From the moment I woke up in this world...
I was already broken.
Shattered by a past life that left me drowning in shame.
I was scared—terrified—of anything remotely human.
But even then, somehow, I still had hope.
Maybe... just maybe, this life would be different.
My last life was misery incarnate, plagued by a kind of luck so cursed it almost felt personal.
I always ended up on the losing side. Every. Single. Time.
A crybaby.
A pathetic, stupid crybaby.
I tried to be different. Tried to numb myself.
Even back when it all started—with my stepmother.
I really tried.
I killed every ounce of emotion just so it wouldn't hurt.
Pretended nothing mattered.
But in the end, I'd always end up curled in the darkest corner of the room... crying, while everyone else slept.
Dad hated me.
Said I killed Mom.
That my birth stole the love of his life.
Hypocritical bastard.
If he loved her so much, why cheat?
Why bring another woman into the picture before the dust of that "happy marriage" even settled?
He already had a kid with that other woman.
A woman I grew to hate more than I hated him—or even myself.
He didn't care that she mistreated me.
Sometimes, it even felt like he enjoyed it.
...Fuck.
I feel like crying again.
Stupid. This is so stupid.
I should be a man.
I shouldn't let it show.
They say men who cry are weak.
Idiots.
But still...
Every night, I find myself staring into a mirror, crying.
Crying like a fool.
CRYING LIKE AN IDIOT.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Why?
Why am I so weak?!
Why do I care so much?!
Why does it feel like my emotions are stuck on full volume—never turning down?!
I hate it.
I hate the tears.
I hate the weakness they make me feel.
I hate how they shatter whatever little confidence I manage to scrape together each morning.
But I still cry.
I cry.
I fucking cry.
God, I hate myself.
...Then there was Emilia.
She wrecked me.
Poisoned my heart.
Just thinking about her makes it hard to breathe.
sigh
Maybe Dad was right.
Maybe I really am a curse.
It happened again.
A new life... and another death.
I was told the woman who gave birth to me in this world died doing so.
At this point, I can't call it coincidence.
sobs
Crying? Again?
What kind of pathetic mess am I?
I can't even stop myself.
sobs
I—I'm not meant for this.
I just want the pain to end.
I just want to stop suffering.
sobs
It hurts.
It really hurts.
It's like I was made this emotional... just to suffer more deeply.
But life wasn't completely black.
There was still some grey.
The pre-academy...
Friends—or people who seemed like friends.
I smiled a lot back then.
Felt something I never had in my past life.
A semblance of a family that cared.
Not some deranged psycho pretending to love me.
sigh
Fuck.
sobs
I hate her.
I hate her so much.
And then came the Goddess.
She made it very clear—I had no future in this world.
The story had its canon.
Events would unfold no matter what I did.
Death waited for me.
She offered me a way out.
Not peace, but purpose.
If I followed her orders, did as she said... I wouldn't die meaninglessly.
She promised me something I never had—freedom.
That's when I realized:
I'd never been free.
Not as Noel.
Not as Azalea.
So, I gambled it all.
I said yes.
And like a fool, I still saved those ungrateful bastards—again and again.
sobs
I'm stupid.
They called me stupid.
They were right.
Because I knew.
I knew I didn't belong here.
I knew they'd hate me.
Eventually.
I saw it coming.
I FUCKING KNEW.
Yet.
Yet.
YET.
sigh
Reality's a bitch.
I get it now, Luke.
I get it.
Maybe deep down, I hoped—really hoped—it wouldn't end this way.
That they'd have my back.
That they'd pull me back from the edge.
That they'd be friends.
But they didn't.
They never did.
I cared too much.
That's the cruel truth.
Don't get too involved.
I did.
And it broke me.
FUCKING STUPID IDIOT.
I hope I die.
I hope I don't make it.
I hope I disappear.
Maybe if I vanish, the pain will go with me.
...…
"Ahhh..."
My mouth hangs open.
Saliva drips down my chin.
I feel... nothing.
Not even the pain.
How long has it been?
Ten days? Twenty?
sobs
There it is again.
The crying.
But I don't feel anything.
So why the tears?
Is my subconscious crying for me now?
Heh. Pathetic.
Even my subconscious is weak.
My memory's starting to fade.
Mind slipping into static.
I'm breaking.
Finally.
Creak.
I hear the door.
I don't look.
No need to.
She's here again.
But I'm not afraid anymore.
I guess fear only exists when pain does.
And I'm numb now.
Beyond pain.
Beyond fear.
"Azalea."
Her voice cuts through the silence.
I close my eyes.
Go ahead.
Do it.
Get it over with, you sadistic bitch.
You'd better pray I die.
Because if I live—
And if I ever meet the devil—
I will sell my soul
if it means killing you all.