Don't Let Me Be Lost
「私を失わせるな」の英語版です
https://ncode.syosetu.com/n4999hn/
Note on Characters and Setting
Deino's novels make use of a star system.
Characters may share names and broad personality traits across different stories,
but they are distinct individuals in separate, unrelated worlds.
If I told you there’s a kind of medical treatment that can regrow lost limbs or even organs in an instant… would you believe me?
Well, I wouldn’t. Not even a little. I mean, *slow* regeneration might be believable, but instant? That’s straight-up cheap sci-fi—or worse, fantasy nonsense.
And yet, here I am, someone who has no choice but to believe it.
Because I’ve seen it with my own eyes. No, scratch that—I’ve experienced it with my own body.
...Even so, I still don’t fully trust this "miracle treatment."
Even after going through it myself, there’s just something that doesn’t sit right with me.
And it turns out, I’m not the only one who feels that way...
---
**"Ca, I still can't wrap my head around it. Just how the hell does that advanced regeneration treatment of yours actually work?"**
It was a crisp March morning, with a breeze that felt nice and fresh. I was heading to my annual check-up—
...with my future husband.
Okay, yeah, the wind was fresh, but it was also freezing. And yeah, I totally caught a cold. Again. Happens every year around this time, so it’s kinda tradition at this point.
---
**"I told you, Mg, I don’t know how it works either. I mean, yeah, it’s your first time seeing it, but I’ve been getting this treatment every year since I was 17. I’m 24 now—so that’s seven years."**
The guy walking beside me, eyeing me like I was some kind of mystery meat, is Mg.
Mg Kagutsuchi.
He’s the one I proposed to last Christmas—and thank the stars, he said yes.
We haven’t set a date yet, but we’re hoping to get married sometime this year.
And since we’re gonna be living together, I figured he might as well come along and witness the weirdest part of my yearly routine: my treatment.
You know, the one that still doesn’t totally make sense, even after all this time.
---
**"We’ve been together for ages, but this is literally the first I’m hearing about this treatment,"** Mg said.
**"Well yeah, because I don’t even really understand what it *is*, okay? I mean—‘limbs and organs grow back instantly’? How do you even begin to explain that?"**
**"Even if I could buy that they grow back… *instantly*? That’s the part that makes no damn sense."**
He’s not wrong. That’s exactly the part that bugs me too.
---
**"Which is why, in the spirit of ‘seeing is believing,’ I yanked off my left pinky finger this morning."**
**"DON’T SHOW ME THAT! Geez, it still makes my blood run cold. Are you *sure* it’ll grow back?"**
**"Of course it will! I wouldn’t just chop off a finger if I wasn’t sure, would I?"**
**"I mean, even if I *was* sure, I still wouldn’t do that. What the hell is wrong with you?"**
**"Hey, there are stories about yakuza cutting off their pinkies, right? I figured, well, mine’ll grow back anyway, so… snip-snip?"**
**"...Am I really gonna marry this woman?"**
---
Mg was clearly disturbed—and honestly, so was I. That hurt way more than I expected.
What the heck, morning Ca? Why did you think that was a good idea?
Since it was a public holiday, the streets were filled with elementary school kids laughing and playing as they passed by us.
Their cheerful energy was a complete contrast to our thoroughly deflated vibe.
---
The advanced regeneration treatment I go through each year is supposed to instantly recreate any lost tissues by rapidly activating human cells.
That’s the official explanation, at least. The actual method? Totally top secret—either protected by a patent or classified company intel or whatever.
We’ve all heard of regenerative medicine using iPS cells, right?
Growing or transplanting human tissues in a lab—cool stuff, but it’s still far from being widely available.
Governments around the world are pushing for regenerative medicine, sure.
But this “**advanced**” regeneration stuff? No one seems to know a damn thing about it.
---
**"Okay, fine. Let’s say it *does* grow back—still not buying it, but whatever. So… why do you only get this treatment once a year?"**
Mg’s question is valid.
Honestly, I’d only ever told him I was “getting some kind of regenerative treatment.”
So it’s no surprise he’s full of questions now.
---
**"Well, apparently the technology isn’t super refined yet. According to the doctor, the regenerated parts start to degrade after about a year. So they do a full-body internal scan and regrow whatever needs replacing."**
**"You think that’s why you always catch colds right after New Year’s?"**
**"Probably. My immune system’s probably weak from all this. Also, it’s just cold in general."**
Mg and I met in high school and started dating in college.
So he’s known me since I started this treatment at 17—and seen me become the “girl who always gets sick in winter.”
---
**"But seriously, why did you start getting that treatment in the first place?"**
**"You don’t remember hearing I was in a car accident?"**
**"How the hell would I know about that?! When did it happen? When you were 17?"**
**"Bingo. But we weren’t that close back then, and it’s not like you'd know if some random classmate got hit by a car.
I didn’t miss that much school either, thanks to the treatment—I got discharged super quick."**
**"Damn... Why didn’t you tell me about that before? Must’ve been scary as hell."**
**"I mean, yeah, but also, c’mon—I chopped off my pinky this morning. You think I’m the type to get scared?"**
**"...You’ve got a point. So what happened, really?"**
**"My mom died in the accident."**
**"...Oh. Crap. I’m sorry."**
**"Don’t apologize. I brought it up."**
---
We used to be a family of three: Dad, Mom, and me.
That day was a clear, chilly one—kind of like today.
We were out as a family, having fun. And then… bam. A car came out of nowhere.
---
**"Sorry to bring this up, but… could you not mention the accident in front of my dad?"**
**"Of course. Got it.
So you were 17 when that happened… I was in middle school when my dad passed."**
Mg and I both come from single-parent households.
He lost his dad. I lost my mom.
Maybe that’s why we got along so well when we met—
We both had someone missing.
Trying to fill that void with each other, even though we knew it couldn’t ever be filled.
---
But even so, I became a lot more positive after meeting him.
Just having someone by your side—
It gives you strength. It gives you hope.
Of course, it also makes the idea of losing someone again that much scarier.
---
**"We’ve talked about losing our parents before, but not really the details."**
**"Yeah. Some memories you wanna revisit… some you don’t.
But once we’re ready, we’ll talk about it, slowly. We’re gonna be a family, after all."**
**"Yeah...
Also, we really need to save up for the wedding, huh?"**
**"We could just skip it, you know. A lot of people don’t do the whole ceremony thing anymore."**
**"Maybe, but…
I want to show our wedding to our parents, you know?"**
Mg tilted his head up to the sky as he said that.
He didn’t say “to my mom.”
He said “to our parents.” And I understood exactly what he meant.
---
**"Yeah. I get it."**
I looked up at the sky too.
Wonder if Mom’s watching right now?
Ugh, I’ve got so many tasks piling up for work...
Nope! Not today. Today’s my day off.
After the hospital, Mg and I are going to the movies!
---
**Advanced Regeneration Treatment**—
It brings back lost tissue almost instantly. When I got into that accident—
Or rather, *we* got into that accident—
my entire right side was completely crushed. Nearly gone.
The doctors later said that if the damage had been to my *left* side instead, I probably would've died.
Your heart’s just a little to the left of center, after all.
Not that I was fine or anything. I was barely alive. Seconds from death.
And right in front of my dad, who stood frozen in horror, drenched in my blood—
a paramedic showed up and said something that changed everything:
---
**"Would you like to try... advanced regeneration treatment?"**
---
I don’t remember anything after that.
They put me under, and that was it.
Even now, I’m always fully anesthetized during the treatment, so I still have no idea what they actually do.
But one thing’s clear:
That miracle treatment brought me back.
It stitched my soul back to this world.
...Mom didn’t make it. She died on impact.
No time to dwell on that—thinking about it just makes everything heavy again.
Let’s focus on the weirdness of this treatment instead.
---
(*...Still strange how I always wake up totally fine by noon, even after full-body anesthesia.*)
Yeah, the usual schedule is: treatment at 10 a.m., discharge around noon. Every single year.
But isn’t general anesthesia supposed to knock you out for the whole day?
Maybe that’s being “regenerated” too?
---
**"Back to the topic—this advanced regeneration stuff?
If it’s *so* amazing, why haven’t we heard of it? Why isn’t it famous?!"**
**"Exactly! I always wondered that too. I mean, with this kind of tech, they could be saving so many more people."**
**"Yeah, like those young celebrities who die from some disease out of nowhere..."**
**"Right?! And get this: the treatment is covered by insurance. That means it’s *officially* recognized by the government. It’s dirt cheap, thanks to that."**
**"Maybe it only works on a very specific type of person or condition?
Like, maybe it’s super risky or unstable?"**
**"I don’t know. I’ve tried asking the doctor before, but all I ever get is ‘Sorry, can’t say anything. Confidential.’"**
---
No, seriously, they *never* tell me anything.
I even tried looking it up online, but there’s like… nothing.
A few random posts on social media, but nobody seems to take it seriously.
Still, the treatment clearly exists.
I’m living proof.
And I know for a fact that there are others too—
---
**"We’re here."**
---
After walking and chatting for about 30 minutes, we finally arrived at the hospital.
Thankfully, it’s within walking distance from home—super convenient.
Also means we can hang out afterward.
---
**"Hello!"**
**"Ah, hey there."**
Someone called out to me from behind.
I turned around to find someone I see here every year—
a fellow patient of the same advanced regeneration treatment.
---
**"So you’re not the only one, huh?"**
**"Nah, every March, there’s always four of us. I think they do it once a month for a small group."**
Years ago, I got curious and secretly came to the hospital every day to observe.
Eventually, I figured out that this treatment takes place just once a month for a select few.
---
**"That’s wild. I mean, we’re talking full-body cell regeneration here—it *has* to be some big, complex procedure.
And they do it in batches?"**
**"Yup. One mystery leads to another.
I don’t even know if other hospitals do this, or if this only exists in Japan..."**
**"That’s so sketchy! Now I’m super curious!"**
**"Same!!"**
---
Mg and I are naturally curious people—we *love* solving mysteries.
That’s why I never told him about this before.
Not because I didn’t want to…
But because, I don’t know…
something told me it might be dangerous to dig too deep.
(*Also, it just felt like no matter how hard I searched, I’d never find anything.*)
The doctor’s constant “confidential” excuse.
The utter lack of information online.
It all feels like… trying would be a waste.
---
(*But I *do* want to know. I want to know more.
Now that Mg and I are getting married, I want him to share in this mystery too.*)
That’s why I cut my finger off this morning.
To show him. To prove it’s real.
It hurt like hell.
---
Mg waited in the lobby while I headed in for the yearly routine—
a checkup, some anesthesia, and the usual blackout event.
I never remember a single thing after that, but when I wake up, everything's fixed.
---
**"Wait… you cut your finger off?"**
**"It grows back anyway."**
Even the doctor looked horrified.
Well, yeah—if I were alone, I wouldn’t have done it.
But I wanted Mg to understand how weird this whole treatment is, and why I have to do it every year.
It definitely wasn't because I was like “ooh, I wonder how torture scenes in movies actually feel~” or anything. Probably.
---
**"So... how’s your body feeling?"**
**"Same as always—around the start of the year I get sick a lot. Cuts heal slower, stomach’s a mess..."**
**"Sounds like your immune system and internal cells are deteriorating again. Pretty much par for the course."**
---
The human body is a collection of living cells—
each a tiny life form on its own, dividing and dying in an endless cycle.
When those divisions go wrong, that’s how we get things like cancer.
I was told this regeneration treatment speeds up cell division.
That’s how it regrows lost limbs and organs so quickly.
But there’s a price.
Once the regeneration is done, the body’s ability to divide cells *properly* starts to decline.
Not right away, but slowly, over the course of the year.
By the end of it, things get rough.
That’s why I need this treatment every single year just to keep living.
It’s a pain, sure.
But I wouldn’t be here otherwise.
---
(*And I won’t let Dad go through another loss. Not again.*)
---
Once, I asked the doctor,
"Why couldn’t Mom be saved by this too?"
They told me it doesn’t work on people who are already dead when they arrive.
If you’re beyond saving by the time you reach the hospital, that’s it.
Which… makes sense, I guess.
But still, that doesn’t explain why we can’t use this for all those people who *aren’t* dead yet.
All those lives we lose to illness.
Young celebrities dying too soon, like Mg said.
And even beyond that—
If accelerated cell division burns out your body's natural capacity after just a year,
then doing it over and over should just make things worse, right?
Why doesn’t it?
---
So many questions.
And absolutely no answers.
---
But the one thing I do know—
If I don’t get this treatment, I’ll die.
---
(*I can’t let Dad suffer another loss.*
*And I’m going to marry Mg.*)
---
I’ve already experienced the pain of losing someone I love.
Now I’m the one who’s loved.
I won’t let them go through that pain.
Even if the treatment is weird and scary,
I need it.
Because I refuse to let them lose me.
---
**"Alright, that’s the end of the checkup. Head on over here, okay?"**
**"Okay."**
Next is the anesthesia.
Then the blackout.
Then I wake up healed.
This year will be the same as always.
After this, I’ll go watch a movie with Mg.
Then I’ll prep for work tomorrow...
That’s what I was thinking—
As the needle slid in and everything went black.
---
.....
...
..
.
---
**"WHAT THE HELL?!"**
---
A wave of nausea and exhaustion crushed me awake.
Cold. Dizzy. My head pounding. My limbs barely responsive.
Darkness.
---
**"What... is this place?"**
---
I was in a dark, cold room.
Lit dimly by a few scattered candles.
...Candles? In a hospital?
No, that’s not right.
The walls and floor were stone—
thick, rough stone.
It felt like the inside of a medieval castle, or a dungeon from some old RPG.
The flickering candles lit just a few things:
The walls.
The stone floor.
And the four of us lying there—
Naked.
---
**"Um... hey? Are you okay?"**
---
I spoke to the woman lying nearby.
No response.
I dragged myself closer—barely able to move—and realized I recognized her.
One of the other patients from the hospital.
I touched her face. Shook her shoulders.
She was breathing.
Just unconscious.
---
And when I touched her, I noticed something else.
---
**"My finger... is gone."**
---
My left pinky—
the one I’d cut off this morning—
hadn’t grown back yet.
So the treatment hadn’t been done.
We were still *before* the healing part.
---
**"What about the others...?"**
---
The other two people were also unconscious.
All four of us were the same group from earlier—the March patients.
I checked their backs and noticed something else:
---
**"What the hell is this...?"**
---
There were strange markings on their backs.
Painted symbols that looked... ritualistic.
And since they all had the same marking, I could only assume—
I probably had one too.
---
**"This... this isn’t just some weird treatment anymore, is it...?"**
---
What I was seeing—
the candles, the stone room, the strange symbols—
This was a ritual.
It looked like something out of a horror movie.
---
**"Is this part of the treatment?"**
---
I didn’t know.
But if it was, that would explain a *lot*.
Why it’s so secret.
Why they won’t talk about it.
Why no one knows it exists.
Maybe the regeneration isn't scientific at all.
Maybe it’s... something else.
But I couldn’t just sit there.
---
**"What do I do now?"**
---
Stay here?
Leave?
I was the only one awake.
Was that intentional? Or a mistake?
Either way, I had to decide something.
And fast.
---
**"I have to see Mg... and Dad..."**
---
I couldn’t let them lose me.
I couldn’t die here in some creepy stone room, covered in weird symbols.
---
**"First... I need to find someone. A doctor. *Anyone.*"**
---
I started to crawl.
I couldn’t stand yet—my body was too weak.
But I couldn’t stay here.
So I dragged myself along the rough stone floor.
The surface tore at my skin, scraping it raw.
My body, already fragile, bled and cracked.
---
**"Why the hell... is my body *this* weak?!"**
---
Two possibilities:
1. My body was already breaking down before the treatment.
2. The anesthesia.
Probably the second.
General anesthesia usually takes a full day to wear off.
And this felt exactly like that.
The others were probably still out cold for the same reason.
Maybe the doctor gave me the wrong dose?
Maybe I wasn’t supposed to be awake?
---
**"Either way—I have to find an exit."**
---
I kept crawling.
Dragging myself along the walls of the room.
Eventually, I got a sense of the layout.
It was about the size of a classroom—
And in the center of three walls, I found huge versions of those same strange symbols.
Painted, etched, or... something else.
I couldn’t tell in the dim light.
---
**"This is insane. It’s a full-blown ritual room..."**
---
Then finally, on the fourth wall—
---
**"...A path?"**
---
A narrow hallway. Just wide enough for one person.
No door.
No security.
Just a gap in the wall.
---
**"Here goes nothing..."**
---
The hallway was narrow, twisting left and right in sharp angles.
Just wide enough to crawl through.
It felt like it went on forever.
---
**"Ugh... can’t you just be straight?!"**
---
No lights.
Just pitch darkness.
But eventually, after what felt like 30 minutes of scraping my body against the walls and floor—
The floor changed.
---
**"Huh... this feels different."**
---
It was smoother.
Still cold, but polished.
Not jagged stone—just cold tiles.
Like… a hospital hallway.
And somehow, I was feeling a bit better.
The nausea and dizziness were still there, but less intense.
My limbs started working again. I could almost stand.
---
**"Why couldn’t you get better *before* my skin was flayed raw, body?"**
---
Blood had long dried along my legs from the stone floor.
Gross.
I kept moving forward, dragging myself a little faster now.
---
Then—light.
Just a faint one, far ahead.
A few more minutes, and I reached the source.
---
**"...No way."**
---
A hospital corridor.
Not ancient stone. Not a dungeon.
Just… a regular, sterile hallway.
It looked exactly like the one I entered this morning.
The same type of fluorescent lights.
The same color paint on the walls.
No windows—it was probably underground.
---
**"What... what the hell is going on here?"**
---
I turned around.
Behind me, the narrow tunnel I’d crawled through was still open.
It just… connected to the hallway like it belonged there.
No door. No security.
Just a hole.
And next to it—
a printed sign on A4 paper, stuck to the wall with a magnet.
---
**“Ritual in progress – Do not enter until 6:00 AM”**
---
I stared at the words.
"Ritual."
They actually called it that.
In a *hospital*.
---
**"What the hell kind of treatment *is* this?!"**
---
Okay. Focus.
The sign said "until 6 AM"… What time is it now?
There were no clocks down here.
And no windows.
I’d arrived at the hospital at 10AM, and was probably put under soon after that.
So at least a few hours had passed by now.
But I didn’t feel "done" yet.
My finger was still missing.
No regeneration had taken place.
Whatever this ritual was—
It hadn’t happened yet.
---
**"I need to find Mg and Dad."**
---
I moved forward, slowly but steadily.
Sneaking.
No one could see me.
Not like this.
---
And I definitely didn’t want to be dragged back into that room.
---
.....
...
---
After ten minutes of creeping through deserted hallways and climbing three flights of stairs, I finally found people.
Two figures—talking ahead of me.
A doctor and a nurse.
But not my doctor.
---
**(...Should I talk to them?)**
---
I hesitated.
They might be in on this.
They probably *were*.
If they saw me, I might get dragged back.
Or worse.
---
But before I could decide, I saw it—
A window.
Finally.
---
**"Evening...?"**
---
The sky outside was dim.
It was evening now.
That confirmed it.
---
The treatment wasn't happening like usual.
Normally, I’d be out by noon.
Back home. Watching a movie with Mg.
But now—
The sun was going down.
That alone told me:
Something had gone horribly off-script.
---
**"I can’t talk to anyone here."
"I need to get out. Now."**
---
No phone.
No money.
No clothes.
Nothing.
Just me.
I looked out the window.
No security. No bars.
I could do this.
---
**"Let’s hope I don’t get caught..."**
---
I opened the window.
It wasn’t locked.
And just like that—
I was outside.
---
The sun was almost down.
The air was cold.
But I didn’t care.
I was out.
---
The hospital sat surrounded by trees—some kind of courtyard or garden.
I stayed close to the wall and crept around until I spotted the front entrance.
No sign of Mg.
---
**(Please don’t let anything have happened to him...)**
---
My body hurt.
The cold cut into me.
But I had to get home.
---
**"Man, this is straight up pervert-level now. Full-on streaker mode."**
---
Okay yeah, not the time for jokes.
Still, I was naked, bleeding, and missing a finger.
Anyone who saw me would call the cops.
Or scream.
---
**"I need to get home fast, before anyone sees me."**
---
I finally made it home.
But the lights were off.
---
**"...Why?"**
---
Dad should be home.
It’s a holiday.
He never goes out on holidays.
I rang the doorbell.
No answer.
---
**"Key, key..."**
---
I didn’t have anything on me.
Not even clothes.
But I knew there was a spare key hidden out front.
Near the flower pot.
Behind a rock.
It was too dark to see properly, and my vision was starting to blur.
Either the pain, the cold, or... something else.
I was so, so sleepy.
---
**"...Found it."**
---
I unlocked the door and stepped inside.
Blood had crusted on my feet, so at least I wasn’t tracking it everywhere.
I rushed to my room and turned on my PC.
If I could get the chat app open, I could contact Mg.
Then—
I heard it.
The front door opening.
---
**Click.**
---
**“Huh? Did I forget to lock the door?”**
---
Dad’s voice.
Thank god.
He’s okay.
At least... this nightmare didn’t reach him.
---
But before I could breathe easy—
I heard another voice.
---
**“Seriously, Dad? Getting forgetful already?”**
---
...
Oh.
Oh no.
---
I hadn’t really thought this part through.
But I should’ve.
This... was always a possibility.
---
I could hear them talking in the entryway.
My dad replying, a little confused, about how he "wasn’t that old yet."
Yeah. He’s not the one who forgot to lock the door.
I am.
Because I’m not supposed to be here.
Because—right now—there’s already another me here.
---
And then, before I could react—
My door opened.
---
And standing there, in the doorway,
was me.
The new me.
The one with all her fingers.
The one with a fresh, healed body.
---
She froze.
I collapsed.
---
She caught me just before I hit the floor.
---
**"What the hell?! Who—what—?!"**
---
She was panicking.
I wanted to say something.
Explain everything.
But I was too tired.
Too numb.
Too sleepy.
So I said just one thing.
---
**"...Send me back to the hospital."**
---
And then, I passed out.
---
Warm.
And... vibrating?
---
**“Huh? What’s going on—?”**
---
I jolted awake.
And immediately startled the person carrying me.
---
**“You’re up?”**
**“Wait—what’s going on? How long was I out? Is Mg okay? What time is it? Where even are we??”**
---
**“One question at a time!”**
**“I’m piggybacking you back to the hospital. You were out for about fifteen minutes. Mg’s fine. Why wouldn’t he be?”**
---
**“Ah... I mean, just checking. It’s enough to know he’s okay.”**
**“...Did you two still go to the movie?”**
---
**“Yeah. Total B-movie, but we laughed our asses off. Then your dad called, and we figured we’d grab dinner together.”**
**“When we got home, there *you* were.”**
---
Right.
So I wasn’t hallucinating.
I really *did* stumble into my own house and crash.
And now, the new me—this year’s Ca—is carrying me back to the hospital.
Kind of surreal.
Also...
---
**“Thanks for lending me your clothes, by the way.”**
---
**“Well yeah, it’d be weird to carry myself around butt-naked. I tried to dress you respectfully.”**
---
**“You’re a good me.”**
---
**“I try.”**
---
**“So, uh... just to confirm... You’re the current me? The 7th Ca?”**
**“And I’m... last year’s model?”**
---
**“Bingo. I’ve got all my fingers. You don’t.”**
---
**“Guess that makes you the seventh, and I’m the sixth.”**
**“Mind if I call you Seven?”**
---
**“Only if I can call you Six.”**
---
And just like that, we had names.
Six and Seven.
---
**“So Six...”**
**“What the hell happened in there?”**
---
**“Short version: I woke up in a creepy-ass stone room, naked, surrounded by other unconscious patients from the same treatment group.”**
**“All of us had weird symbols painted on our backs.”**
---
**“The whole thing felt like some kind of ritual.”**
---
**“Wait what? A ritual?!”**
---
**“Yeah. Like, candles and symbols and all. Legit spooky stuff. Not even exaggerating.”**
**“And now I’m pretty sure this whole 'advanced regenerative medicine' thing is *not* regular medicine.”**
---
**“So why are we going back?”**
---
**“...Because someone has to.”**
---
Seven stopped walking for a second.
I could feel her hesitation.
---
**“You realize... once you go back, there’s a good chance you’re not coming back out, right?”**
---
**“Yeah.”**
**“Pretty sure I disappear after this.”**
---
**“And you’re... okay with that?”**
---
I took a breath.
This was important.
---
**“We both know what this is about, right?”**
**“We can’t let them lose Ca.”**
**“Not Dad. Not Mg. We’ve both felt the grief of losing someone you love. And we’ve both become someone they love.”**
**“That love has to keep going. Even if the face changes. Even if the soul or the body or whatever gets rebooted every year.”**
---
**“As long as there’s a ‘Ca’ around, no one has to mourn.”**
---
Seven was quiet.
I could feel her shoulders shift beneath me.
---
**“You know,” she said, “I don’t think I ever really thought about it that way.”**
---
**“About what?”**
---
**“How heavy that responsibility is.”**
**“How it’s not just about surviving... it’s about keeping *someone* alive for the sake of everyone else.”**
---
**“Exactly.”**
---
**“Still,” she muttered, “it’s weird carrying myself to what might be... well, my end.”**
---
**“You’ll get used to it.”**
**“Probably.”**
---
**“So hey…”**
**“Why do you think I was able to escape in the first place?”**
---
**“Huh?”**
---
**“That creepy ritual room had no door.”**
**“The hallway out of it was narrow as hell, but there were no locks. No guards. No cameras. Not even a motion sensor.”**
---
**“That’s... true.”**
---
**“Security was way too loose.”**
**“If they really wanted to keep us inside, they could’ve. But they didn’t.”**
---
**“So you think... they let you escape on purpose?”**
---
**“Dunno. Maybe.”**
**“Could be someone messed up with the anesthesia.”**
**“But even that—if they didn’t want escapees, they’d tighten things up.”**
---
**“Which means... they don’t care?”**
---
**“Or... maybe they *want* us to see something.”**
---
Seven fell silent again.
We both were thinking the same thing now.
---
**“Still, no matter what’s really going on... I gotta go back.”**
---
**“Even if it kills you?”**
---
**“Even then.”**
---
I could hear Seven grit her teeth.
Maybe she was frustrated.
Maybe she was scared.
---
**“Just so we’re clear,” she said, “if you die in there, I’m not gonna just forget it.”**
**“I’m going to *remember* this.”**
---
**“Then pass it on.”**
**“To the next Ca.”**
---
**“If we can’t escape the cycle, we can at least *understand* it.”**
---
**“You think the hospital knows we know?”**
---
**“They might suspect.”**
---
We fell quiet for a moment, walking.
The trees rustled gently around us.
The night was still cold, but somehow... it didn’t feel so harsh anymore.
---
**“Hey.”**
**“What if this whole ritual thing really *is* magic or whatever?”**
---
**“Wouldn’t be surprised.”**
---
**“Think it’s demonic?”**
---
**“Hope not.”**
---
**“Think the old versions of us are still... you know... *around* somewhere?”**
---
**“If they are, Mom’s probably rolling her eyes having to babysit five Cae in the afterlife.”**
---
We both chuckled.
It was a weird, bittersweet thought.
But not a bad one.
---
Finally, we reached the hospital’s side entrance.
---
**“Well,” I said, hopping down from her back, **“this is my stop.”**
---
**“Guess so.”**
---
**“Thanks for the ride, Seven.”**
---
**“Take care, Six.”**
---
I took off the clothes she’d lent me and handed them back.
Then, naked again, I climbed through the side window.
---
This was where my story ended.
But thanks to Seven, it wasn’t where *Ca* ended.
---
**“Welcome back, Ca.”**
**“How’s your condition this year?”**
---
**“Same as always. Since January, I’ve been more prone to catching colds. Cuts take longer to heal, I’ve had some stomach trouble, and mild headaches now and then.”**
---
**“Looks like your cells are reaching their limit again. As expected.”**
**“...You didn’t chop off any fingers this year, right?”**
---
**“Nope.”**
---
The conversation was practically identical to last year’s. A little too identical, honestly. I was starting to think this whole ritual-treatment-whatever thing really *was* mechanical.
And then—just when I thought I was home free—she brought it up.
---
**“Oh, and Ca... I noticed your surname’s changed.”**
---
**“Y-Yeah. I got married.”**
---
**“The man waiting outside... is that your husband?”**
---
**“Yes.”**
---
I tried to stay calm, but there was something off about her tone. Not cold or hostile... but different. And then she hit me with a bombshell:
---
**“Are you planning to have children?”**
---
My blood ran cold.
Children...
I hadn’t really thought about it. But just hearing the question—just *hearing* it—was enough to make my stomach twist.
---
**“I know it’s impolite to ask something like this these days,” she said, softly, “but considering how... unique your treatment is, I thought I should bring it up.”**
---
**“As you already know, your cells lose regenerative capacity after about a year. That includes reproductive cells—your eggs.”**
---
**“So if you were to have a child... they’d need the same treatment every year?”**
---
**“That’s right.”**
---
I wanted to scream.
No.
No way.
Just thinking about it made me want to cry.
---
So this is what Ei—Mg meant when he said he hated the idea of me dying every year.
Now I finally understood.
If this treatment—this “regeneration”—was actually replacing me with a copy, then having a child would mean dragging them into the same hell.
---
And if they inherited this curse...?
If they needed the ritual too...?
---
No.
No way.
I couldn’t do that.
---
**“You okay? You look pale.”**
---
**“Oh, it’s fine,” I lied. “Just... I hadn’t thought that far ahead. But yeah, the idea of a kid catching colds every winter, needing to visit this hospital every year... it *is* scary.”**
---
**“Right? It’s a lot to consider. I just wanted to make sure you knew.”**
---
**“Thanks. I’ll talk to my husband about it.”**
---
That was close.
Way too close.
The doctor seemed kind, and maybe she really did care. But I couldn’t trust anyone who was involved with this place. Not anymore.
And just when I thought it was over...
---
**“Oh, one last thing.”**
---
**“Hmm?”**
---
**“About the anesthesia this year...”**
---
**“...Yes?”**
---
I froze.
Every nerve in my body screamed *danger*.
---
**“Would you like to try skipping it?”**
---
**“...Excuse me?”**
---
My voice cracked.
What was this?
A trap?
Or... a *test*?
---
**“I mean, it’s just... I thought maybe you’d want to *see* what really happens.”**
---
**“W-What do you mean? You always said there were confidentiality rules... am I even *allowed* to know that?”**
---
**“Technically, no,” she said, her tone unreadable. “But I get the feeling you’re... curious.”**
---
**“Why do you think that?”**
---
**“No reason.”**
---
No, there *was* a reason.
She knew.
She *knew* what happened last year. Or at least suspected. Maybe she found my blood trail. Maybe someone saw me re-enter the hospital. Maybe...
Maybe she knew *everything*.
---
But if she *did* know, and she was still letting me go through with it...
Did that mean she was letting me choose?
---
No.
This was too risky.
I couldn’t let myself fall for it.
I had to play dumb.
---
**“Nah, I think I’m good. Curiosity’s one thing, but pain’s another.”**
**“I’ll stick with the usual.”**
---
**“Hehe. Alright, then. Same as always.”**
---
Whew. Barely dodged a bullet there.
If I’d said the wrong thing, she might’ve called security. Or worse—decided I wasn’t trustworthy anymore.
---
**“Just lie down on the table, please.”**
---
**“Got it.”**
---
And that was that.
This was the end of Ca #7.
Time to pass the torch to the next me.
---
**"I'm back," I muttered.**
---
**"Huh? What was that?"**
---
Mg—my husband Ei—looked over at me in confusion as I returned to the hospital waiting room.
It was a little before noon. Right on schedule.
By now, Seven—last year’s me—was probably already lying in that weird ritual room again, unconscious.
---
**"It's nothing. Let's grab lunch."**
---
**"Sure. Then after that, we’ll go see your dad, right?"**
---
**"Yep."**
---
I had to show my face.
Now that I was married and living away from home, it was more important than ever to check in and make time for him.
---
*(A parent’s love, huh...)*
---
I found myself thinking about a child I didn’t even have yet.
Stop it. Just stop.
I can’t. I *won’t*.
If we really want a child someday, we’ll look into adoption, or maybe donor sperm and IVF.
Blood doesn’t define family.
---
For now, I just want to enjoy my time with Ei—to be the best version of Ca I can be.
I’ve been given a whole new life. I’m going to live it to the fullest.
---
*(Even if every memory I have was technically passed on...)*
---
The conversation I had with the doctor earlier suddenly replayed in my mind, clear as day.
I shouldn’t even *have* those memories. They didn’t belong to *this* body.
But they were here, vivid as ever.
---
*(Ugh. Maybe I should’ve said yes to seeing the ritual... No. No no no.)*
---
I want to know, of course I do. But curiosity has to take a back seat.
The most important thing is:
---
**“Don’t let them lose Ca.”**
---
I whispered the words softly.
And just like last year, my voice disappeared into the plain white walls of the hospital.
