Just outside of my unit, I reminisced on my conversation with Connie earlier at Alente Bistro. To be honest, his reaction was unexpected. I would imagine that someone would normally act more panicked or concerned when they hear about someone housing a potentially dangerous stranger, but instead, Connie was calm and reacted as if he condoned it.
Take responsibility for Camryn, huh? Since I have no reason to, I will not decline Connie’s wish. I think caring for her should be rather easy. I mean, it will just be enough if I provide her with food, shelter, and protection and address any issues she has, right? I realize that over the span of her staying here, I have not interacted with her much. I think the reason is that I am not really the type of person to willingly interact with others; I am fine if someone starts talking to me, but I am not the type of person to start a conversation for fun. I mean, it is unnecessary, right? Since I will start seriously caring for Camryn, I should change my habits.
Connie said Camryn was foolish, right? Does… Does he mean she is being affected by personal feelings? I do not know, but that is my definition of foolish.
I opened the door and walked inside. Oddly, Camryn did not rush to the door to welcome me with an “Ah, I missed you so much! Welcome home!” In fact, the whole place was darker than how it has been recently. Maybe she is in the guest room? No, the lights do not seem to be on there.
“Um, Camryn? I am back.”
I called out to her, but there was no response. While holding the box of donuts, I took off my shoes and entered the guest room — no one was there. Okay, maybe she is in the bathroom. I knocked on the door, but there was no response. I saw that it was unlocked, so I opened the door.
It was dark inside and no one was there. Is she perhaps taking a shower? No, I do not hear the water running, and inside was dark. To make sure, I went to check, and as I predicted, no one was there.
Where could she be? Could she be on the balcony? If so, why would she be there? Well, she might be enjoying the view of the city — a high-up view of Tronito is rather cool. But after the week she has been staying here, wouldn’t the sight have become stale? If she is not sightseeing, what other purpose is there for being on my barren balcony? Hm… Other than the view, the only thing I can think of about the balcony is its height — a fall from this height would be fatal.
I left the bathroom and turned the lights on in the main area. As I went towards the balcony, I was stopped when I noticed something on the dining table. A piece of paper? I did not leave that when I left. I walked towards it instead. Beside it was a black pen, but not just any pen. It was one that I intended to throw away because it broke and uses too much ink, making writing dry slower. There was also a small stack of bills. Is this… the money that I gave to Camryn? It was the exact amount I gave.
This is… a note from Camryn. She does not have a phone, so I suppose this makes sense. I put the box of donuts down and picked up the note and read it:
Heya Mr Morales,
I want to greatly thank you for all you’ve done for me. Now, I am leaving — I thought that it’d be better if I left a note informing you of that. You are so intelligent and have a clean condo, so I think you will do okay without me.
See ya, Camryn.♡
So Camryn is leaving, huh? If that is her personal choice, I do not think I should stop her…
It was currently sometime in the evening. I was not sure what the exact time was, but it was still a bit bright out.
I was currently sitting curled up in the depths of an alleyway. I hated this place — the walls were boring shades of brown and grey, thrown-out cigarette butts littered the ground around me, and I was in front of a dumpster. I was appalled by the horrendous aromas that were produced by a lot of things here. Although my nose was still being assaulted, I covered it with my shirt because even the dull smell of Mr Morales’ laundry detergent was better.
But there was one thing that brightened up this gloomy place. Above the dumpster in front of me was an interesting-looking piece of graffiti. Basically, it was a picture of a cartoonish blue canary with a four-digit number on its chest giving a brooding stare. I thought this painting was rather neat because one, canaries aren’t usually blue, and two, the canary's stare made it look cool. I smiled scantily at the picture.
I made the right decision to leave Mr Morales. One reason is that being in that condo only served to weaken me. Why does the smell of trash make me want to cover my nose when it would usually just bother me? Why does the smell of cigarettes make me want to vomit when it would usually just be a disturbance to me? This is what I mean when I say that being in that condo only served to weaken me. I know where I belong — the streets. Returning is inevitable to me, so I can’t afford to allow my strength, senses, and limits to dwindle. This is the reason why whenever I stay at someone’s place, I try to keep my stay at a bare minimum amount of days.
I sighed… I really wish I had my suitcase with me right now…