Keypage: Xiao’s Page

I was in no way a soft person, though I don’t view myself as particularly tough or rugged, either. A straight and honest person. Accusations would be brought against me for being unmoved by the death of any person however close they may have been in life, a point not everyone would see as criticism. How could a person be so cold and heartless, even if the basic bearing of a Fixer is to look after oneself first and foremost? At first, I spent much time thinking over it, and asked myself many questions. Xiao as a person valued the lives of her colleagues, although her position forced her to keep her farewell to deceased teammates short, since carrying out her duty and emerging victorious came first. Shedding fewer drops of tears than the number of fallen was all the tribute I could pay. Bawling my eyes out would have stirred uneasiness in my colleagues. In the early days, the responsibility sometimes felt too heavy and burdensome.

I had never once thought that my method was incorrect; I believed it to be the best method for myself, and I deemed that problems couldn’t be solved any other way. Most Fixers will probably think in the same way. Therefore, I could not understand the manners of Lowell, the newly appointed Section 2 Director at the time. A person who tries to look after everyone, and doesn’t hide his grief-stricken face when a coworker passes away. It seemed clear as crystal that his tenderness would one day lead his team to death, yet he was faring better than I thought. A polar opposite to me. The ways I wanted to pursue but gave up because I was faced with my limitations. It might have upset me for a moment. A principle I could not follow, for I was not allowed to openly express sadness over the death of the few in order to protect the many; and my obligation to seize any chance of victory compelled me to march forward if there was something to count on. My capability wasn’t vast enough to embrace every member of the team. Was my choice wrong? What did he have that I did not? Looking back, I don’t think what I felt was envy or jealousy. The indignation certainly was not a toxic emotion. I’m sure each of us had different specialties.

It is said that people intersect with one another in some manner. I don’t think the process to be natural at all; I was not a believer of fateful meetings. After all, two parallel roads could never cross. A relationship begins with a desire to know. Simple curiosity. To know more about a person, or to go further and see what they are seeing together. People open up new roads to merge into the roads of others for various reasons.

I thought I would never care about him since he was so different from me, but my expectations weren’t quite right. I wanted to learn more about him, and I wanted to know what this emotion I felt was. And I thought I could perhaps become a better person if I saw what he was seeing together. If there’s one thing I realized, it’s that relationships between people always start from such small curiosity.

Taking in what I have said so far, you would think that this is such a peculiar and untruthful love. You might think it’s fussy. I cannot give out a clear answer, for I can’t dare define what love is. What could I say or add about an emotion I felt for the first time, one that I am still struggling to figure out? Furthermore, every person carries a different form of love. There will undoubtedly be some people who don’t place much importance on that emotion. You might even think that such emotion is absolutely useless in this City. Even if I were to define my love, this wouldn’t come across as a sweet story if you cannot understand it.

However, I can be certain that my sentiment towards Lowell was sincere. The so-called curiosity and sympathy… They bring about attention, admiration, and a little bit of obsession. I learned soon enough that this isn’t much different from what people call “love”. It may not have been something out of a fairy tale or a drama, but we still cherished each other in our little relationship. Perhaps I had been under the impression that love is a concept that is utterly distant from me. The love that I came into was cramped, yet big… and it felt burdensome at times.

You said I am strong, but the truth is that I was weak and fainthearted until the very last time I faced you. I have only grown so ironclad after I lost you. Why did I miss everything while you were still by my side? Why do I spend the whole night longing for you and regretting only after you have parted from me? I do have one regret regarding you: that I could not trust my feelings for you. That I was too afraid to tell you that you’re my everything the night before you left me.

Moments of loneliness will come as I live. It won’t be a thirsty longing for love, however. It is when I look to my side, yet there is no one next to me; when I am worn out from running somewhere; when I feel that my heart grows heavy rather than painful. Trying new things might let me forget it for a moment, but the memories will still follow me for life. When I feel such things, I can go back to familiarity. A familiar place, a familiar mind, a familiar person. And I plan to reunite with you soon. I want to tell you that I no longer have shame for the path I’ve chosen, and that I have finally freed myself from the guilt.