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Once upon a time, I dreamt I was a butterfly, fluttering hither and thither, to all intents and purposes a butterfly. I was conscious only of my happiness as a butterfly, unaware that I was myself.
Caterpillar feels a vague warmth inside his chest. It's odd. He thinks he only rarely experiences this kind of warmth…up until very recently, anyways.
In those moments of the warmth's absence, there's just this frigidity following him. It's not that he hates it though. He hadn't really understood what hatred is, let alone experience it. Still, once this warmth found its way inside his chest, it's difficult to let go.
It's just blue mixes with green as far as Caterpillar's eyes could see. The sound of the waterfalls eases his senses. The faint fragrance of sunflowers hangs around for a little while before fading into the background. Caterpillar walks barefoot to the top of the hill, half-heartedly chasing a golden butterfly; he feels the grass biting his feet...he still hadn't found a way to describe this feeling to Lanoire. Well, she will learn it by her own experience anyways, he decided. That would be for the best.
It's not a steep hill, but Caterpillar feels tired climbing it. Perhaps he had been neglecting to exercise properly.
Turn out, Caterpillar isn't the only person there. Once he reaches the top, there are already a group of young teenagers setting up for their picnic. As if in a trance and as if forgetting the fear of being discovered, Caterpillar approaches them…
Certainly well-prepared that they are. These children brought themselves pens, notebooks, pencils, a sketchbook, and of course refreshments – a whole lot of them – ranging from cookies to pies to cakes. Still, the thing that catches his attention is a humble-looking Kamera.
Caterpillar has witnessed many of Fontaine's technological achievements, and Kameras are probably on the lower end on the scale of impressiveness. Not to mention that even among its peers, this Kamera is mediocre at best. But for reasons unknown to himself, Caterpillar cannot stop staring at it with a feeling akin to…longing.
As they finally take the final item out of the picnic basket, the only adult in the group starts cutting the strawberry shortcake. He looks unhealthily pale and thin. And though Caterpillar is aware that making such judgements after seeing so little would be a bit premature, Caterpillar doesn't think that man has a lot of time left anymore.
How weak.
The way the man's hands shake as he uses the knife, almost causing him to accidentally cut himself, makes Caterpillar even more confident of his conclusion.
How clumsy.
But even then, that ill man laughs, and the kids surrounding him couldn't help but laugh along. Even when Death is essentially breathing down his neck, that man still manages to make the children surrounding him laughs. And then they talk about anything and everything: from how the dog the girl in red owns, to the new drawing inside the boy in purple’s sketchbook, to the highly technical research that the boy with goggles is doing, to the interesting ruins stones that the boy with hazel eyes spotted on their way. That is when the children left their half or two-third eaten cakes on the picnic mat, temporarily bidding farewell to the adult in the group to go explore around the area.
All alone, but the man does not seem disheartened in the slightest. He hums a very familiar lullaby, seemingly very comfortable with himself. With an unshakable faith, he knows that the children will return to him.
Caterpillar enviously wishes he could have that too.
How awfully, awfully...human.
“Here, yours too!”
Before Caterpillar knows it, he's already sitting on the picnic blanket, and that man is essentially shoving the slice of the shortcake in his face.
“Sorry” Caterpillar turns down the cake, a bit flustered “…isn't this supposed to be yours?”
“The doctor said I should cut down my sugar intake.” The man scratches his head awkwardly as he gestures to Caterpillar to keep this a secret. “Don't tell the others though, they'll be worried.”
Caterpillar darts his lightless eyes around before finally reluctantly nods his head.
“Right,” He mumbles, finally taking the plate. “Thank you. I guess.”
“It should be good, I think. I mean, I hope it is, I made all the sweets after all. My previous caretaker wasn’t really great at cooking. Heck, she was terrible at it, so I took it upon myself to learn how to make these. My friends like them, so…” The man adds an awkward and unnecessary remark, as if he is allergic to silence or something. Caterpillar wonders if he should point out to the man that he is oversharing.
“Anyways, you should eat more.” He goes on and on, poking Caterpillar's cheek. “You are still technically a child.”
Already about to take a bite, but Caterpillar put both the fork and the plate down. He feels somewhat…uncomfortable.
“Do you really believe so?”
Perhaps noticing Caterpillar's unease, that man sounds a little bit apologetic. “…I don't know. I mean, I am not as smart as them.” He clumsily blabbers on and on, not noticing how he makes the situation more awkward already. Or maybe he does notice it, but he does not know how to fix it. “But I do know that I want to cheer you up a bit. I want you to be happy…but that's…”
“It's fine.” Caterpillar interrupts the man in what he views as a socialisational rescue. “I am not unhappy.”
Though that is dodging the question a bit, Caterpillar was technically being honest. The truth is he, as he is right now and ever was, experiences neither happiness nor unhappiness. After all, the other was being so sincere that it becomes awkward, the least that Caterpillar can do to salvage this is somewhat bring himself down to his level.
“I know this sounds naive,” the man let out a long sigh as he slowly curling his body into a foetal position, as if hiding from something. “But I just want everyone to be happy…You and…these kids too…I want to watch them grow up.”
The soft wind lightly brushes against Caterpillar's skin as he ruminates this. Even he himself doesn't know why he is taking this so seriously. The laughter from afar of the children put him deeper in sleep…and he blurts out.
“I have a child that I have to take care of as well.”
“Lanoire, right? She's an adorable child.” The man smiles as he empathically nods. “Sort of reminds me of Ann.”
“Ah, that's Alain,” He continues, pointing at the child adorning a pair of goggles on his head. “Ann's older brother. Don't let his initial frosty manner fool you, he's actually quite a sentimental and warm child when you get to know him.”
“Over there is Rene.” He moves his finger to point at the child who is hunching over a stone slate, closely inspecting it. “The only person in this entire world whose genius could be a match for Alain. You know, despite his smile, I can tell that there's something weighing his mind, but he won't tell a soul about it.”
“You seem to be very proud of them.”
The man doesn't reply, but the bright smile on his face is more than enough of a concurrence.
Still with an almost inane smile on his face, the man points to the boy wearing the purple coat, who is trying his best not to dirty his clothes as he adds another entry to his sketchbook. “And there is…”
“Please, no. I do not wish to know that person’s name.”
Before Caterpillar knows when and why, he blurts out. This is almost a…defence mechanism.
The man eyes slightly open a bit wider in surprise before he half closes them in his disappointment. Or is that meant to be shame?
“Yeah. Guessed as much.” He sighs in defeat.
It is tranquil like that for a little bit. Neither Caterpillar nor the man feels compelled to say anything. The golden butterfly finds some rest on top of the man’s shoulder; its wings stay still, it feels safe enough not to be on guard. Time is seemingly frozen in place. Or perhaps Caterpillar is just stuck somewhere that time itself cannot reach.
“██!”
It feels like something in the back of Caterpillar’s mind shatters. He feels as if the outer layer of his heart was mercilessly torn down, and his heart is now exposed and laid bare for that child to once again study. Suddenly, he feels so weak and so afraid.
“███,” the man response to the child, who is sweating profusely but still refuses to take his coat off, by patting his head. “Is there anything wrong?”
“██, ██, there’s a field of sunflower over there!” Said the child excitedly. He is practically dancing around. “You have to see!”
The man can only show a weak smile, not daring to look directly at the tiny hand that was extended to him. And it takes the boy a few moments, but he finally understands. When he does, his cheerful and enthusiastic manner turns into that of anxiousness. He looks like he is about to cry already.
But he didn’t cry. Very quickly and very forcefully, the smile returns to his trembling lips.
“I guess I can draw and then show them to you!” His grip on the sketchbook tightens. “Please rest. Don’t push yourself.”
And the boy rushes over to his friends’ place again, to the field of sunflowers and laughter – a world that Caterpillar himself will never be a part of, a world that that boy himself will slowly destroy.
“Are you not afraid of him? That person, I mean.” Caterpillar asks, still unconsciously holding his breath.
“Afraid…” The man does not answer immediately, but he seems to understand what Caterpillar is talking about. Still when he speaks again, he speaks confidently. “No, I cannot be afraid of him.”
Ignoring Caterpillar’s puzzlement, he continues. “Even if…even when that boy rots my body and then split it into pieces, I cannot bring myself to be afraid of him. Because…if I am afraid of him, he must be even more afraid of himself. What a terribly shy child he is, after all.” Despite all this certainty and determination, the man still laughs at himself at the end. “I know it’s sort of arrogant, but as always, as right now and as in the past or the future, I want to stay strong for them.”
Caterpillar absorbs these words in full, a bit surprised to see himself almost completely understanding what the man is saying. He wonders if this is what his Master wants him to understand all along.
“So, you are a human.” Said Caterpillar to the man sitting next to him. What an odd thing to say, in hindsight.
“Um.” The man nods, not being bothered by how strange Caterpillar’s comment was. “Caterpillar, do you want to be a human?”
“They hope that I would become a human–”
“It’s not about that.” The man cut Caterpillar off. “I asked you what you yourself want.”
Seeing that Caterpillar is still unable to answer, the man becomes somewhat…disappointed. But as gentle as always, he adds with a wry smile. “Keep thinking about that, would you? Because only then, would you be able to be happy.”
“What about yourself, then?” Asked Caterpillar, not in curiosity, but in a kind of fear and desperate that he does not know the face of. “Are you happy?”
The man blinks twice before a chuckle escapes his throat. He does not expect this question, it seems like.
“I’m…not sure.” He awkwardly scratches his head again. “I just know that right now, I am filled with sorrow and regrets.”
He lowers his volume, as if, if he says it softer, then it would be like he hadn’t say anything at all. As if he is confessing to Caterpillar his most shameful sin.
“This life…I pretended that I have already accepted it, but I cannot deceive anyone, could I? Not the children, not even someone as foolish as myself. Yes. I still want to live. Even when I thought I have made peace with it…This life is still too short.”
The man breaks into tears. His tired bones, which had long been worn down by illnesses and the endless expectations that other people placed on him only to follow by their disappointments and then the fear of never be able to do enough, are finally crushed under the realisation that he would never be able to do enough.
“All the hopes Mother had for me, and Vice Director and Director Lyris too…And the children, I want to stay by their side, to encourage them, to witness their brilliance at least until they become grown-ups. I know I am not that bright, but I want to guide them so that they won’t stray away…”
There just isn’t enough strength or time. Still though, when are there enough strength and time ever?
“But I am getting greedy, am I not?” The man once again laughs at himself. “If I get to see them becoming proper adults, I will want to accompany them a bit longer…and longer.”
After a while, the man finally manages to return to his inane smile as he clumsily wipes off the tears on his face. But even as stupid as it is, it is just so vulnerable and genuine, so sincere that it hurt more than any imitation of amicability that Caterpillar was forced to endure through.
“Either way, being this broken up about not having much time left means the time I spent here was happy, right? I guess…I really was really, very, genuinely happy.”
“You…”
“You know, I really want my next life to be happy in my stead. So, figure yourself out for me too. Please be happy, as a human or as what they call monster. Just please, be happy.”
Caterpillar is left speechless. It’s not that what that man said was too absurd…it was simply…too honest to comprehend. Caterpillar wonders if he could ever be that honest, and he finds himself being jealous again.
“I know you have to wake up eventually, but can you fulfill this selfish request of mine?”
“Huh?”
“Just…dream for a little while longer.” The man mumbles, tears silently trickling down his pale cheeks. “You want to watch them play a bit more.”
The sound of waterfalls becomes deafening to Caterpillar as the fragrance of sunflowers chokes him and the grass stabs through his skin. Caterpillar suddenly finds it incredibly difficult to breath. His own flesh is wearing him down. The love in his heart spread to every corner of his body: from the tips of his toes to his brain, paralysing him. Is this…what it meant to be human?
“██! We’re back!” Yelled the girl in red, no, Ann, Mary-Ann. “Today was fun, I really should have brought Seymour with me.”
“Scherbius. There are some interesting things we’ve found.” The boy with– no, that’s Alain. Alain still fakes that unemotional as always, but it has become obvious that he is holding back his excitement. “Want a brief summary?”
Narz– Rene’s pleased expression shifts into a more serious one as soon as he reaches the picnic blanket. As always, that perceptive child must have noticed something. “You don’t look well. Shall we return first?”
“Carter! Carter!” The child in purple, the boy with the sketchbook, the wicked mage, Sir Ingold, the two-faced Baptist, the cruel Apostle, the deranged zealot of Narzissenkreuz, Jakob, Jakob tugs his arm. “I drew the sunflowers! Look!”
Before he knows it, the golden butterfly has firmly rested within himself, bringing the warmth that he cannot help but cherish. Being utterly powerless, he could only stare into the lightless emerald eyes of the person next to him, feeling that sudden frigidity when the other stares back.
“Carter? Are you alright?”
“Scherbius?”
“Carter? Can you hear me?”
“Carter!”
“…Cater!”
The blond girl finally let out a sigh of relief as her brother finally opens his eyes.
“You wake up! Finally.” She smiles, once again cleaning off the wrinkles on her purple dress. “Look, I got dressed and brushed my teeth already. You sure sleep-in today. Hurry up and change too before the wicked mage forces us to go to work–”
She stops her sentence half-way, noticing something odd.
“Cater, did you…cry in your sleep?”
Caterpillar flinches, but it takes him less than a moment to laughs at himself again.
“No, this is…someone else’s tears. I think…I hope.”
Soon I awaked, and there I was, veritably myself again. Now I do not know whether I was then Caterpillar dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly, dreaming I am Caterpillar.