Work Text:
Sometimes I wonder…
If I was given a second chance, if I was told everything that would happen if I kept it, would I still have this head of mine?
Some days it seems as if this thing gives me nothing but trouble. No one outside the Sinners can understand me, I can’t participate whenever the conversation steers toward something to do with food or hometowns or anything like that, and most of the time I get ignored in favor of one of the others when we’re out on business despite being the Manager.
And turning the clock, well… The downsides with that are obvious. I've gotten better at dealing with the pain (hard not to be when the first couple instances ended in me passing out), but I never really… get used to it. Even if something like that is possible (and I’m pretty sure it isn’t), it feels like the Sinners find enough new ways to die that I’m always getting the chance to feel a variety of pain I never thought was possible.
…I probably shouldn’t joke about something like that. I don’t know if it’s easy to do so because they don’t take it that seriously anymore or I’m starting to become numb to it. I try not to think about it much. Can’t say I’m a fan of either option.
It’s not all bad, though. Imagine what would happen if I couldn’t bring them back? That day out in the forest made it clear I wouldn’t last more than a few seconds on my own, and the near-death experiences I’ve had since then haven’t changed my opinion on that one bit. More importantly, they’d all be gone.
I wouldn’t get to hear Gregor crack jokes or Rodya try and keep everyone’s spirits up. One of Don Quixote’s stories would end on a cliffhanger, and I’d never get to hear the end. Ishmael wouldn’t sigh and Outis wouldn’t try to whip everyone into shape. Yi Sang wouldn’t help Sinclair with chess. I wouldn’t see Meursault in the middle of his morning routine. Hong Lu wouldn’t get the chance to genuinely smile. No smoke tricks from Ryoshu. No outbursts from Heathcliff. No lessons from Faust.
Now that I think about it, I wouldn’t have been able to help them in other ways if it weren’t for this head of mine, either. We couldn’t have caught up with the Heathcliff from another world if I hadn’t been able to slow down time. Don Quixote might not have been able to stand up against the Don Quixote of La Manchaland. And there’s no way we ever could have come close to challenging Lei Heng on our own.
So it’s not as if I don’t know how important my head really is. It’s just…
I wish I’d had the choice to begin with is all.
Sure, the “me” that still had their memories may have thought this was the best route to take, but I don’t know if I can even consider that me and the person I am now to be the same person. It’s not just that I don’t know anything about who I was before, it’s that I can’t even tell who I am now. Not really. After all, if something were to happen and all the Sinners were to disappear tomorrow, well…
I’m their Manager. I know I can’t keep them around forever. They have their own lives to live, and it’s not my place to stop them from living it. I don’t want to stop them from living it. But what happens to the Manager when there’s no longer anyone to manage?
…I never did answer the question I started off with, did I?
Would I keep this head of mine if I had a second chance? If I knew I would lose my memories but would get to know the people I know now, would I make the same decisions?
The truth is… I still don’t know. It’s not the pain or the way people see me that makes me hesitate. I just don’t want whatever version of me that comes about as a result to feel the same way I did at the start. The same way I still do some days. But I don’t want to leave the people I care about to suffer, either. Maybe it’s selfish of me to want the best of both. Maybe it’s just human.