Maybe people didn't realize we looked alike-my cheeks were hollow and I look different now.

  But he knew.

  When he looked up this time-

  His smile told me that.

  CHAPTER 4 - THE MAN WEARING MY FACE

  What is this place?

  The more people I meet, the less I understand.

  And now-

  I stare at the man wearing my face.

  He knows something.

  I need to talk to him-

  "HEY! ARE YOU IGNORING MEEEEE?!"

  A voice-too close, too loud.

  I barely had time to react before-

  Ouch!

  A sharp pain shot through my arm.

  Something bit me.

  Bit me?!

  I snapped my head to the side.

  And there she was-grinning as she sank her teeth into my arm.

  I yanked my arm away.

  "What the hell are you doing?!"

  Grace pouted, arms crossed like a child caught stealing candy. "Hmph. You ignored me. I was introducing myself! It's Rudee you know."

  I stared at her, half in shock, half in disbelief.

  "...So you bit me?"

  She huffed, turning her head away like she hadn't just committed assault with her teeth.

  I exhaled, pressing my fingers against my temple. Focus.

  I turned back-

  Gone.

  My stomach twisted. No. He was there. A second ago, I saw him.

  I shot up from my seat, scanning the area. Nothing. Not even a shadow.

  My pulse pounded in my ears. I missed something. A clue. A chance to understand what's going on.

  I turned to Grace. "You saw him, right? You were staring at him just a moment ago."

  She blinked, then tilted her head. "Ehh? What are you talking about? Oh-him? Yeah, hehe. Well... it's 'cause you guys are more similar than you know."

  My jaw clenched.

  So he's real.

  Relief washed over me. I'm not imagining things.

  But before I could push for answers, I noticed the shift in her expression.

  Her gaze lowered to her feet, her fingers tightening against the edge of the table.

  Sadness.

  "He doesn't talk to anyone anymore," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. "When I first came here... he was different. I thought he really cared. He made this place feel safe—like I wasn't alone."

  She hesitated, fingers gripping the edge of the table.

  "But then... one day, he just stopped. Stopped talking to me. Stopped talking to anyone. He locked himself away. Never comes out. We barely see him anymore."

  Her voice wavered, her gaze drifting to the floor.

  "I tried. More than anyone. I was the closest to him... or at least, I thought I was. But no matter what I said, no matter how much I tried to reach him—he wouldn't talk back. Wouldn't even look at me."

  She swallowed hard, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

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  "It hurt so bad that... I had to stop trying."

  She laughed softly, but it was hollow—like a love letter burned before it could ever be read.

  Her words hung in the air like an open wound.

  For a moment, I almost felt bad for asking.

  It sounded less like she was stating a fact—and more like she was sharing her first heartbreak.

  She went tracing the floor for a few seconds, clenching her fist hard.

  But then—

  A sudden spark of energy lit up her face.

  She straightened, eyes gleaming, a grin stretching across her lips.

  "Hey, you know what his name is?"

  I frowned at the sudden shift. "No. What is it?"

  She giggled. "Ummm... maybe you should ask him yourself! Hehe, that would be better."

  I narrowed my eyes. "Why would that be better?"

  Instead of answering, she grabbed a nearby glass of water and chugged it down. Then, ever so slightly, she glanced at me-almost like she was asking if I wanted some.

  I shook my head. "No, I'm good."

  She slammed the glass down with a satisfied sigh, wiped her mouth with her sleeve, and-

  Locked her arm around mine.

  "Alright! Let's go!"

  "What? Where?"

  She grinned. "To the doctor, of course! We gotta check out those cuts. Even though they don't look infected, you never know!"

  I pulled back slightly. "That's not really necessary. I actually feel better now-"

  She stopped.

  Her grip tightened.

  When she turned to face me again, her smile was gone.

  In its place-a cold, serious stare.

  The sudden shift caught me off guard. I almost laughed-it didn't suit her.

  But then she spoke.

  "Look," she said, her voice dropping to something colder-something real. "Nothing in this place is fine. You can never predict it. Never understand it. And you can never be too careful."

  The sharpness in her tone cut through the air like a blade.

  "I know you're new, and I don't wanna be hard on you after everything you've been through," she continued, her gaze locking onto mine. "But if you're not careful, you won't survive."

  The weight of her words crashed into me, heavier than I expected.

  So she's not clueless after all.

  She knows.

  She's just been pretending not to.

  She knows this place is dangerous.

  She knows.

  She just doesn't show it.

  And in that moment, the cuteness faded like a dark cloud swallowing the sky.

  I saw it-the pain, the suffering-her desperate attempt to hold on to whatever was left of herself so she wouldn't break.

  But who was I to judge?

  I felt the same way.

  She started walking again, still holding onto me, and for once-

  I didn't mind.

  On the way, a thought gnawed at the edges of my mind.

  Why is she helping me?

  Even with the weight of her own pain, she still chooses to help others.

  Most people hesitate-even when they can. Self-preservation. Indifference. Fear. But her? She doesn't even stop to think. She just gives. Without asking for anything in return.

  So selfless.

  I can feel it she's fragile. Vulnerable.

  Yet she throws herself into the fire without hesitation.

  And suddenly-

  A surge of protectiveness crashed over me.

  A fierce, unshakable need to shield her. To guard her from whatever horrors this world had in store.

  Because if not for her... if not for her warmth, her laughter, her maddening, relentless energy-

  I don't know if I'd still be standing.

  She made me smile in a place that swallows joy whole.

  This world needs her.

  I need her.

  Lost in thought, I almost didn't notice when we stopped.

  We arrived at our destination.

  I looked up.

  The doctor's house was different from the rest.

  A real house. Built from bricks and stone. A proper door. Locks.

  The most developed place I'd seen here.

  There was no doorbell.

  Grace banged on the door-three times.

  "HARO? Anyone theeeere? HAROOO?"

  I blinked.

  ...Did she just say haro? She used R instead of L, just like in Japanese phonetics.

  I hadn't noticed it before-maybe because I was too disoriented-but now, as I listened to her speak, the subtle details stood out. Her accent, her tone, the way she stretched certain words, pressing R in place of L... even the way she carried herself.

  She must be Japanese-or at least partly.

  The door swung open.

  A man stood in the doorway, early twenties, clean-shaven, crisp white shirt tucked into black pants.

  Socks, but no shoes.

  His sharp glare locked onto us.

  Grace beamed. "Oh! Doctor Lenny! We have a new-"

  "How many times," he snapped, "do I have to tell you to STOP BANGING ON THE DAMN DOOR?!"

  His whole body radiated pure frustration. "This is a GOD DAMN Hospital for Christ's sake.?! "

  Grace pouted. "Ehhhh, but it's only a hospital if there are patients in it, right? Right, Black?"

  I wasn't sure what to say.

  Technically... she had a point.

  Tch. Lenny clicked his tongue, rubbing his temple. "Never mind. You-new kid-come in. I'll take a look at you."

  Grace cheered. "Okay!"

  Lenny's eyebrow twitched.

  "Not you."

  "Eh?"

  "You'd only annoy me more."

  Grace gasped. "Hey! That's not fair! I'm his guide! He wouldn't go in without me, right, Black?"

  Her eyes sparkled with playful innocence.

  Lenny sighed, clearly regretting every life choice that led him to this moment.

  Then-

  He grabbed my arm and yanked me inside.

  The door slammed shut.

  I barely had time to process what just happened before I heard her muffled whining from outside.

  Lenny sighed. "I'm sorry, but Grace-I just can't work around her. She's too annoying."

  I didn't argue.

  He crossed his arms.

  "I'm Doctor Lenny. As you might have noticed, I'm the only doctor here. A blessing for you, but a curse for me."

  His voice was sharp, but there was something else beneath it.

  Determination.

  "But I don't regret being here. If I wasn't, many would've died painful deaths. I don't get to choose the people I save. For me, everyone is equal-it doesn't matter what I have to do. Where I have to do it, I just do it."

  His words carried weight.

  He wasn't just a doctor.

  He was a soldier.

  I felt a growing respect for him.

  He looked at me, waiting.

  Right. My turn.

  "I'm Black."

  The moment I said it, Lenny twitched.

  The same strange reaction.

  The same one Grace had.

  But why?

  Even though I and the mystery man look alike, my face now is different-hollow, sunken. Even I wouldn't recognize myself.

  So why did he look at me like that?

  Oh. A sudden realisation

  It's the name.

  He doesn't just look like me.

  He has my name, too.

  And just like that-

  I knew.

  That man... the one who looks like me...

  We're not just similar.

  We're the same.