I waited for the rage, hatred, and sadness to overwhelm me once again. But, apart from a little surprise and disappointment, I mostly felt numb. After the little brawl in the toilet, I've let go of the last bit of hope, expectations, and good feeling I have towards Chris.
It took two lives and a badly beaten body to realize the true nature of that scum. I don't think I should waste any more emotion on that good for nothing man. Nothing good will come out of it. It'll be a waste of my time and tears.
The little me in my brain has given up analyzing the things Edgar just revealed. She just started cleaning up the mess and put out the remaining fire in my brain. She then proceeded to sit in the corner to meditate. Ignoring worldly matters entirely. Devoting herself to achieve inner peace.
As if a switch has been flicked, everything around me went silent. I can see Edgar opening and closing his lips. Obviously saying something with a guilty expression plastered on his face. But I can't seem to hear any sound at all. Either I've reached the rarely achieved state of tranquility, or my selective hearing is acting up again.
Ignoring Edgar to the side, I just sat motionlessly on the bed, staring into space. One question suddenly pops into my mind.
Why did "they" let me return?
Was it so I can get my revenge? They should've given me the means to do so if that was the case then. A golden finger that can ensure my victory. An upgraded IQ, endless wealth, travel back in time, etc. My story would be much more interesting then. I can even give out a few satisfying face slapping scenes. But instead, all I got is this full of defect handsome body...
Was it so I can start anew? That was all I wished for. To start from the bottom at a restaurant and work my way up to be a chef. When I finally saved up enough, I'll open my own establishment and enjoy my day cooking good food for all the foodies like me out there. Perhaps, on one faithful day, a lady would be charmed by the food I made and my personality. We would fall in love, start dating, get married, and have our own kids. Fast forward to 40 or 50 years after that, we would then die of old age. Peacefully. But remembering my current identity and how deep in a tangled mess I was with the Hills, to start anew doesn't seem to be the case either...
Was it to teach me a lesson? Have I somehow offended those above? Have my brazen act of worship towards tall and handsome beings angered them enough for them to start banding together and smite me? It sure feels so right now. Nothing good seems to come out of involving myself with handsome men. Starting a business with Edgar managed to put me on a wanted list. While entangling with Chris ended up killing me. The lessons seemed to bear fruit. I can feel the faith I cultivated over the years wavers a little.
So, why did "they" let me return?
I was suddenly reminded of the Hills. It was the only thing that connects Dakota and Aaron. Both of us seemed to be involved directly or indirectly with them and became a victim. Was I supposed to do something about this economic giant? But what can I do? I'm a mere weed in their backyard right now. Even as Dakota, I won't be able to hurt a hair on their head.
After my transmigration, Edgar is the person I have most of the contact with. We have somehow upgraded our superior subordinate professional relationship to bros who I can depend and leech on until I get back on my feet. Remembering the day we met at my grave, I can't help but feel like everything was fated. I was meant to meet Edgar there and maybe lend him a hand...
Pulling back my dazed gaze, I turned my head to look at Edgar. Somehow he has slumped into the chair. He covered the upper half of his face with his two big palms. Leaving a triangular space in between. The tip of his nose was tinged with the color red. His lower lips quiver a little. Although unnoticeable, after observing intently, I can see that his shoulder shook too.
???
After finally achieving nirvana, various sounds start to travel into my ears once more. Amidst the calm ambiance of the room, a muffled sob sound particularly eye catching to my ears. I was honestly surprised. Opening my mouth, I slowly inquired, "Are you...crying?"
I received no response. And so I asked again, "What's wrong?"
This is the first time for me to see a man cry right in front of me. And he was holding back the cry so much, to the point of making his entire body shook. To see this bear like of a man crying so pitifully is really tugging at my heart.
"Edgar?" I called out softly while reaching out to his left arm with my painful casted hand. I then gave it a gentle tug. This is all I could do with this wasted hand for now.
Feeling my movement, Edgar lifts his head with a fwip. He quickly rises from the chair and gently places my hovering casted hand on my lap. Sternly admonishing, "What are you doing? You shouldn't move your hand right now. If you need something, just let me know."
In our current position, I have to crane my neck to meet Edgar's gaze. I can see the rim of his eyes has turned red and puffed. Trails of tears still linger on his face. I can't help but feel troubled at this sight. Lifting my left hand, I ran my thumb on his cheek to wipe his face dry. "Tell me. What's wrong?"
As if the gate of the dam has been broken, his already slowed tears once again rushed down his cheeks upon my questioning. Clutching my left hand that is still caressing his cheek with his right hand, gaze lowered, he asked hoarsely. "Don't you hate me?"
"Why should I?"
"...It was because of me that you died." He answered in a small voice. Like a little kid, afraid of incurring the wrath of his parents.
I was stunned at his answer. I remember him saying the same thing before my mind starts wandering. Lowering my left hand to clung to his waist, I ignored the stabbing pain on my rib as I push my body forward to give this bear a comforting hug and buries my face on his chest. Within that familiar scent of fabric softener, I assured him tenderly, "It wasn't your fault. Stop saying that."
Edgar was quiet once again, but his whole body trembled even harder within my embrace this time. The hands gently circling my shoulders tightens even more. I kept on repeating "It wasn't your fault" and "It's alright. I'm fine now." over and over again. While Edgar kept muttering "I'm really sorry." repeatedly.
Patting Edgar's back with a coaxing "There. There.", I can't help but think that if I have to blame someone, it would definitely not be Edgar. I would blame myself first before I could blame anyone else. Blame me for being a fool. For my failure to see the schemes people around me cook up right in front of me, for being blinded by love. There's more to it, but you get the gist of it.
If it's time for you to go, it's time to go. Everyone will die eventually. I guess Dakota was just fated to die young. I've long accepted this fact. I was just lucky to have another chance at life. Although I slightly curse System 666 for its extreme mismanagement, I'm still thankful inside.
At least, in this second chance of life, I finally found a friend worth sacrificing myself over.