CHAPTER 225: REASONS AND LIES

"Shizune, here’s your wheelchair," Maya says as she enters the room with a wheelchair, an unusually elegant one for a wheelchair.

It’s not really anything special, just a regular wheelchair, but the material seems to be of strange quality for a simple wheelchair. Even the wheel rims appear to be silver.

The part where Maya holds it also seems to be made of mahogany, a relatively expensive, durable, and elegant wood.

"Do you need help?" She asks as I shake my head no, getting up from the bed and taking dragging steps to the wheelchair, holding the armrest to gently sit down.

"Maya, what’s wrong with me?" I ask as she moves the wheelchair towards the door.

"What do you mean, Shizune?" She asks, opening the door and wheeling me out, closing it with a small click.

"I... I’m not sure what to say, but I’m hearing voices, colors hurt my eyes, and I feel ’tired’ when I walk," I tell her, and she nods.

"You don’t have anything wrong, Shizune. You’re perfect, you’re just going through a difficult time," Maya says as I take in the unexpected sight not the white hospital corridor I expected, but a fancy one with wooden floors and white concrete walls with wood paneling at the bottom, and a pleasant, floral scent, very different from my room.

’A mansion?’ This reminds me more of a mansion than a hospital, even the windows in the corridor have an elegant wooden pattern, something hospitals normally don’t have.

"Maya, where am I really?" I ask as she starts moving through the corridors. I try to look out the windows, but the glare is so intense and blinding that it hurts my eyes, the jumble of colors not letting me see.

’White, brown, and black... the colors that hurt my eyes the least.’ The white walls, the brown wood, and the black wheelchair don’t hurt my vision, which is great.

"...Shizune, don’t you really remember anything?... How much do you remember?" She says, now very concerned.

"...Nothing, I don’t remember anything at all," I say, and she stops the wheelchair, causing a slight jolt.

"Nothing at all?"

"Nothing." I truly have no memory of this world, but I feel something strange that must be linked to my personality.

"Shizune, I can have this conversation with you as many times as needed, but... are you ready to hear what I have to say?" She speaks as if we’ve had this conversation numerous times.

"Of course..." I say with suspicion, after seeing that absurdly disgusting color, I don’t trust anything in Maya.

"Shizune, you have [Psychotic Disorders]," she says, which can be summarized as me having schizophrenia, making me bite my lips, as it would explain why I hear voices, colors hurt my eyes, and I supposedly lose my memory.

"Your condition is relatively manageable, as long as it’s treated properly, you can live a normal life... and I’m here to take care of you and prevent you from getting hurt," she says as I put the pieces of this puzzle together.

"My parents..."

"They abandoned you here... it may be horrible to hear, but... they didn’t want someone who would tarnish their ’luxurious image’, so they gave you this isolated place, hired me, and left you with nothing but a monthly allowance."

"They didn’t even hire any staff, so in short, you live here, I take care of everything, food, cleaning... and your sweets..."

"Medications," I interrupt her, there’s no point in lying, those aren’t sweets.

"Medications... yes, they’re medications for your head, they help you maintain a stable mind, but you have many variable symptoms that require many different medications."

"But they’re all strong medications, so there’s no way for you to take everything you need, which ultimately limits me to giving you specific types for the conditions that are happening at the moment."

"The colors of the medications are for me to know exactly what to give you at each moment, each sweet is made in a manipulated way in a laboratory and arrives here by order, that’s why the colors are always my choice so I know what to give you."

"Also... at 13, you hated the word ’medications’, so to get you to take them again, I had to come up with something, in the end you only started taking them again when I had them made to taste like strawberry and lied, telling you they were sweets."

’13 years old... how long...’ I look at my mature body, the body of a girl around 23 to 26 years old, in the prime of her life, which means she’s been taking care of me for a good while.

"You... how long have you been taking care of me?" I ask, and she makes a pained expression.

"I’ve been taking care of you since you were 7 years old, and I was 13... I needed the money to pay for my mother’s treatment, and the job as your caretaker paid well... but there’s a really abusive contract." I decide to ask what was in the contract.

"What was in your contract?"

"My mother would receive treatment, and I would receive $12,000 per month, in exchange I couldn’t be away from you, I had to live with you, I could never tell outsiders, relatives, or friends about the contract clauses."

"And finally, a 40-year contract duration, if I don’t continue to follow the contract orders, or if I quit, I have to pay back all the money I’ve earned, reimburse the money spent on my mother’s treatment, and pay a multi-million dollar fine."

She speaks, and I realize this contract is truly abusive. It may seem good, but this contract is almost a prison, and it was given to a 13-year-old girl, which means child labor taking advantage of a desperate girl.

And worse, if it’s true, it means my parents maybe expected me to die, since they left someone without any qualifications to take care of me.

"...Your mother..."

"Died, I don’t even know what she had, I can’t leave the mansion unless I take you with me, and everything I receive is by order, so I have little news from the outside, and the phones here have locks that only allow me to call specific numbers."

"And since you never liked going out because of the colors, I almost never managed to go outside, the most I’ve been able to do is learn to drive a car."

"At least I received a letter from my mother, she seemed to be getting good treatment, I think..." She says, and I feel bad for judging her poorly.

’But if she’s just a sad girl with a bad past... why is her aura so... heavy?’ Her story is coherent, logical, and seems to fit the situation perfectly.

"Ah yes, and the main phone has your parents’ number in case you want to call them... although... it may be difficult for them to answer..."

"Hmm..." I look at Maya, her gaze has that shine of someone about to cry but holding back the tears.

"So... you’ve always taken care of me... aren’t you angry? I stole your life." In a way, I stole her life, even if it was my supposed parents’ fault.

"No, the fault isn’t yours, the fault is your parents’. Now that I’ve grown up, I understand, we were both deceived and abandoned. As a child, I even felt angry at you for being someone with so many medical demands that I couldn’t properly attend to."

"But I realized the fault was never yours, and that you also suffer in your own way. Besides, now I like living here, it’s even kind of cool when you get used to it, and I already know how to take good care of you." She says with a smile, and I think about all this.

’Too realistic to be false, but... how much of this is the truth?’ When someone mixes lies and truths like a well-crafted web, the lie becomes so "true" that it’s hard to distinguish.

So far, much of it fits with what she said, the part about my parents, the abandonment, the contract, the rules, and the medications, this part seems 100% true. Now the part about the contract being abusive and about her mother seems more like a way to gain pity.

When mixed, it just seems like a sad truth, but with a touch of lie to generate more sympathy, and her aura makes everything even more suspicious, and I don’t know if it’s true.

"Thank you for taking care of me, Maya..." I say, looking into her face, and she gives me a gentle smile.

"You don’t have to thank me, Shizune. Now let’s go out, since you don’t remember anything, I think showing you the outside might be even better, maybe you’ll remember something."

"And don’t worry about money, your parents send you at least $3 million a month, rich people are different, you know?" She says as I agree.

"Yes... maybe I’ll remember something..." I have to stay alert, many of these things open doors for me to get in serious trouble.

There are three main things that are problematic: first, we’re isolated alone in a mansion, and since my parents wanted to hide me, there shouldn’t be anyone for miles.

Second, she takes care of my medications, and as she said, she can change the prescription to a certain extent, simply by calling the place that makes my medications and asking for changes.

And third, she has nothing, someone who has nothing to lose is more dangerous than someone who has a lot to lose. If she’s been living in this mansion with me for years and her mother died, that means she has no friends, family, or any material goods other than the monthly money she gets from the contract.

’Great... 3 things to end me all at once...’ The Yandere with the most distorted aura and with 3 conditions that favor her in every way.

’No one will hear you scream... that movie line has never fit so well before.’ I’m trapped, a gilded cage, big but with bars that prevent me from escaping.

All I can do is wait and hope that ominous aura isn’t the prophecy of a terrible future.