Chương 7: Role Without A Self: Chapter 6

As The Fake Saintess's Revenge was approaching its first major turning point of the book, the death of the main character before the rebirth and revenge plot truly began, everything seemed to be moving far too fast for Nina. Even though she logically understood that Nate had to die for the revenge to actually begin, she still hated the idea of it happening. It was a rebirth revenge story. Emma had told her that from the beginning.

Nina knew that, logically, the protagonist would have to die at some point for the story to work, and she understood that the entire purpose of this genre was built around loss, death, and the desire to take back what was stolen. She understood it. But that did not stop her from wishing that somehow, somehow, Nate would make it through. That he would survive.

That he would leave everything behind and live peacefully in the countryside with his sister, away from all the suffering that had followed him for his entire life. She had even been looking forward to the reunion five years later, where all the heroes would meet again and see how everyone had changed, where they would laugh about their past struggles and be grateful that they had all survived.

They had promised each other before going off to fight the great threat that they would all stay alive until they met again. Nina had been excited for that day. So even though she knew this was a rebirth revenge story, and even though she knew Nate had to die for the plot to actually begin, she still did not want it to happen. And because of the way Saintess Seraphina Valcrest operated, Nina genuinely thought there was a chance. Seraphina had everything planned down to the smallest detail.

Even though Nina knew everything was part of a larger play created by the Saintess herself, she still found herself getting angry at her. I mean, seriously? What was she supposed to think? At the same time, Nina understood that the level of cruelty Seraphina used could have been much worse, and if the Saintess truly intended to get Nate and his sister out safely like she had promised from the beginning, then perhaps this was the only method that would actually work.

But what Nina could not understand was how the Duke found out. Actually, forget the Duke. Right now, she was angry at Nate. She had only just learned his name, and she was already furious with him. Absolutely furious. Seraphina had somehow managed to deactivate his magic suppressor without alerting anyone. Without alerting anyone! And then the Duke appeared. Even if the Duke had his sister, Nate should have known that the magical restraints around him were still active.

If he tried to use too much magic while they were still connected, his own body would reject it. His head would practically fly off. He would have basically decapitated himself. And he still tried to fight? Why? He was so stupid. It was so annoying. She thought this guy was supposed to be smart. Then again, this was the same person who disguised himself as a girl and infiltrated a temple just to protect his sister. Fine. She could understand that. That was actually clever. But this? This was different.

Why would he do that? It was one thing to think about fighting back, but couldn't he at least pretend to be calm? That was the entire point. Freedom was right there. Right there. And he just had to announce to everyone that the Saintess had unlocked his magic suppressor. You idiot!

"Ahahaha!" Whenever Nina became too overwhelmed by what was happening in a story, she would sometimes get up from her seat and walk around her room, taking deep breaths before sitting back down and continuing. But this time was different. This one was genuinely difficult for her to handle. She found herself struggling to breathe. The emotions were becoming too much, and before she even realized it, her hand had already reached toward the paper bag she always kept nearby. The paper bag itself was nothing special.

It was simply something that had once held the gifts Emma gave her as a housewarming present when Nina moved into her new apartment about a year ago. Afterward, she kept it. Emma had insisted on celebrating the move because, according to her, it was a huge step forward. Even though Nina lived in an apartment complex, Emma did not care.

"It's the place you come back to every day," she had said.

"The place you sleep and rest. That makes it a home, and if it's a home, then it deserves a housewarming party." After their fun night of eating, drinking pop, and having barbecue together, Emma had given Nina several toiletries, sanitary supplies, and household necessities before helping her bring everything back to the apartment. Afterward, the two of them had gone upstairs together. Emma had said she needed to use the washroom, so she asked Nina if she could use it.

She lightly joked that even though it was Nina's place, since she was practically using the washroom for the first time, that technically meant it was a house of two. However, when Emma noticed Nina's uncomfortable expression, she immediately clarified that she was joking and that Nina should not take it seriously. But Nina knew. She absolutely knew. Emma had never hidden the fact that she always wanted them to live together, because she wanted to check on Nina and make sure she was okay.

But she also respected Nina's desire for her own space and independence, so she never forced the idea. The only thing Emma never backed down from, the one thing she always tried to compromise on, was that Nina needed to leave her parents' house and build a life outside of it. Even if Emma was not going to share that space with her, she wanted Nina to have somewhere she could truly feel free.

When Emma left to use the washroom, Nina, who had always been surrounded by noise and constant movement, suddenly felt a strange emptiness. The room became eerily quiet. And that quietness reminded her of something Emma had once said.

"If it's the place you always return to, the place you sleep, then it's home." As Nina followed that thought, she remembered telling her parents about moving out and how annoyed they had been that she never told them sooner. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. But the real reason they were upset was because they would no longer have someone available to help with her sick sister. That realization had hurt more than she wanted to admit.

At the time, she never had the chance to process it because her sister always needed her. She had always been too busy making sure someone else was okay. But now the silence was too loud. The quiet was too loud. And her mind started to panic. Quietness was dangerous. Quietness meant something was wrong. Either her sister was sick, or something terrible was about to happen. She hated the quiet. Nina did not remember much of what happened after that.

Most of the day existed only as scattered fragments in her memory, disconnected pieces that refused to properly fit together no matter how hard she tried to arrange them. The one thing she did remember clearly was Emma's voice.

"Breathe." That was what she remembered most. Not the panic. Not the fear. Not the overwhelming feeling that something terrible was about to happen. Just Emma's voice.

"Breathe." The next day, Emma had explained what happened. According to her, when she came out of the washroom, she found Nina huddled up in a corner, hyperventilating so badly that she could barely get a proper breath into her lungs. Emma admitted that she had suspected something like this might happen eventually. Not necessarily that day. Not necessarily at that moment. But eventually.

Nina had spent so much of her life constantly moving from one problem to another, constantly helping someone, constantly worrying about someone, that Emma had always wondered what would happen when all of that suddenly stopped and Nina was left alone with her own thoughts. Apparently, the answer was not a pleasant one. Emma had quickly helped her.

Throughout the entire ordeal, she had stayed beside her, continuously talking to her, continuously reminding her to breathe, continuously trying to pull her attention away from whatever spiral her thoughts had fallen into. Later, after things had finally calmed down enough for Nina to stop hyperventilating, Emma helped her onto the bed. Even then, she refused to leave. She simply sat there. Watching. Waiting. Making sure Nina was actually okay.

Eventually, Emma took her to see a doctor so that she could receive medication to help manage the anxiety and panic attacks. Afterward, once they returned home, Emma carefully explained everything the doctor had told her, repeating some parts multiple times just to make sure Nina actually remembered it. Then she handed over the medication and the paper bag.

"Any time you're not sure what to do," Emma had said, holding the bag out toward her, "I want you to breathe into this as hard as you can, then breathe normally, then do it again." Nina stared at the bag. Emma continued.

"And if that doesn't help, call me." Nina opened her mouth. Emma immediately pointed a finger at her.

"Not a text." Nina closed her mouth.

"A call." Nina sighed. Emma narrowed her eyes.

"A real phone call."

"I heard you the first time."

"I don't think you did." Nina rolled her eyes. Emma ignored her.

"I'll stay on the phone with you every time if I have to." Nina wanted to refuse. She really wanted to refuse. She hated being a burden. She hated needing help. She hated the idea of making someone worry about her. But when she looked at Emma's face and saw the exhaustion there, the tired eyes and the concern that Emma was trying very hard not to show too openly, she could not bring herself to say no. This girl was doing all of this because she cared. So Nina simply took the bag and nodded.

That should have been the end of it. It wasn't. Emma continued staring at her. She opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Closed it again. Then opened it a third time before stopping herself once more. Nina watched the entire process with growing confusion. After several more attempts, she finally sighed.

"What is it?" Emma immediately looked away. That only made Nina more suspicious.

"What is it?" she repeated. Emma bit her lip. For a few seconds, she looked like she was debating whether or not she should even ask. Then, finally, she spoke.

"Can I ask why?" Nina frowned.

"Why what?"

"Why this happened." Silence settled between them. Nina looked away. She already knew the answer. She just did not particularly like it. For several moments, neither of them spoke. Then Nina finally opened her mouth.

"The silence." Emma waited. Nina swallowed.

"It was too loud." The moment those words left her mouth, Emma started crying. Actually crying. Nina froze. This was a problem, a very large problem. She had seen Emma cry before. Emma cried surprisingly often and because of that she had a remarkable ability to cry over almost anything in a way that did not ruin her makeup or ruin her feng shui. But this was different, Emma had completely broken down. The tears simply kept coming, composure be damned. Nina sat there, horrified.

Emma was crying and she had absolutely no idea what she was supposed to do about it. Was she supposed to hug her? Pat her shoulder? Offer tissues? Or maybe just run away? What was the socially acceptable response to this situation? Nina asked herself, but she had no idea. Eventually, all she could do was awkwardly sit there and wait for Emma to recover on her own. Unfortunately, Emma cried herself so hard that she ended up being sick. Which somehow made the situation even worse.

In the end, the rest of the day was spent at Nina's house with one person recovering from a panic attack and the other recovering from crying herself sick. Neither of them could even make fun of the other because both of them were equally pathetic. The next day, Nina called the school and informed them that she would not be coming in. Emma ended up calling out of work as well, but instead of staying at Nina's home, she ran off saying that she needed to do something.

After Emma left, Nina was alone again, but this time it felt different. It wasn't that the quiet, the silence, was too loud. No. She could faintly hear people in other rooms of the building, some talking, some arguing, some playing below, but all of it was muffled behind the walls, and as more time passed, more people left for work or school, causing the building to grow quieter and quieter.

Nina had been sitting there, staring at the wall for quite some time, but when she finally came to, she found that there wasn't even the faintest sound coming from any of her neighbors. Maybe I should go back, she thought. Maybe, just maybe, Emma was wrong. I... I don't feel right about this. Could it be that I abandoned my family? Are they angry with me? She chuckled to herself. Of course they're angry. They told me that the day I left. They also told me not to come back. She placed a hand over her chest.

Everything seems normal. I'm not having trouble breathing. This is all so strange. What if... what if it happens again? This time I was able to get through it because Emma was there, but I'm not sure if I can do it next time. Does this mean I'm sick? Wait, if I'm considered sick, would that mean my family- BANG! Emma threw the door open. Emma walked in carrying two large boxes while her brother followed behind her with an armful of items. Nina blinked. Emma immediately began unpacking the contents of the boxes.

What Nina saw was a collection of speakers, children's toys, and all sorts of things designed to make noise. There was even a children's step piano. Every time someone stepped on one of the keys, it played a sound.

"Emma, what are you doing?" Nina asked.

"I'm helping you defeat the silence," Emma declared.

"The silence can never beat noise. Specifically curated noise. Not random noise. Carefully selected noise. Guaranteed by yours truly." She pointed proudly at the boxes.

"I spent a lot of time putting this together." Meanwhile, her brother was busy setting up some of the more complicated equipment.

"So what is actually going on?" Nina asked.

"Well," her brother said, "Emma told us about the situation." He scratched the back of his head.

"So for the past couple of days, we've been recording ordinary things happening around the house. Just normal everyday sounds."

"It's only been two days so far, but don't worry. We'll record more and send them to you."

"That way we can create a sense of randomness. Different sounds, different activities, different recordings."

"We can even get recordings from other places if necessary."

"Even if it's artificial, hopefully it'll help recreate the feeling of people being around."

"You guys don't need to do that," Nina said.

"Oh, we do," he replied.

"I hope you'll accept it as our way of thanking you for everything you've done for Emma."

"Without you, I'm not sure we'd still have her."

"And this is one way we can repay you." Before Nina could respond, Emma suddenly called out.

"Nina! Come here! You need to see this!" Nina walked over.

"What are those?" she asked. Emma held up a small novelty toy.

"You know those things that make noise when you smack them together?" She grinned.

"Isn't this cute?"

"I've set it to make a sound every hour."

"I could set it to completely random intervals, but I figured we'd start simple."

"You can turn it off at night if you want."

"Actually, no. If it's too quiet at night, leave it on."

"Never let the silence win." Nina stared at her. Emma looked entirely serious. A little while later, a sudden loud noise echoed through the apartment. Nina turned toward the source. The culprit was a cymbal-banging monkey. She stared at it deeply. When she first got it, Nina found it quite annoying. But she eventually got used to it before putting it in a setting she didn't mind and oddly enough, it helped. Every now and then, the random noises interrupted her spiraling thoughts and forced her attention elsewhere.

Most of the time, her overthinking led her somewhere unpleasant. This time, however, she found herself thinking about something different. At least the monkey would never do something as stupid as Nate Monet.