The Price of Survival
The hospital room smelled of antiseptic and something else. Something metallic.
Abe couldn't feel his body.
Not because of pain—if anything, he felt too little—but because his mind refused to accept reality.
He stared at the white hospital blanket draped over his legs.
Hands trembling, he slowly pulled it down.
His legs were there. But they weren't his.
His breath hitched as he turned his head.
Beside him, Yoshida Karin lay motionless, her body frail and sickly pale. Her breathing was weak, almost non-existent. And where her legs should have been—only bloodstained bandages remained.
Abe clutched his head.
This isn't real. This isn't real.
But the cold sensation of the hospital floor against his stolen toes told him otherwise.
He was walking on someone else's legs.
"You're still processing it, I see."
The voice was too calm. Too detached for the situation.
Abe's head snapped up, his blood boiling.
Dr. Murase stood at the foot of his bed, watching him with that same clinical amusement, like a scientist observing an experiment.
"Take them back," Abe's voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. "Put them back on her."
Murase sighed, as if tired of hearing such a trivial request. "That would be impossible. The procedure is irreversible. If we attempt another surgery, both of you will die."
Abe's nails dug into his palms. "Then why did you take them from her in the first place?!"
Murase adjusted his glasses. "Because you are the more valuable subject."
Abe froze.
There was something sickening about the way Murase said it.
As if Yoshida had never been a person to begin with.
Just spare parts.
Yoshida suddenly stirred, her voice a mere whisper.
"Abe…kun…"
Abe turned to her instantly, gripping her frail hand. "I'm here."
She smiled weakly. A fragile, broken smile.
"At least… you're okay…"
Abe felt something in his chest shatter.
How?
How could she smile after losing everything?
He wanted to say something—an apology, a promise—but his throat was too dry.
Murase watched them with quiet fascination.
"Interesting," he mused. "Even after losing everything, she still smiles."
Abe's fists clenched.
I'll make them pay for this. I swear.
---
A Prison Without Walls
Two days later, they let him leave the hospital.
But he knew better.
This wasn't freedom.
"Don't misunderstand, Abe-kun," Murase said as he escorted him out. "This isn't a pardon. It's a second chance. Don't waste it."
Abe glared at him, hatred burning behind his eyes.
He wanted to scream. To punch Murase until that smug expression disappeared forever.
But he knew better.
Two men in white coats stood near the entrance.
Not doctors.
Guards.
Murase smiled faintly. "If you attempt to expose what happened… you know what will happen, don't you?"
Abe said nothing.
He already knew.
If he talked, he would be "removed." Just like Yoshida. Just like the other students who had vanished without a trace.
He clenched his jaw and turned away.
---
The World That Forgot
The school gate loomed in front of him like the entrance to a fabricated world.
On the surface, everything was the same.
Students chatted. Laughed. Walked to class like nothing had changed.
But Abe knew better.
Everything had changed.
When he stepped into the classroom, his classmates greeted him.
"Yo, Abe! Long time no see!" Renji grinned.
Abe hesitated. "Family emergency."
Renji nodded, not questioning it. "Well, welcome back, man."
Abe forced a small smile and made his way to his desk.
Then he saw Yoshida's seat.
Empty.
No books. No bag. No signs that anyone had ever sat there.
His stomach twisted.
He turned to his classmates. "Hey… is Yoshida still sick?"
Silence.
Renji blinked. "Yoshida?"
Abe's blood ran cold.
Serin, the girl next to him, frowned. "Who's that?"
Abe's gaze swept across the room.
Nobody reacted.
Nobody even looked confused.
As if the name meant nothing to them.
As if she had never existed.
Abe's fingers dug into the edge of his desk.
They erased her.
Not just physically.
But from everyone's memory.
He bit his lip hard enough to taste blood.
I'm the only one who remembers her.
---
The Devil's Invitation
That night, when he opened his desk drawer, he found a note.
A single line, written in neat handwriting.
"If you want answers, come to the old science lab after dark."
Abe stared at it.
Who wrote this?
Was it a trap?
Or was there someone else out there who knew the truth?
His fists clenched.
I need to find out.
He folded the note, slipping it into his pocket.
If there were answers out there—
I would find them.