Notes from Mom's basement

"Notes from Mom's basement"

My father left when I was eight.

I never had a father and it suits me better now.

I am a stillborn—I was born from an idea.

12th Jun 2020.

Back in Japan.

The quarantine at the airport was a pain.

They sent me to a hotel surrounded by "Corona zombies." They said I have to stay here for a couple of weeks. Why don't they just send me home already.

25th Jun.

That earthquake was massive.

Now I remember what it's like to live in Japan.

28th Jun.

Everything happens for a reason.

So, maybe there's also a reason for the numbness and nothingness of life.

8th Aug.

At my grandma's pub, I met this nerdy man who was teaching English to children.

Grandma started bragging about my excellent English skills to everyone as soon as I arrived, as always.

The nerd asked me too many questions. I put up with him for a while for my grandma's sake, but I got fed up.

I told him I hate all teachers, especially the one who teaches English.

He didn't stop; after a couple of beers, he kept talking to me in English pretending that he was too drunk, or that he was only interested in my English skills and my experience for academic purposes.

"I'll walk you home." He insisted when I stood up to leave.

He had his way with me at the back of the restroom in the park near my home.

He said he wanted to buy some water from the vending machine, and then he wanted to sit and talk to me, asked me my number, I was so sick of his phoniness. I thought about it and decided it would be less painful to just get it over with this one time.

It was sort of funny how he tried to sound gentle while acting tough at the same time. But the best part was that he was still speaking in English, if you could call it that.

The creep kept mumbling that I was small and cute, and kept asking me "Can I? Can I?" Can you what? Just say it, hillbilly.

I don't understand the nerve he had to ask for consent after dragging me to the back of the restroom.

Children's English teacher. What a joke.

Probably a virgin, too. He held me too tight and I didn't know if he was desperate or trying to break my spine.

27th Sep.

Ram has been pretty good to me, and I've made a few other friends here.

But there's this one kid I just can't stand.

The girl who loves otters and bakes sweets.

She is gentle and kind. She's kind to me. She's kind to everyone.

She said, smiling, "I've wanted to talk to you for so long," then asked me to be her friend.

I was wary.

She is nothing. Just a stupid kid who doesn't know any better.

I don't have to worry about her. I don't have to leave this place.

I'm all that matters.

16th Oct.

My birthday was yesterday.

She suggested we practice together, so I bought myself a guitar.

I have no idea what I'm doing, and I've already cut my finger.

She caressed my hand, saying, "It's okay. It gets easier once your fingers toughen up." I couldn't help but laugh; she sounded just like my mom.

That night she came over and played a few songs for me. Her voice was soothing, everything felt warm and soft.

I don't know what I'm doing.

28th Oct.

A happy family reunion. My little sister came home.

She's all grown up now. Her hair was platinum blonde. It was too shiny. I hated it.

She asked me about guitar.

I told her that it was just a phase.

17th Nov.

Got a haircut for no reason.

She didn't say anything but seemed to like it.

21st Nov.

I don't like sweets or spring; I don't know what she feels or what she says.

The more I talk to her, the more I lie.

The more I know her, the more I hate myself.

I can't stand myself—my thoughts, or my feelings for her.

I don't want to listen to her talking about someone besides me, but I would listen to anything she talks about.

26th Nov.

She managed to play the F chord for the first time, and it was historic. "Pretty's on the inside." She sang with a trembling voice, I could feel that she was nervous. I reassured her that her pronunciation was fine. I found it cute that she practiced that song.

"Let's practice this song together!" She pointed at her smartphone screen. It was a music sheet for "Chiisana koi no uta." She saw I was skeptical about it, so sang it for me.

"My voice isn't high enough to sing the songs I like." She said. "As a girl, I think I sound a bit too low."

I wanted to say that I like her voice. I wanted to say that it's a voice that held no lies.

But as soon as she started singing, I couldn't say anything anymore.

Just wanted to listen to her singing a bit longer. I didn't care that she stopped every time she messed up the chord.

"I can't sing when I'm too happy!" She said.

Why was she happy? I don't know anything anymore.

Everything ends, I know.

What am I writing?

27th Nov.

She's easily crying. Laughing too hard makes her cry, getting too mad makes her cry, even talking about crying makes her cry.

The last summer was painful for her. She was separated from her mother, (divorced, perhaps?), and it was one of the saddest things that ever happened to her, yet she couldn't cry at all. "It's a backlash from last year." She said. She seems to really love her mom.

Her father is a strict man. She didn't tell him or her little sister about me.

She always sneaks out to meet me.

She loves Spring.

29th Nov.

At this point it feels like she's trying to make me jealous. I know she's not. It's just that she loves her friends. She loves this life of hers.

And she loves spending time with everyone. That includes me.

She was so bubbly today. I mean, even more so than usual. I felt bubbly, too. I don't think I had giggled for the past ten years.

She told me that she listened to my ASMR and voice dramas.

I don't know where she heard about it. Had Ram tell her about it?

She said she wants to try it as well. She sat me down on her bed and tried to read it but she felt shy or something, she started making tea, chatting about embarrassing memories from when she was a broadcasting committee member.

"It's been rough. But I think I'm happy now."

So am I. I thought, nodding.

Then, she finally started reading the script.

It wasn't good or anything because she basically giggled through the whole thing, but I thought it was cute. Very listenable.

I pinched her cheeks. "Too soft," I remarked.

She told me she's been massaging them to keep them that way. I burst into laughter.

"You're so adorable," I managed to say.

"Tell me," I asked her, Half teasing, and half genuinely curious. "do you ever do bad things at all? Or even think about them?"

"Of course! Like, when someone pushed me on the bus, I curse them with a bad luck."

That kind of answer would usually make me roll my eyes, but she seemed genuine. So I was more intrigued.

A thought was nagging at the back of my mind.

I've never wanted to believe someone this much before. I wanted proof of her authenticity.

There had to be some dirt on her. Something ugly.

But I knew mean questions wouldn't work; I'd have to observe her carefully.

She made me lie down on the bed, her soft fingers caressed my hair.

"You've been working hard. I know you'd deny it, but you're past your limit. You should rest now. I can only sit beside you and listen, but know that I will always be here for you."

It took me a moment to realise she was reading the script.

"I can always do this for you."

She said.

"Yes, please."

I replied. My eyes felt too heavy to keep open.

"Promise me, not to leave me again." She made me promise. She was still giggling, but I could tell that she meant it.

"I promise."

I felt her fingers on my forehead, and then her lips.

None of this was in the script.

23rd Dec.

She called me.

She was crying over her friend's misfortune.

Who does that?

I never cried for anyone but myself.

I don't know what was wrong with me, but I started to feel something in my chest. I couldn't control it.

I didn't want to hear her sobbing, I wanted to comfort her.

"Don't hold back, just cry. Sadder, and more horrendous things await you in your long life."

"Why are you saying that?" She stopped crying.

I don't know why I said that.

But it's still better than telling her "everything will be okay," because I know it's a sheer lie.

I had to tell her something those phonies around her won't dare to say. I have to protect her from their lies.

I don't want to be just another one of her good friends.

But then, who am I supposed to be?

1st Jan 2021.

We talked on LINE throughout the night.

We celebrated the New Year together.

It was kind of nice.

This is nice.

Maybe I worried too much.

She's a good kid, and maybe I'm not so bad either.

8th Jan.

She let me read a short story she wrote.

I don't know if it was good, but it was very much like her, and I liked that about it.

Even a small choice of words carried her scent.

I told her that I wasn't human enough to enjoy her cute story.

She chuckled.

"Write me a story someday," she said.

Maybe.

Feb.

What a dumb kid.

This is why I hate nice girls. They accept and welcome anyone to their doorstep. What if I were dangerous?

Maybe I am. What then?

Just because we spent a few months together, she thinks I'm to be trusted, and loved.

She said it herself, she doesn't know what love is. And yet, she told me that she loves me.

Even though she's a hardworking student, she's still stupid. Even though she's a centimeter taller than me, she's still a little girl.

She is stupid; a stupid little girl.

Of all people, why did she have to say that to me?

17th April.

Everything ends.

Too many times older men professed their love to me; too often, I let them have their way.

I knew I wasn't worthy of her.

I just wanted to wish her a happy birthday.

But I ended it.

"Please, don't ever talk to me again," she said.

"Thank you for everything."

She walked away.

I could never tell her the truth.

I couldn't reach her anymore.

My fingers had toughened from the guitar strings.

If only I had been born a man.

If only I could have loved her the way he loved me in that classroom. Could I have been saved that way?

Or would I have destroyed her instead?

Apr.

I felt disconnected.

Ram visited me. We hadn't talked for a while.

We chatted for a bit, and I sensed he didn't trust me anymore.

"I still want us to be together." He said, but at that point I didn't really care what he said anymore.

"If you want, you can just do me here. I think I need it."

"You think?"

He seemed shocked, or sad, maybe angry?

Complex emotions flashed across his face.

"I forgive you for what you just said," he said in a monotone.

"You don't like me that way?" I asked.

"I do like you that way. I just respect myself."

"What is that? We both know you're not that type of person. You literally told me about every girl you slept with. So why not me?"

I was angry for my pride, I didn't even realize he was trying to protect it.

He said something but I couldn't quite make it out. He hugged me softly, and I missed my chance to ask him anything else. He was nice and warm.

That weird heat in my chest almost came up to my throat.

But before I could fully feel it, he let me go.

"Goodbye. I'll see you tomorrow."

I left without looking back.

He probably knew I wasn't coming back, but he still wanted to tell me that he'd always be there for me.

May.

I should be sad. But I feel somewhat relieved. Peaceful, even.

Is it because I'm the phony, so I can't cry?

I saw her sobbing and crying so many times.

But those tears weren't for me.

That day, however, all her being was facing towards me.

I saw hate and tears in her eyes.

For the first time, there was proof of her love that I could understand.

For the first time, I felt like I saw her true face―the face I had always seen.

She made me believe in her as I broke that promise.

And yet, I still can't cry. It's like the colors are fading each day as my emotions fade, too.

I wonder if I could cry next year.

29th Jun.

I ran into her and her little sister at a café.

They didn't notice me sitting in the booth next to theirs. I know I had to leave, but just as she started talking, I gave up all my sensible thoughts.

She talked about writing a script for a school project. Her little sister was munching on something. They didn't look much alike.

Listening to their chat made me feel strange. Warm, but stung. It was like a heavy homesickness, of sorts.

For a while they chatted about some anime and songs, and then they started talking about the little sister's boyfriend.

The little sister asked her, "Make sure to introduce your boyfriend if you find one!"

"Okay, I promise." She said, with an awkward laugh.

I got up and left. I don't know if they saw me or not. I just wasn't able to stomach that thought.

A boyfriend. Of course.

Of course it's a boy.

She'll eventually find some nice guy. What did I expect?

It will fade away soon. Everything will.

Everything will be okay.

1st Jul.

I cut my hair short. It's messy, but it suits me.

It felt like a ritual. Perhaps it was.

15th Oct.

Happy birthday, good girl.

27th Dec.

My sister sent me a Christmas gift.

It was a bookmark that is a chain with a small silver medal at the end of it.

I sent her Osmanthus aroma candle.

My hair has grown to my shoulders just as hers was when I first met her.

I tried some of my sister's clothes.

Navy cardigan and white skirt.

It's so not like me, but I still look good in them, or rather, she looks good.

I feel pretty, especially with my hair this long and in these clothes.

I could totally pass as her elder sister.

17th Mar 2022.

I bought myself a sketchbook.

I'm drawing lately, though I never drew anything before. I thought it'd be worthwhile.

13th May.

My sister brought home her newlywed husband.

His first impression was that he wasn't a nice guy. And after a while, he legitimately seemed like a good guy. He is the opposite of me, who is basically nice to everyone.

I am so glad she found him.

I'm happy for her.

25th July 2023.

Mr. Noi asked me for my LINE; I told him I don't have it. I could have told him, but the way he looked at me reminded me of Dad. Maybe it was his shirt, or the smell? I don't know.

I was scared.

I felt like I was reduced to being 16-year-old kid again.

1st Aug.

I noticed Ram still hadn't changed his name on LINE―the nickname I gave him.

I never replied, or even read his last messages from last year.

It must be painful for him to remain my "Ram."

How foolish.

I actually like that about him, though.

Two years, and he still can't let go of a friend, or is it that I have become a part of him?

I have no right to say "I miss you."

I have to be strong like him, too.

16th Sep.

I heard there was a reading club held at the city hall. I decided to join them for a change, I brought "A little prince" by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.

There was only a few people, eight, maybe seven?

And I was the youngest.

This guy, probably in his 30s, seemed to really like my reading.

He asked me to come tomorrow again.

I said sure, why not?

17th Sep.

For some reason there were many people today.

Mostly guys, there was a girl with glasses and pretty blouse, but she kept quiet. Still, it was nice sitting next to a girl my age.

The guy from yesterday was there, too. He also sat next to me. It was a little uncomfortable to read because I could feel his eyes fixed on my face the entire time. I tried not to look, but eventually I had to.

He was weirdly polite and overly attentive. He asked me to be his friend. I said yes. I didn't know any other way to answer.

He has a tan line on his ring finger.

21st Sep.

Mr. Noi suggested that I celebrate my birthday on the 17th, instead of the 15th.

He said 15th October will be a bad day this year.

He even started calling me Momo-chan lately; at this point it's kind of funny.

I'm so relieved I didn't give him my real name.

11th Oct.

I received a letter from my sister this morning.

It started with "To my sister."

After expressing her gratitude for all I've done for her, she wrote that she loves me.

She's married, after all―not a child anymore.

I didn't cry or anything but It was surreal. My heart felt warm as I read it.

I read it again, and again.

She wouldn't understand how much it means to me. It was a good letter, and I never could write like her.

Family is truly strange.

17th Oct.

Mr. Noi gave me a copy of his new work.

It's over 300 pages.

"I wanted to give this to you on your birthday, so I finished writing in a month." He said, with a smile.

He has a good smile.

It often amazes me what the power of love can do.

But then, is this really love?

23rd Oct.

Gurov asked me for my LINE.

He's rushing this; he's becoming more and more like me back then, and I, like her.

Messages felt a lot safer than talking in person.

I teased him a bit. Not that I was provocative or anything. I just acted all innocent and cute, and that was enough to provoke him.

And there he goes; desperate to get my attention.

He started whining about his wife, his job, pretty much about everything there is.

All I had to do was to listen to him.

The more I listen to him, the more I was sure that he doesn't deserve what he has.

I felt cold and bitter.

He's my new subject, I decided.

I comfort him.

I simulate how she acted, what she said, even the emojis and stamps she used. I remember it all.

And I remember how I felt reading those messages.

I felt her warmth near me again.

24th Oct.

A couple of crows walked me home.

Two must be alone without each other.

Worry not, little wanderers.

I am not entering your kingdom.

I opened my door and waited to see if they come in.

"But the crows puff their feathers and cry

Between me and the sun,

I should go now."

31st Oct.

It's been half a month since I started reading his book, a birthday gift from Mr. Noi. I've finally gotten a third of the way through it. Partly enraged by his kindness, partly in despair, and partly tearing my eyes out as I read.

This is an incredible work.

Until now, I wasn't sure whether I like novels because of the story or because of the dialogue with the author. But after reading this, I'm starting to wonder if I like novels at all.

14th Nov.

I've come to her town. This is where she grew up. It's bright and warm.

I don't know what I'm doing here; I should have never come.

Children passed by and I couldn't bear their laughter.

But the old man's gaze was a strange comfort.

This must be a nice place.

I shouldn't be here.

14th Dec.

Gurov messaged me.

"I can't believe you're unaware of it, you should know how amazing you are."

Yes, I am very well aware.

18th Dec.

That was too close.

I teased him a bit too much.

But now I know the borderline.

Gurov is a big guy, if he decides to take me, I have no way of protecting myself.

I hate the fact that I'm actually enjoying this womanizing game. I feel somewhat violent, sadistic, even.

She's not like that. I have to behave.

25th Dec.

He's been a little pushy lately. Gurov.

I don't blame him though, because he was merely playing my role.

When I got out of the shower, there were four unsent messages, and a long essay of apology on LINE.

I wonder if I annoyed her this much, too.

30th Dec.

I sang "Hotaru no Hikari" for the New Year party. It was fun. Gurov was recording me singing.

He always does things like that in a sneaky way, but I didn't mind it.

I recorded when she sang Christmas songs for me, too.

I look, talk, and act like her now. But even if I have her voice, I still can't mimic the way she sings.

8th Jan 2024.

These days I'm going on dates with different men. They always insist on buying lunch or dinner for me.

I've met this bisexual guy on Tinder. He was nice, not saying that because he was Canadian, but I could tell that he actually cherishes his friends and family.

And he was very respectful.

He just massaged my shoulders when I visited his room in the hotel a couple days ago. He took me to many places and never once tried to touch me in an inappropriate way.

My sister called me up at night, so I talked about it; she scolded me.

She said what I'm doing here is called "Papa-katsu," and that it's disgraceful.

The realization shocked me.

This isn't what I was trying to be.

I have to stop this.

29th Jan.

My fingers are getting soft again.

I can't remember the last time I played my guitar.

8th Feb.

For some reason, I smell like her today.

1st Apr.

It's about time I leave this town.

Au revoir.

15th Apr.

When you're drinking hot chocolate, sometimes there's a chunk of chocolate that hasn't completely melted.

Something like that tastes good.

And something like that is what everyone wants to be.

17th Apr.

Happy birthday.

21st Apr.

"This silver chest was put in the fire seven times.

The kind of judgment that never chooses wrongly can withstand as many tests.

Some people kiss shadows, and only have a shadow of bliss.

There are some foolish people covered with silver hair, and this casket had a silver covering as well.

Take whatever wife you want to bed, but this fool's head will always be yours. So go away.

You must leave."

13th Feb, 2025.

I must stay away, hiding from all the beautiful things in the world.

17th Feb.

Art, as they call it, seems more beautiful the less I understand, the less I see of it.

Because my ugly nature is all I have left to connect me with the beauty of this world.

Distance is the only way for me to love.

Food, on the other hand, tastes better if you know more about it.

Where it lived, what it was fed, how it lived and died, and whether it had a name...

If you know all that, you know how to prepare it properly, and how to savor it.

20th Feb.

I love otters.

They're so adorable and useless. What's more, they don't even have human rights.

What majestic creatures they are.

21st Feb.

"Die a Fairytale"

Brand new copies of my favorite book,

packed in a box sitting in a warehouse forgotten.

My best friend is still waiting for me,

Just as he was when I left him in that apartment.

The girl I adore is still mad at me,

just as she was when she promised me on her birthday.

If I left a part of me in everywhere I've passed by, in everyone I've met,

Someday, would the world be full of my wishes?

Would I live happily ever after,

and would my death become a fairytale?

22nd Feb.

Must be Friday because everyone stinks.

24th Feb.

If imitation allows us to better understand the behavior of others, then, by understanding her, can I become her?

26th Feb.

Oddly enough, I'd be more comfortable in a place where I'm not meant to be.

27th Feb.

"The Angel that presided o’er my birth

Said, “Little creature, form’d of Joy and Mirth,

“Go love without the help of any Thing on Earth.”

2nd Mar.

Anything designed is given a purpose.

If it moves on its own, in accordance with that purpose, it has a will of its own.

If it has a will, it becomes obsessed with its own design.

—Me (failing to sleep on time)

3rd Mar.

The sound of rain here with me is our today.

Let the beautiful sunshine be your tomorrow.

Will you stay here and become my yesterday?

4th Mar.

Every day, I tell myself:

"Go ahead and take a misstep. Go astray."

9th Mar.

My little sister got a houseplant, so I wrote her a little poem for it.

"Nameless Plant"

Warmth of the sun,

Glows on every one.

Thorns I once had, gone,

Friends, I’d love just one.

Does the water sing,

Sweet to weeds like me?

Sweet to trees so tall,

Graceful as you be?

Hide not your soft light,

Pale arm, shining bright. Nameless plant am I,

—Harm, I’ll never try!

10th Mar.

There are only two types of well-educated, sophisticated people:

the boring ones and the perverts.

And I don't find you boring.

11th Mar.

The contradiction you find in yourself is reflected in nature.

The cruelty you find in nature, you will find in people.

The kindness you find in people, you will find in your heart.

13th Mar.

At this time of my life, I only have my sister, my imaginary friend, four baby oysters who follow me on X, and all the other human beings on the planet.

I'm such a nobody that I have no enemies.

20th Mar.

"Helpless in both directions, the ego defends itself vainly, alike against the instigations of the murderous id and against the reproaches of the punishing conscience."

Will I be executed by reality, or become a martyr for my own delusions?

21st Mar.

Innocence threatens experience.

Thus, experience, heeding its primal urge, unsheathes the blade, while innocence, swayed by its own pure instinct, unfurls its arms to welcome it.

23rd Mar.

Everyone I’ve left is still with me.

I’ve left them just as I wished them to be,

willing them to stay frozen, like taxidermy.

Their time stands still,

trapped between memory and my ideal.

And I cannot set myself free from them.

26th Mar.

"I am a sick girl…I am a spiteful girl.

I am a good girl."

I am imprisoned in my own mind.

These are my "Notes from Underground," though I’m no Dostoevsky.

I’m neither as myopic as Travis Bickle nor as helpless as Arthur Fleck.

I know this is all just a fairy tale, a story crafted for someone else.

Still, I intend to let it play out and see where it takes me.

Gestas, the impenitent thief, laughed even on the cross.

As long as I stay true to my nature, I can find peace with anything life throws at me—or with the way I choose to throw my life away.

31st Mar.

I just want to see something real. Something beautiful.

Who could blame a girl who longs for beauty over morality? After all, we are all created in God's image.

13th Apr.

When I was her age, my English teacher loved me.

I looked up to him, because I was just a stupid kid who didn't know any better.

When in reality, he was just a pervert who made me call him "Dad."

I was defiled.

It happened in late March, a time when everyone around me seemed a little crazy.

He said: "You're a good girl, you know that?"

His black hair, a bright yellow shirt, dark eyes. The scent of coffee, bony hands, the gentle touch, the sting of his clean-shaven chin, the stench of his breath, and the sight of my own blood.

"You saved me." I saw tears in his eyes.

"Thank you."

A bunch of "whys" remained, and a single, ignored, "I know why."

For some reason, I lost my perception of color for a couple of days.

I didn't tell anyone. Everyone was a little crazy anyway.

I never loved her.

17th Apr.

I tried to play her song, but my fingers were too soft; I couldn't hold the strings.

All I ever wanted was to wish her a happy birthday.

2nd Jun.

"If I crush another bug, I’ll probably cry again, and if I cry, my jaw will rust, and I won’t be able to speak anymore."

17th Jun.

Though it’s pathetic, I’m terribly glad to realize that even as an adult, I’m not even half the woman my mother is.

She must be a witch.

21st Jun.

The horizon is constantly transforming into something incredible, so I just want to glance at it occasionally, clutch the important things tightly, and lose myself in them. I want to be completely devoted to that.

21st Jul.

To know it’s there yet it doesn’t show itself. Absence is the greatest omnipresence—Like Salinger, the sun and moon, or God.

30th Jul.

I got heatstroke because I was trapped on a burning rooftop all day due to the tsunami.

But the creep didn't touch me once today, so I call that a win.

7th Aug.

When everyone does what I wish them to do,

I can't stop grinning.

It's more exciting and thrilling than a game of chess.

As long as you followed the script, you could do pretty much anything in-between the lines, and get away with it.

12th Aug.

I think it’s the privilege of art to simmer and stew in suffering alone.

Those who don’t sell their malice cheaply, who can keep it as their own forever, will surely become great writers.

3rd Sep.

I was frustrated because of my boss at work.

The weirdo's been grabby lately. One night at the bar, he slid his hand in my pants, pretending to be drunk. Literally, the entire section was there.

I was too tired to let him have his way, so I gave up.

I stood up, slapped him in the stomach, and went home. I reported him to the manager. They told me they will deal with him.

But I was just too sick of it, so I resigned.

I'm leaving this place soon.

Gurov messaged me, saying he had been wanting to apologise to me. About his behaviour, his intentions—about everything.

I just wanted to get it out, so I told him exactly what I was doing to him, too.

"I'm sorry," I challenged him.

"I didn't know you would do something so silly like that." He replied quickly.

"Let me protect you. I feel I have to," he insisted.

We talked for a while.

He said his father passed away last year and he'd been lost, so he started thinking of me.

Also, his "totally platonic good friend" got a boyfriend last week, so he's been lonely.

And that's why (although he didn't say it like that) he decided to message me.

A good friend, huh. I wonder if death makes an aroused person even more aroused.

I let him go, only for him to crawl back just to disappoint me? To tell me he failed me, or that he failed even to play the role of my old self? Worse yet, he decided to reconnect with me instead of going back to his wife and being a good man.

"Let's be friends again," he asked.

"Sure," I replied.

Fine, I won't pull my punches anymore. If he even messages me something inappropriate, I'll cut ties with the society once and for all and never trust anyone again.

He agreed to the term. "I won't let you down."

My adorable, big dummy.

Let's see if my Doctor Faust wins this bet.