drawing the moonlight on me, I can see only someone’s remains?
Getting tired of it, I sigh (I couldn’t do it for some reason) and rub inner canthus with my right hand.
I’m so thin my limbs look just like skin and bones.
But, now, the hand which passed through my eye socket, didn’t have even a speck of skin.
I somehow felt that was the case.
But, yeah, ah, really?
I look around once more.
Then, fortunately, I found the thing I was looking for.
A slightly larger puddle.
To be honest, I would be okay with any reflection of my figure, but I’m fortunate I can find out so soon.
It rained yesterday, huh?
I look into the large puddle.
Ohoo! What a splendid skull desu wa.
A once in a hundred years sculpture, seriously.
This seems to be a quite beautiful shape (I don’t know if I’m a man or a woman, so I have to use such an expression).
What a splendid carving.
I somehow became bones during my sleep.