Black Cat 2

He woke up. The first thing he did when he opened his eyes was reach for the jug of water next to him. He filled his glass and drank it as if his thirst had lasted for years. He thought about the things he had to do today. Had everyone woken up by now? He got dressed and went downstairs. Yes, everyone was at the breakfast table. He quickly sat down and began to nibble on something. Before long, a voice called out, "Let's go." A wave of weariness washed over him, and he thought to himself, why am I stuck in this kind of job? Why do I have to work? Who in this world would appreciate working without earning money? He stood up without saying anything and walked toward the others. The place they were going to today was a bit far. As he walked, he recalled what had happened yesterday. Am I losing my mind, he wondered? This road, he thought, seems like one I’ll be on for a long time. He was filled with curiosity. Would he see that cat again? He wanted to learn something from it, something that would make him feel like he belonged in this world. What he had experienced just before the disconnection had shaken him deeply. So, we're only at the beginning of the road, he said to himself.

Around noon, feeling slightly tired, he threw himself into the shade of a tree. "A good break to think," he said. But to think about what? The cat? The road? Himself? The world? Sometimes, none of it made sense. He thought this world was built on absurdities, a system where the big remained big, and the small stayed small, running in endless cycles. He felt like the cycles would never change. And if they did change, what would happen? Wouldn't those who had always been small experience a kind of intoxication from newfound power the moment they changed? And wouldn't the big, if they shrank, find themselves consumed by relentless worries and wage war to return to their former state? Then again, what did it even mean to be big or small? He couldn't even define it himself. He felt trapped. Every undefined concept seemed to weigh on him more and more. How far could this go? When and how would he be able to define them? He took a deep breath, stood up, and set out to continue his work.

He wasn't particularly tall. He had straight hair, hazel eyes, and skin as pale as snow, though it had become tanned from working in the heat and sun. How would he get rewarded for all this labor? How would he be compensated? Ever since the "I" consciousness had formed in his mind, he'd been thinking about it. What would the "I" in this world do? He couldn't think any other way. Delving deep into his thoughts, hearing the profound words within himself, it seemed like a talent he was born with. No one around him had anything like it. All they cared about was how to keep the things they had gained and didn’t want to lose. Would I think the same way if I were in that position? He sought an answer but couldn’t find one within himself. He wondered where those answers were hidden. He had to find them. He thought he needed to find his purpose and himself. He didn’t feel good. Suddenly, he started feeling dizzy, his vision darkened, and he collapsed right where he stood. He had lost consciousness. Once again, he found himself in the midst of that pitch-black void. There was no sound. He was drowning in the screams of silence. He stayed like that for a long time. As he started to wake up, he felt his body shaking. It was as if someone was slapping him. Slowly, he began to open his eyes. The people around him, as if relieved, began bombarding him with questions like, "What happened? Are you okay?" Without thinking about the tone of his voice, he answered, rather indifferently, "I’m fine, I just want to go." All he wanted was to go to his room and lie down in his bed. He couldn’t figure out why this had happened. It was the first time he had experienced something like this. He stood up and began walking, and when asked if he wanted anyone to accompany him, he firmly said no.

He set off, walking toward his home. By late afternoon, the sun had disappeared behind the mountain, cooling the air a bit. The trees along the roadside seemed to sway their leaves in celebration of this. He felt a sense of happiness upon seeing this scene. I suppose this is something many people don’t experience, he thought. Being amidst the green, being there. Being like a part of it. He walked with his head down. His thoughts wandered back into uncertainties again. The only certain thing was that he was in the midst of uncertainty. And then, he heard a voice behind him. When he turned around, he froze. "No, you're not going crazy," said the black cat. "Your journey, our journey, has only just begun. You'll see what it will bring us." As he tried to respond, all he could do was watch it disappear again. Fear gripped him. He was now aware that a pitch-black cat had spoken to him. He couldn't accept it. With eyes welling up with tears, he decided to continue on his path.