[Remaining Lifespan: 11 hours, 01 minute, 37 seconds]
"...Let me wish you a happy birthday in advance..."
On the bamboo house steps, Clarice handed a beautifully wrapped gift box to Rrakavasha.
The young woman should have been smiling, yet it was as if something weighed down the corners of her mouth, making it impossible for them to lift.
She tried desperately to force a smile, but her lips could only curve weakly downward.
"Don't worry. I know exactly when I'm going to die. No need to celebrate early."
"...You are a big liar. I'm afraid you'll deceive me again."
"You little thing, at least give this nearly one-hundred-seventy-five-year-old man a bit of trust."
Rrakavasha chuckled softly and accepted the gift box with both hands.
After receiving her slight nod of confirmation, he unwrapped it on the spot.
Inside lay a sachet emitting faint plum blossom fragrance, a scarf, and a hand-knitted sweater.
Rrakavasha's gaze lingered for a moment, his expression growing gentler.
"...Thank you for the gift, Clarice. I truly love it."
So everything the girl had been busy with recently was for today.
Life was truly unpredictable.
So many regrets were fated. So many connections one was never blessed to receive.
Rrakavasha understood clearly that he could give the girl no promises, nor was he permitted to.
Because he was about to die of old age.
"Try it on... see if the size fits..." Clarice said softly.
Without hesitation, Rrakavasha removed his coat and slipped on the sweater.
Perfect fit.
After putting his coat back on, just as he was about to speak, Clarice suddenly stepped closer, gently tying the scarf around his neck and lightly hanging the sachet at his waist.
They stood very close. He could smell the faint fragrance from her hair.
"It's really cold today. Thanks to your thoughtful gift."
"Liar. Your body stopped sensing temperature changes long ago..."
"True enough, I stopped feeling it ages ago. But, you see..."
Meeting Clarice's gaze, Rrakavasha took her hand and placed it over his chest, his voice soft and warm.
"This heart that hasn't stopped beating yet feels very warm right now."
Clarice stared blankly into those deep brown eyes. The gentleness that had once made her unable to resist falling remained unchanged.
But now, facing that gentleness directly, all she could do was hold back her sobs.
"On this planet, during these few days every year, the starry sky is always the most beautiful and clearest. Look up."
"Mr. Rrakavasha, are you trying to say people turn into stars after they die..."
"People don't become stars when they die. That's just a way for the living to attach their emotions to something. Look over there."
Clarice lifted her head and gazed in the direction Rrakavasha pointed.
Stars scattered across the sky like crushed diamonds, quietly shimmering in the deep night.
Along the edges of the stardust, pale blue and turquoise hues bloomed, condensing into a still river of light. No meteors streaked past. No stars suddenly dimmed.
Peaceful. Serene. Beautiful.
Clarice was completely absorbed.
In her memory, she'd never once quietly lifted her head to gaze at the night sky like this.
She'd never known stars could be so beautiful.
"Especially lovely, isn't it?"
"Yes... very beautiful..." Clarice nodded unconsciously.
If Rrakavasha weren't about to die of old age, how wonderful and romantic it would be to sit together before the bamboo house watching stars tonight.
"Mr. Rrakavasha, may I lean on your shoulder for a bit?"
"Of course."
She leaned against Rrakavasha's shoulder, greedily breathing in his scent, his presence.
The two quietly watched the starry sky, not speaking for a long time.
"Mr. Rrakavasha, tell me your story. From childhood until now, the ordinary parts, the dangerous ones, the unfortunate ones, the beautiful ones. As long as you're willing to tell, I want to hear everything..."
She wanted to remember more of his life.
If possible, she wanted to engrave his entire existence into her memory, even... all of his memories.
Aside from her mother, she only had him.
But before long, Rrakavasha would leave her completely.
He would leave nothing behind except memories.
Mother was right... Aside from memories, they had nothing at all.
"My story..."
Rrakavasha's voice grew distant, his thoughts unconsciously drifting back through the past.
People often said that before death, one experienced their life flashing before their eyes, replaying their entire existence in their mind.
Yet his time had not arrived, and still he saw so much.
"From my earliest memories, my homeland was engulfed in war. People lived as wanderers, displaced and drifting..."
"No one knew what fate awaited them the next moment."
"My parents may have died early, or perhaps they survived a bit longer. I don't know."
"I was captured as reserve food. When people were starving and couldn't find anything to eat, their own kind often became sustenance."
"The apocalypse was cruel. To survive, there was no right or wrong, only differences in human nature."
"I was locked up with a group of children and people with little ability to resist, in separate cages, for over ten days, I think."
"During that time, much of the reserve food became infected with various deadly biochemical viruses. Misfortune turned to fortune; they were discarded, no longer needing to worry about being consumed by their own kind."
"How long one could live after that, no one knew. Each day alive was one day gained..."
Clarice's already heavy heart felt even more suffocated by these words.
She deeply understood why Rrakavasha held his teacher in such reverence.
Pulling someone from bottomless darkness sometimes required nothing more than that.
...
In a desolate land, a manor stood alone.
Ruan Mei set down the observation lens in her hand and lifted her indifferent face toward the ceiling.
Even deep underground, the laboratory could faintly hear thunder, a testament to how fierce the storm outside raged.
She glanced at the failed specimen on the experimental table and habitually prepared to order her "Vash" to clean it up.
But when she saw that familiar yet lifeless face, the words Yu Qingtu had spoken before leaving echoed in her mind.
For no apparent reason, a rare hint of irritation rose in her heart.
Naturally, Ruan Mei didn't think this was influenced by those words. After a brief thought, she attributed her mood to stagnating research progress.
"...I'll take a walk."
Taking the elevator up from the underground laboratory, the moment the heavy door opened, a thunderbolt tore through the pitch-black sky.
Rain poured down like a waterfall.
Ruan Mei paused.
She'd never seen rain this heavy.
No... she had.
Countless memory fragments flashed before her eyes, finally settling on a scene from over a hundred years ago.
The day she first met Vash, it had been a storm like this.
She'd stood at the edge of a deep pit holding an oil-paper umbrella, looking down at the small figure curled among piles of rotting corpses, her gaze indifferent.
She remembered that child's eyes.
Numb. Hollow.
When those gradually unfocusing eyes noticed her, a faint glimmer appeared, so slight it seemed almost illusory.
Before that light completely dimmed, it trembled, condensing into something she'd never seen before. Very faint, very light...
Relief, and concern.
Yes, concern.
Not concerned for his own impending death, but concerned that she might, like him, become infected with a deadly virus.
He'd likely accepted his fate, yet didn't wish to see anyone else suffer as he had.
Thunder roared, deafening. The rain seemed determined to swallow the world, falling with desperate force.
"Do you want to live?"
Her voice had been very soft, barely audible amid the thunderstorm.
Yet the child's dark gray lips slowly moved, forming a silent syllable.
"...I do..."
And so, she'd let Vash live.
She'd never expected that in the blink of an eye, nearly one hundred sixty-nine years would pass.
Thinking of it now, she suddenly felt the urge to see him again and reminisce.
But within seconds, the thought extinguished itself.
Vash had graduated over a hundred years ago. Now he was... where exactly?
He'd seemingly never told her.
Forget it. The research was far from a stage where it could pause. No need to contact him.
With his intellect, even if he couldn't compare to scholars renowned across the universe, advancing the biotechnology of an ordinary world civilization should be effortless.
The knowledge she'd taught him was sufficient to cure all mortal incurable diseases, including multiple methods to extend one's lifespan to at least eight hundred years.
He'd said he wanted to live.
Only a little over a hundred years had passed. Far too early for her to worry.
"I'll bathe, then continue my research."
Ruan Mei walked steadily toward the hot spring bath.