Chapter 11 — Tora’s POV

This chapter was a nightmare to write…

My first time writing from Tora’s perspective. There are probably a lot of weird parts, but I’d be happy if you could read it with a generous heart…

I didn’t know what love was.

The love parents were supposed to give their children was nothing more than a fairy tale to me—something people talked about, but that didn’t actually exist.

I knew I hadn’t been born wanted.

Anyone could have seen the difference in how our parents treated me and my older brother.

I wanted love.

I wanted a life where someone loved me.

Not the kind of love spoken casually.

Not half-hearted affection.

I wanted the unconditional love a parent gives a child.

But as I grew older, I realized something.

That kind of thing didn’t exist.

That’s why, when she first appeared before me, I thought she was a hallucination created by my own wishes.

At first, I couldn’t understand what was happening.

The girl standing in front of me looked at me with tears in her eyes and told me she loved me.

Plenty of girls had told me they liked me before.

But for some reason, her words struck straight through my chest.

Everything she said felt different from every confession I’d ever heard.

Maybe she was just some crazy girl rambling nonsense.

I’d never met anyone like her before.

Maybe she was some creepy stalker.

Part of me thought that.

But every word that came out of her mouth was something I’d wanted to hear my entire life.

Maybe that’s why.

Even after she ran away, I couldn’t move.

All I could do was watch her shrinking figure disappear into the distance.

“Thank you for being born.”

Those words echoed endlessly inside my head.

No one had ever said that to me before.

My birth had been nothing more than a whim to my parents.

After that, I was just… something that existed nearby.

No one had ever been grateful that I was born.

I had spent my entire life unable to feel that I truly existed.

And yet those words from a complete stranger made me feel alive.

Something warm spread through my chest.

It wasn’t the feeling I got from fighting.

It wasn’t the feeling I got from sleeping with women.

It was something entirely different.

Something inside me was finally being filled.

Unable to understand that unfamiliar sensation, all I could do was clench my fists.

After that day, I found myself looking for her.

It wasn’t as though I’d consciously decided to search.

My eyes simply sought her out on their own.

I wanted to talk to her again.

Why had she said those things to me?

Had someone asked her to?

Was there some ulterior motive?

Deep down, I already knew the words she’d spoken on that rooftop hadn’t been forced.

Still, I needed to know.

Because maybe—

Just maybe—

She could give me the thing I’d always wanted.

I’d given up on hope a long time ago.

Or at least I thought I had.

But the feeling that had smoldered inside me all these years finally caught fire, growing larger with each passing day.

I knew what would happen.

I knew that hoping would only get me hurt.

I knew I’d regret it later.

I’d experienced it before.

But apparently…

I hadn’t completely given up.

The warmth I’d felt that day proved it.

When I finally found her, my brain felt like it trembled.

Was it happiness?

I don’t know.

I chased after her before she could run away and forced her to talk to me.

Normally, I would’ve never chased a girl.

But looking back now, I know that decision wasn’t a mistake.

I already thought she was strange.

Turns out she was even crazier than I imagined.

I was honestly impressed by how effortlessly words poured out of her.

And every single one of those words was about me.

Nothing else.

Only me.

She never tried to force her ideals onto me.

She never placed expectations on me.

She simply acknowledged my existence.

She saw me as a person.

The confession everyone else would’ve called abnormal—

The love everyone would’ve called excessive—

Slowly filled the empty vessel inside me.

Maybe that’s why my true feelings slipped out.

I wanted more of her words.

I wanted those eyes that looked only at me.

The girl who stared at me and whispered nothing but love felt like the perfect toy made solely for my convenience.

And even though she wasn’t mine, I found myself desperately unwilling to give her to anyone else.

Everything she said felt good.

No matter what I did, she accepted me without complaint.

She always put me first.

Having that toy close at hand satisfied me.

And her actions were overflowing with love too.

If I touched her even slightly, she’d react so strongly she looked ready to cry.

Words could be lies.

But flushed cheeks.

Trembling hands.

Tears.

That kind of performance would require an incredible actress.

And she looked far too stupid for that.

That’s how I knew it was real.

At first, that was enough.

But gradually, unfamiliar emotions began piling up inside me.

My way of thinking started changing.

I learned that meaningless conversations could be fun.

I learned that simple greetings could make me happy.

Even though I had nothing to give her in return, she kept pouring endless love onto me.

I thought that was incredible.

The dry wasteland inside my heart slowly became nourished.

But whenever I imagined losing it, terror froze my body solid.

The thought of her talking to another man scared me.

I knew what it meant to fear loss.

But the love I’d never experienced before gradually transformed into a monstrous, shapeless fear.

Even so…

Once I’d tasted another person’s love, I couldn’t stop wanting more.

It was like a drug.

No matter how much I received, it never felt like enough.

I wanted more.

I wanted to be filled even further.

My heart screamed for it.

Even though I should’ve already been satisfied.

Whenever that happened, I’d call her.

Middle of the night.

Didn’t matter.

Especially after fights.

I wonder if she knows how many times she saved me.

How many times she woke up just to answer my calls.

That’s why, on that day—

The day I saw her walking beneath an umbrella beside a man I didn’t know—

It felt like someone smashed a blunt weapon into my head.

I know how selfish that sounds.

I filled my heart with her love.

And when I wanted physical warmth she couldn’t give me, I got it from other women.

She had every right to complain.

Yet she never did.

She accepted everything I did.

That should’ve made me happy.

But sometimes…

It just made me sad.

For my sake.

She loved someone like me with everything she had.

I thought she was an idiot.

There had to be better men out there.

Why me?

Seriously.

What an idiot.

I started worrying.

If she stayed by my side, would those beautiful eyes someday become stained?

Would that pure heart become dirty?

She seemed to think I was some kind of god.

At first I just thought she was stupid.

But now…

I think I finally understand how she feels.

Before I knew it, the toy I’d imagined had become a real person.

Someone who wrapped herself around me and embraced me completely.

Once I realized that, I couldn’t think of her as a convenient toy anymore.

Maybe that’s why I told her.

Before it was too late.

I told her I was using her feelings.

I thought she’d reject me after hearing that.

And honestly…

That would’ve been fine.

My heart was already full enough.

I could’ve let her go.

But instead…

She swallowed her own feelings and said:

“As long as I can stay by your side, that’s enough.”

What an idiot.

And I’m an idiot too.

I know what I feel isn’t romantic love.

I’m just dependent on her.

That’s all.

But while she still loves me…

I want to answer those feelings.

I want to protect her.

I don’t really understand romance.

Even so…

I want to fall in love with her.

Not with anyone else.

With her.

I want to look into her eyes and tell her I love her—not out of dependence, but from the bottom of my heart.

I’d never loved anyone before.

A man who didn’t even know what love was until recently shouldn’t be thinking something like that.

And yet…

I was.