"Everything I know about myself is what's written in this notebook." Kasai felt the need to swallow. For the first time - as far as he knew - he was meeting with a shaman.
The old man said, as if he had read his thoughts, "You don't need to tense up. I don't think this is your first time with a shaman. The magic motif I can sense from this notebook is very strong. It's impossible to decipher. For me at least. His gaze as if there was only a transparent glass between it and the fabric of the universe in ancient times." I've heard of cams that can touch the entire universe. But this is the first time I've seen anything like this with my own eyes. In our case there is an opaque substance between us and the fabric of the universe, while some of us talented see the universe through dirty water. Whoever it is was able to see the fabric of the universe completely. It's amazing. Whoever gave this notebook must be a shaman, one of the most talented."
Kasai slowly reached for the notebook. Opened the first page. "Aito gave me this notebook today. I think he wanted me to keep a diary." It did not write any date.
"There is something I don't understand." said Kasai, scratching his head. "If I change places every time I die - swallowed - as it is written in this notebook, why is it written in only one language?"
"I think it's because of magic. The notebook must appear to you in whatever language you use. I'm wondering about something different. Since he gave this notebook to you, he must have known about your situation. It's not possible for you to have said it. He must have sensed it on his own. Something like that." is it possible?"
"Wonderful." He repeated this several more times. He seemed to carry the joy of a small child.
"Can you reproduce this notebook by imitating the motif you say you have detected?"
The shaman smiled. "Unfortunately that is not possible."
"I understand." said Kasai in a low voice. "The notebook is almost finished and I don't know how much time I have."
Kasai hated time. Whether he ran or walked, the road was the same, leading to the same place. There was no point in rushing or enjoying it. Time was the biggest thing he couldn't make sense of. Kasai hated time because it never ends for him.
The shaman stood up when the clocks that covered the four wings began to resound inside the tent with ticking sounds. It was time for education. "I have to go. Nice to meet you, Mr. Kasai. I hope you'll be around for a long time." he said, smiling. He accompanied Kasai until prostration.
When Kasai left the tent, he couldn't help but look back. It was a huge red tent. Would soon be overflowing with students. With shaman candidates. With those who have particles like himself. Kasai knew he was not like them. His strength was useless. It was more of a curse than a power. It was only revealed when he died. When he died, the atoms that formed him were re-formed elsewhere. This was in the notebook. He did not know how he came to this conclusion, but he had no choice but to believe everything written in the notebook. He began to advance on the steppe stretching as far as he could get. He felt more alone than ever before. He must have lived tens, hundreds of lives, and all he knew about them was a little magical notebook. He couldn't remember anyone he loved. He would lose those he loved now, and he would forget those he loved in the future. everything was fading, except for Kasai's body. He would be here for a long time. he was cursed. It was the only plausible explanation. Kasai felt his pocket, looked for a pen. Unfortunately there wasn't. if it was, he would write down today's date and say, "I realized that I was cursed today."
The sound of the trampling grass under his feet comforted him. He lifted his head, looked the orange-hued sky for a while. Who knows what color the sky was in other worlds? He must have seen them many times before. but he couldn't remember. his mind was like a blank slate. He would forget the orange sky, too, the shaman, and his current self. Of course, he changed every time. He was never the same person. If his notebook wasn't nearly finished, he could write down the color of the sky on every waking planet. Did he always wake up on different planets? Had he ever woken up on the same planet? Did he ever have a family? Had he ever loved a woman or perhaps a man? It had only been a month since he had woken up by the water on this planet called the world he had never known. Does he always wake up by the water? Did it have a certain meaning? Maybe he could write down where he woke up. He later realized that it wouldn't make any sense. Nohing he had written in the notebook before made any sense to him now. He did not know how many times he had sought solutions to these questions, how many times he had reached the same conclusion.
He paused when he saw that he had come to the river where he had woken up a month ago. It was as if a mystical power had passed him over here. It is possible to have such thoughts immediately after talking to a shaman.
He looked at his reflection in the water. Long, black hair, sharp eyebrows, high cheekbones greeted him. He wondered if his face didn't always stay the same. life on other planets must have looked different. Did the curse he had fit in with that? Or was the universe not as diverse as he thought? took a deep breath. His head was full of questions. He didn't want to deal with any of them right now. All he wanted was to fill his stomach. He started walking towards the town with the questions he was trying to get rid of.