Chapter Text
People have always viewed you as a mature child throughout your life, and maybe it's from the apprehension of disappointing others, or letting down others, you always find yourself catching up to their expectations of you. You try your best: you smile, you become the best, you follow what your parents told you.
"It's for your own good."
You didn't know when, but your life slowly sailed into forming yourself to what people expected of you until your parents decided to take matters into their own hands and planned out your whole life since you were young. Maybe because you didn't know how to deal with it, maybe you're used to it, you just stayed silent, merely nodding and declaring an: "I'll do my best," to them.
Maybe because you thought it wasn't so bad.
Your parents cared for you, you remembered your cherished memories with them. They always tried their best to fulfill your needs, they took you to where you wanted when you were a child, they bought you everything you needed and wanted, and they're always so considerate with their words. They kept you safe, they always made sure you're at your 100% healthy.
It really is kind of them.
You were grateful for them. You were blessed with everything, really, like people said. It felt like cheating with how easy for you to be at the top with mere intelligence and personality. Teachers kept gushing over how much of a smart and good student you were, and your schoolmates marveled at you for you who were always ready to help others in need, be it for simple teaching sessions or your grades.
Your existence made everyone happy, it's enough for you.
Even if you slowly felt pressured by the honey-laced expectations that were put on you. To be smart, to be intelligent, to stand at the top, to never fail, perfection is all you are supposed to be, and if you were anything but perfect: it's not you. Those were the things you realized when you first let down your guard around people for the very first time.
"...You got 87? That's weird. Did something happen at school?"
At first, you thought that they were just worrying about your condition. It's not normal for you to lack something, to be lower than your original position. You were honest that time, you were busy teaching your classmates who had troubles with previous materials, and you helped them: you were a smart and affable classmate in the eyes of people after all.
You thought your parents would understand, and that there's a chance that they'll scold you to not teach anyone if there's a test coming. You don't know that their reply will be out of your comprehension.
"To be honest, dear. It'll be nicer if you... Have friends who are around your level. Of course, it's nice that you taught others, but it'll be better if you have people who can improve you instead of... How do I put it? Holding you down, I suppose. It's okay to be friends with them, but don't let them take too much of your study time, okay?"
You never minded when your classmates asked you to teach them, it made you feel useful: and you enjoyed the moments. Some of them protested loudly whenever encountering a hard problem, and some scolded them, saying that they should be grateful for the all mighty you to have time to teach them, then there were others who quietly asked you how to solve this and that.
But your mother was right, and you understood her worries.
Slowly, you isolated yourself from your classmates, not to the point of so close like before where they could ask you for favors, but close enough that they wouldn't think that you were distancing yourself on purpose. You didn't want to disappoint your mother one way or another: if she heard that you were distancing yourself from your classmates, she would worry even more. But if you kept on teaching them: she would worry that your grades might worsen.
Your method worked wonders to the point every time someone asked you to hang out with them, there's always that one person who would say: "[Name] will probably be busy, I heard she's going to represent our school for a contest, right?"
That person was right. The less time you spent with them, the more time you have on studying, and you're okay with that: your parents like that, after all. But because of that, you have gotten many accomplishments, more and more bouquets coming your way, and your parents keep beaming around you, never throwing that kind of word again.
"Oh my, so you spent more time studying? That's good, dear. No wonder our lovely child here got first place again at the math contest. Do you want your favorite pie for dinner?"
"Yes. Thank you, mother."
To feel grateful for anything that happened, to be reminded that no matter what you do, you need to put your parents above all. They did everything for your own good, it's because they love you, they want you to live an excellent future, and they want you to be content. All you need to do was to follow their requests (it's for your own good, they repeated).
"It's all for my own good," you remind yourself once again.
If those words are really the truth, why are you now standing on the edge of a bridge?
Until now, you don't know what happened: you don't know why are you reduced to a condition like this. Since when were you so different from what you presented?
You, who are the ever-radiant student who does good both in her studies and extracurricular activities. You, who are the pride of a school and parents who never hesitate on lending a hand. You, who are the beloved epitome of perfection in the eyes of people. You, who is the Angel who always smiles from the sun rise until the dawn breaks.
Why do you never feel anything from all those achievements?
You crouch over the edge, eyes peering down at the scenery under you. All you see is the river, water flowing peacefully. Even with you being so close to death, you don't feel fear of death, maybe because being a disappointment is much scarier for you.
For the very first time, you ran away from home at the age of 18. For the very first time, you didn't want to hear your parents' honey-laced praises and scolding. You don't know why, you didn't do anything that should have disappointed them, but you just don't want to meet them, and you can't really name this feeling aside from fear.
If your parents know that you're afraid of them, they will be very disappointed in you. They did all of those for your sake, why are you afraid of them when you are the cause of everything that happened to yourself?
"I apologize." You murmur to yourself, directing the apology to your parents.
You're sorry for not being perfect enough. You're sorry that you don't know what happened to you anymore. You're sorry that you never know that you'll be reduced to this pitiful state. You're sorry that you can't be everything people expected you to be. You're sorry that in reality, you might not be much help to people around.
You're sorry that above all the great images that they believe you are, you are nothing more than a child who doesn't want to disappoint her parents.
"I really am."
With that, you let yourself slowly fall over the edge, closing your eyes, as you are ready to embrace the death that will welcome you.
***
"The subject has opened its eyes. Since we have worked on its five senses, it should be no problem for it to see and hear clearly. As for its memories, it's still unknown. I suggest we run a test when its limbs have grown to give it enough mobility."
I'm sorry? The moment you open your eyes and your ears, you're greeted by a swarm of people with lab coats in front of you through the view of the water surrounding you.
Are you having some kind of fever dream? Or did these people find you falling over the bridge and decided to kidnap you? Since when are you a test subject or something? How many days has it been? What happened?
I feel uncomfortable. Despite the water surrounding, enclosing you. It feels rather weird that you don't feel an itch in your eyes, the suffocation from your nose, and the numbness in your ears. You can see that there are people in front of you, even if they look monochromatic blueish through your eyes. You can perfectly hear what they say, even if you can hear a few bubbles pop around you. You can feel that you're clearly in the water, alive and not dying, despite being unable to freely move your body from the stiffness.
"Subject 003, right? It's amazing..." One of the (researcher?) people steps forward a few times, getting close to the thing (probably a tank) you're in. "It doesn't seem to be harmful. With its age, is it possible to do gestures communication with it?"
Another one flips over their papers. "Seeing that it's supposed to be at the age where it can do small gestures, such as nodding its head and twitching its fingers. I suppose it won't hurt to try."
"Good." She looks up at you, now you can clearly see her face through your vision, a woman around her twenties, face neutral and eyes focused as if observing you like you're someone she should be wary of. Then, the woman researcher smiles at you, arms crossed. "Subject 003, can you hear me?"
You are perfectly human, through and through, inside and out, from the start until the end. Why do these people keep calling you 'Subject 003' when you clearly aren't one?
Huh.
You hope this is what you're thinking it is.
***
Unfortunately, it is.
After maybe days of spending time in here, your consciousness barely lasted for a few hours before getting a seemingly long nap. The only people visiting you are always the same group of people, covered in lab coats. Just like your (out-of-the-world) guess, you are being experimented on, you are an experiment, which makes things whole more unsettling.
You can't say you feel something from everything that's happening right now, even if you have a couple of questions.
They didn't hurt you, at least not yet. They simply talked to you, asking a few things but never asking for a reply, like they were talking to someone who has amnesia and is unable to do anything, and that's the truth: you feel your condition is not far from it, considering you barely can do anything in your current condition. You discern numbness spread all over your body, you could do nothing more than merely twitching your fingers and shaking your head.
Maybe they were paralyzing you through the water tank you're in. It doesn't hurt, and you don't feel suffocated, but you know it's weird. You really are an experiment, even though you don't know for what purposes.
You are called 'Subject 003,' and so far, by looking around and finding other water tanks, all you saw were small lumps of something you couldn't identify. Sometimes you wondered who are 'Subject 001' and 'Subject 002,' but seeing that you're here, maybe they both failed and you were there to serve as a replacement.
Was it because your body is in perfect condition? You rarely got sick, your organs aren't in terrible states, you don't have any allergies, and according to people around you, you are a fast learner: a genius, maybe they found out about you and had been stalking you. Seeing you jump off of the bridge, they took their chance and experimented on you.
Okay. Maybe it's a bit too much, but it's still a possibility.
"Subject 003 is well-behaved, almost in contrast to the previous subjects." You just stay quiet at the two people standing over you, seeming to note whatever you did. "It's been a few months. Should we get it out of its tank so it could train its mobility?"
"She." The other corrected. "If we want to grow it as a human, then we should treat it accordingly, so let's start with pronouns."
"Yes, yes, whatever, ma'am." The previous one sighs at the correction. "It's weird to have a homunculus with female body compositions. But I suppose it explains her behavior that differs from the previous subjects. I think she may be a success."
Then, the woman huffs, looking at you- you just stare back, head filled with much more questions than before.
"Don't bet on living beings, they express the most colorful behaviors, we can't rely on mere calculations and observations alone." Her gaze steels. Even if her eyes are on you, you can't help but feel that what she's seeing is not you, but something behind you. "Even A.I is able to have feelings despite not having an ounce of flesh in it, it won't be hard for a homunculus to have them too."
So you are a homunculus.
You learned about it out of curiosity when you were younger, and you knew of videos of someone nurturing a homunculus (and years later, you ended up knowing that person died). You think it's rather weird for you to be referred to as a homunculus. Was science behind the scene this great that they're able to turn a human into a homunculus?
I don't feel any difference, though, no power-up. You suppose they adjusted some things to your body that made you feel numb until now.
You don't really know how to react to this new piece of information. But you prefer if you become a failed experiment. All your life, you have been doing all your might to fulfill others' needs. If you reincarnate just for it to happen again, you will feel guilty again.
You've failed before because of one single mistake you've done. What if it happens again? They put their best into research, but if you failed, their efforts will go to waste. You can't let that happen.
They, who put so much effort, to the point that you, the third, have been created.
It's better if you fail rather than becoming a half-assed experiment. But for them, maybe it's better if you become the perfect masterpiece born from their hard work.
***
It takes a long time when you were out of the water tank, your memories barely succeeding you at what happened when you wake up and are greeted by the glaring lights of a white room. The room is empty, and no one bothering you, but you can feel their eyes all over you.
You look up, and there it is, a CCTV that you recognized all too well.
In this body, you can feel you aren't as restricted as before. But when you look down, all you see are short limbs that seemingly belong to you. And you, being who you are, don't have the time to dwell on such things. Maybe it's because it's to be expected, now that you are a homunculus.
Maybe your consciousness is placed in a homunculus? How did they do it, though? Maybe they injected your DNA and use your main as its body base? You don't know. You aren't one to dwell on such thoughts.
Like a newborn child you are, you try your best to stand up. And to be honest, it was hard. You can feel your legs are already wobbling from trying to do it, your old experience already betraying you because trying to stand sure is hard. In an attempt to balance yourself, you spread out your hands, like a plane.
One second, you haven't fallen yet.
Three seconds, and still haven't.
Five seconds have passed, and you still stand strong.
"...I did it." You inform yourself, your tongue feels weird and clumsy, it's almost amazing you can manage those three words from your mouth. How old is this physical homunculus body or yours?
The ambiance around you is nothing but silence as you dwell on your guesses.
You're in a child's body, it's no wonder they placed you in that water tank like those newborn homunculus. But, how are you able to survive in the air right now? It's uncanny how similar your body is to a human. Maybe you're some kind of human that's made so people can see if there's an actual human who can both breath in the air and under the water. Human slash homunculus sure is interesting.
It's not that bad, maybe.
Still, I hope they won't place too many expectations on me. If it was to study, I'll try my best. But things like this... I don't think I can. You look at your hands, closing and opening your palms to double-check that it really is a child that you're in.
Being an experiment isn't something you have ever experienced, and the results are never up to you. You can't control what kind of results you'll have. It's not like you are able to open your organs and switch them out with that of a fish to check out if you can really breathe under the water. It's all up to chance.
"Subject 003 passed the first test. Able to stand, able to talk. Pronunciation could use some work. Legs are still unstable. Ability to walk is still questionable."
It's been a while since you have heard a voice that loud.
Like the curious child you are, even if you aren't really one, you turn your body to the source of the echoing voice, trying your best to maintain your stability. Of course, your unconscious guess is correct: a speaker on the other side of the room.
I see. Your eyes flicker between the CCTV and the speaker, then, you decide to sit on the floor, not wanting your legs to grow too tired. This will probably be my room for now. It's befitting to the fact that you are an experiment, so you're fine with the solid color of your room. It could have been worse.
You start to sit down, legs folded in a seiza style, not wanting to show any rude or childish manners as their masterpiece by crossing your legs or things like that. Even if you don't want to make them expect too much from you, you still need to be polite, at the very least. They created (or re-created) you, after all.
It continues to be silent for a little while.
Then, the same voice speaks up. This time, a different mannerism, a reaction that you didn't put into consideration.
"...I didn't expect 003 would have such a manner." Her voice sounds more breathy as if she's in disbelief despite being one of the people (possibly) creating you. "Well, she's easier to handle than the previous ones alright." Another comment was added.
The previous ones.
It sometimes makes you wonder, are they dead? Did they fail so miserably? Did they not have the same condition as you? Your body right now is that of a child, so it's natural for them to fail. But if they have the same mind as you, they should be able to do the same thing as you. Then again, a lot of people would be in hysteria if they ever find out that they are experiments.
You are a little more tired than normal humans, and you don't have any reason to fight back, so you think it's normal for you to show no difference towards it. Though, if you really try your best to survive, you'll act milder, sweeter, and gentler.
But that's not what they're searching for, so you'll just stay quiet and polite, as polite as a child can.
Though... The quietness and the overall atmosphere in the room don't offer much. You gaze at the white surface in front of you. The whole room is so blank, it will probably ricochet in your eyes if you stare at it for a long time.
It only makes the questions in the back of your head more rackety, too.
Previously, you wanted to disappear, to run away from your failures. Now, with nothing of your past that ties you down, you start a seemingly new life. This time, a brand new question orbits through your head, or even through the room if you want to be delusional enough.
Do you want to live?
You don't know.
Do you want to disappear again?
You don't know.
Everything is too new, too foreign from what you've remembered. You will get used to it in the future, sooner or later, but right now, you don't. You're still perplexed about a lot of things despite not letting the questions fully load your head. Being sane enough to realize your condition will probably be considered a miracle by many.
Screaming and trashing around won't do you any good, so it's better if you stay hushed.
I'm starting to get sleepy too. You can feel the drowsiness has started to settle into your system. You've done nothing in these minutes (or hours), it's natural for you to start to get sleepy after doing literally nothing aside from trying to stand up, talk, and sit down. Even the aches in your legs don't compare to your need for sleep.
Click!
Huh? You turn your head to the sound of a door being opened. That was fast. Were they so impressed by you that they wanted to see you up close?
Coming in from outside, an old man of portly and short stature enters the room, a white lab coat over his grayish shirt. His trademark, though, is a pair of goggles that are shaped like gears along with his large mustache.
He looks unique.
And oddly familiar.
The said man offers a polite smile at you, and you reflectively smile back out of habit. He didn't say anything though, only standing in front of a door with a smile on his face, not revealing anything more.
The overall vibe he has is different, and somehow, the way he looks feels different from your previous life. You don't know what's so different, but there are these tingling feelings that let you know that these eyes of yours are seeing through a different way. It almost feels cartoonish, or was your reality mended in with the cartoon?
It doesn't help that you feel an odd sense of familiarity. You have never met him, you are sure of that. If you ever met someone like him, you are sure you won't forget such a peculiar person who has those goggles. Maybe it's a simple deja vu because of his stature and the coats? Maybe, maybe.
"Hello, 003." Now, he finally speaks: his voice sounds calm, but there are small trembles as if he's holding something back. "I am Dr. Ujiko Daruma. I will be helping you learn a lot of things from now on."
You tilt your head, the somnolence slowly leaving your system. There was no need for him to introduce himself, but okay then. It's not like you know who he is just from his name and looks alone (despite knowing a lot of doctors in your previous life). So you know that there's a chance and he isn't aware of who you are, too, which is good.
You don't want to go back to your home just yet. Everyone will question you, and you are not ready for it.
He's still staring. You noticed it seems like he is waiting for your response more than anything.
You pull back your head, straightening your form. Out of politeness, you keep up your smile, slightly widening to the point the edges of your eyes crinkle at him. "Okay." Too many words will cause unnecessary problems. It'll be embarrassing if you slip on your tongue because you want to say such long words like, 'pleased to meet you' or something.
Dr. Ujiko luckily looks decently satisfied with your reply. "Good. I'll have the others bring the books, then." He walks over to you. Just when he stands in front of you, he slowly lowers his body, sitting in a cross-leg position in front of you. "Now, let's start sitting like this first. Seiza hurts."
You blink your eyes once.
You don't really get scientists sometimes.
You follow his instruction nonetheless, standing up and then lowering your body, crossing your legs as you sit down, the numbness in them slowly decreasing (you forgot how odd seiza feels when your body wasn't used to it).
At this time, you don't know you are one year old when you first met Dr. Ujiko Daruma.
And it will take you a short time to even realize what kind of world you live in now and comprehend everything.