My Normal Life Now Has A Choice

Sarine wanted Pleasa’s body bloodied, broken, destroyed mangled and disfigured exactly how Chiho’s body was and more. She called upon her shared strength with Tama (all for Sarine, all as planned), throwing a barrage of attacks until she had Pleasa on the floor.

She might’ve gone through with her threats—until Pleasa pointed, Sarine followed, and saw Tama lying motionless. At once it all vanished, the flames, the wind, the deadly spark in the air. The faerie fled to her partner’s side as she tried, with whatever scraps of strength she still possessed, to heal the dying human.

Pleasa only dared to speak once Sarine collapsed onto Tama’s chest. “You know,” she said, “these devices—the one I put Lavi in—they served another purpose, originally.”

“…”

“Rejuvenation chambers. I keep a spare to recover in on the rare occasion I end up stuck outside too long and end up with a deadly case of frostbite. I think a long rest in one will be more than enough to save your friend.”

“…”

“Listen. I’m hardly unreasonable. You care for this human for…some reason. You work with me for a bit, and I’ll heal her and send her on her merry little way. She’ll have a nice comfortable sleep, hm, perhaps I might even throw in some memory modification? She can have her normal life back. No magic, no dead girls that make her want to kill herself if it means killing me.

“That way—things will be nice and simple. And I won’t need to involve your friend anymore.”

Sarine shook. She knew what she couldn’t say. She knew that, no matter what, through thick or thin, she absolutely couldn’t…

Even. Consider.

The offer.

“…put her in there. Please. I don’t want her to die…”

Pleasa feigned reassurance. So Sarine assumed, watching as the scientist did something to the bed of Dream Seeds before hoisting Tama into the coffin. The door latched closed, and only when Tama was breathing evenly, normally did Sarine come back to Pleasa’s side.

“I’ve modified the seeds—instead of their original purpose, they’ll create memories in her dreams that shall replace all those unneeded ones.” Pleasa smiled. “I’m a woman of my word. If you notice even a single thing off about your little former friend, you can come and let me know. I’ll put everything back into place.”

Sarine shrugged, saying nothing.

“Oh, please. Trust me.”

“…”

“Fine, then. How about this: I need you, I need you more than anything to further my research, but doesn’t it delight you to learn…”

Pleasa strode forth, Sarine following. “I’ll only need you for a moment! Well—not a moment. An hour or so. That’s all.”

“…Huh?”

“Hurry! You’ll see.”

Sarine flew after an eager Pleasa, back up the stairs. Flipping a hidden switch, another staircase rolled out leading higher, where the moon bathed the top with scant amounts of natural light.

Pleasa looked up—two slabs of metal hung off the ceiling, with an odd arrangement of crystals hanging above each. “What is a soul, Sarine?”

“Uh—” A cold chill overtook Sarine. But she had to keep going, unless she wanted Pleasa to dump Tama’s dying body into the cold. “It’s…you? All you are?”

Pleasa stuck a finger in the air. “Incorrect. Honestly, I’ve never heard anything more incorrect in my life. The soul is something little is known about. Yes, we learn about it in the abstract, but have we truly torn into the mechanical bits and bobs of the matter?”

The top of the stairs stopped at a platform. A makeshift elevator carried them up to the slabs, but Pleasa hovered by, procuring a weathered journal instead.

No—a book. A hardcover book.

“You know,” she said, the glint of light living in her eyes, “there are other worlds. Many, many others. You come from another world yourself.”

Sarine nodded. Her unease grew, drip by drip.

“I bought this journal from a stranger who claimed to be a world traveler back when I worked in Society Prime. Oh, a strange one, who said they came from a pocket of pink and distortion. They actually claimed this journal from another individual, they said, with a red lizard-like tail, a snake’s eye and an incredibly disingenuous—oh, nevermind that. Just some entertaining details.”

She flashed the cover; the title and author had been scratched out, though a dedication section mostly ripped bore something readable: —ith — ——est —iarno.

“The contents are most fascinating. They claim the soul isn’t who we are, but merely a battery that keeps us alive until our bodies grow too weak to contain them. It even claims that one can enhance their natural talents by unwinding the delicate make-up of a soul, but even I’m not one to get my hands so dirty.

“No, by that point, I’d already been knee-deep into my research on Special Souls. And hearing the soul itself contained no essence of person-hood, virtually interchangeable from one to the next…”

Sarine glanced at the metal ‘beds’. The moon hit the crystals—just right to make them all come alight. “Then if we trade souls, you won’t notice a difference, will you? I’ll take the power that almost killed your friend, and you can go off and do whatever you like. I’ll continue my studies on my lonesome.”

“But—” Sarine hugged herself. “No—I can’t let you have this—”

“The power you wielded to squeeze that poor girl dry?” Pleasa repeated, gaze narrowed. “If you want to so badly, I’ll hand Ohzora back to you to finish your work. I’ll even count the seconds it takes for you to change your mind. Remember, you put her in that condition. Not me. I didn’t need to do anything.”

“She used you. You used her. That’s your fate; you with a Special Soul. The only way to be relieved of that burden is…”

Pleasa looked above. “This. So? Are you thinking rationally?”

Maybe it should’ve been the other way around.

Maybe, if Sarine gave everything she had to Tama, she might’ve been able to stop Pleasa. Sarine could’ve been the one to die instead, leaving Tama alive—but that was the purpose of a guide. She never should’ve ended up as the important one making these choices while Tama slept, dreamed, forgot.

…She’d forget all of this, huh.

Even Chiho.

Sarine carried the burden of remembering. Maybe that’d be a suitable punishment for all her selfishness.

Pleasa stepped onto the lift—Sarine joined her, flying upwards, taking the light into her hands, begging it’d wash these nightmares away for good and give them something—any semblance of a happy ending.

But maybe that was selfish, too.