Abnormality In Type-Moon: Madness Of Animeverse

"I was sent by Lord Chiyomon to take care of you."

The gentle voice echoed softly in the empty hospital room.

It was a spacious, isolated room with a sterile, isolated atmosphere, free from any sharp objects. Its safety measures rivaled those of VIP rooms in major hospitals before the Great Disaster.

The patient lying in the bed wore a special, semi-transparent silk gown, which draped loosely over his slender frame. Through the fabric, the scars covering his body were visible. They weren't random marks but seemed deliberately patterned, each scar etched with cruel precision.

Most striking of all, his eyes were wrapped in layers upon layers of thick bandages.

"They actually did this to you…"

The voice faltered, trembling with shock. It sounded like a young woman, her tone laced with anger, as though biting back fury.

The patient on the bed couldn't see the person speaking, but from her voice, he guessed she was young.

"Don't worry. I'll stay with you. I'll do anything you need. Let me be your eyes."

"Get out."

He lay there, voice as cold as ice, dismissing her.

"Do you want something to eat? Or… would you rather go to the bathroom first?"

The voice came closer, now right by his bedside.

"I brought some food for you. Here, let me feed you. Open wide…"

He felt something being placed on the table beside his bed. Her tone was gentle, coaxing him to eat with patient encouragement.

For a moment, he remained silent.

Then, without saying a word, he sat up, reaching blindly towards the table. His hand found the food tray.

"I told you to get out. Are you deaf?"

With one sharp motion, he swept the tray off the table, sending it crashing to the floor. Even that simple movement left him breathless.

Though he couldn't see it, the food had splattered everywhere.

The young woman paused, then quietly knelt to pick up the scattered meal, wordlessly placing it in the trash.

"I'll be outside. If you need anything, just call me."

"How about you go die?"

The patient's voice was dripping with malice.

The woman didn't respond. She was silent for a moment, then opened the door and left.

He lay back down on the bed.

With his vision taken from him, his world was trapped in darkness. Anger simmered beneath his skin, and every now and then, he'd violently knock things off the table beside him just to release the pent-up rage.

It was impossible to know how much time passed before the door opened again.

"I brought you a portable music player," the gentle voice spoke again.

Soon after, the unmistakable sounds of a Showa-era song filled the air. He recognized the voice—a famous singer whose songs he vaguely remembered from long ago.

She set the music player at a slight distance, so it wasn't within his reach.

The music drifted through the darkness, softening the silence. It was a small relief, a reminder that he wasn't entirely alone in his shadowed world.

"I also brought you some food. Please, let me feed you. It's been so long since you last ate."

"Leave."

"…If you feel hungry, please call for me. I'll be here."

After a moment of silence, the door clicked shut.

The patient went the entire day without touching a bite.

Later, the magi heard of it and came to check on him.

The next time he regained consciousness, he felt a strange fullness in his stomach.

They had hypnotized him and forced him to eat.

Whatever. It was just another routine.

The next time the young woman brought him a meal, he knocked it over again without hesitation.

"You're only hurting yourself by fighting against the magi. Nothing will change no matter what you do."

Her voice remained gentle, unfazed by his hostility.

"Just think of yourself. Please, eat to stay strong. Living is more important than anything else. As long as you're alive, there's still hope."

Hope? He scoffed.

In the middle of the night, a loud, shrill alarm rang out in the room.

Hearing the sound, the magi abandoned whatever they were working on and rushed over, their steps hurried yet indifferent.

The girl, too, scrambled out of her bed.

"He's tried to end his life again."

"What is that, the fifth time?"

"Who cares? He won't die."

She overheard the magi's cold, callous comments as she arrived outside the room.

Through the open door, she saw him lying on the floor, bleeding profusely, his head smeared with blood. He had tried to bash his head against the wall, but the protective magic circles embedded in the room kept him from succeeding.

This place was a prison, carefully engineered by the magi to trap him. Any disturbance immediately triggered their surveillance spells, alerting them to his every move.

"Locked in this hellhole, only to suffer endlessly. Even at the brink of death, there's no escape… Tell me, where exactly is this 'hope' of yours?"

When he awoke, he sneered, his voice dripping with bitter sarcasm.

The girl clenched her fists tightly, her nails digging painfully into her palms. The sting in her hands was nothing compared to the pain in her heart.

For the first time, doubts crept into her mind about the mission she had been given.

"Don't worry," she whispered, her voice shaking with a strange determination. "I'll be with you… I'll stay by your side, always."

"What good will that do?" He laughed, hollow and cruel.

"Anyone can say that. If you're so sincere, why don't you tell the magi you want to be experimented on too? Then, if you can still say those words with that saintly expression, maybe I'll believe you."

A tense silence hung in the air.

"…Understood."

She stood and left.

Finally given up, have you?

He lay back down, resigned.

He'd been here long enough to stop believing in hope a long time ago.

"Always by my side"? "Hope as long as you're alive"? All just naive words from someone who'd never faced real hell.

No one who had truly suffered would say such things.

The next day.

"I brought you a clock," her gentle voice returned.

"It's alright if you can't see it. I'll tell you the time."

But this time, her voice sounded uncharacteristically weak.

"…What happened to you?"

"They made me undergo an experiment."

"…Are you an idiot?"

He turned his face toward her, shocked.

"You told me to, didn't you? You said that if I went through the same things, you'd believe me."

Her tone was gentle yet unwavering, her sincerity impossible to deny.

"I've kept my promise. Now, will you trust me? I'll stay with you, no matter what."

He was silent for a long time.

Whether he was stunned by her foolishness or something deeper stirred within him, he wasn't sure.

For the first time, he spoke in a calmer tone.

"What's your name?"

It occurred to him he had never even asked her name.

"Eh?"

She was taken aback by the sudden softness in his voice.

"What's your name?" His voice grew impatient.

"If you're really going to stay by my side, I should at least know what to call you, don't you think?"

"You're absolutely right!"

Her voice brimmed with genuine happiness, almost as if she were smiling.

"My name is Jeanne! And yours?"

"…Roy."

The young man replied, his expression cold as ever.

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