The red yarn of nostalgia wound around my neck.
The first thing I felt was clarity.
The sense that everything was distinct and in its proper place.
“…….”
I blinked.
I could blink.
Eyelids and eyebrows. The field of vision seen through my corneas was clear….
I looked down at my hands.
There, without black rubber, was the hand of a human being, bare skin fully exposed.
I clenched and unclenched my bare hand.
Right.
This was what it had originally felt like.
This was what it had felt like.
The shock naturally faded, leaving only traces behind, and only familiarity remained.
Natural emotions and sensations.
And into that place came a familiar feeling I had forgotten as well.
Right. Feeling.
I definitely, this….
Tap.
…….
…….
I lowered my head.
There is no bare hand.
All I can see there are sacred hooves and scales attached to shapeless flesh that is melting down…
I force gloves onto it.
Force them on.
Force them on.
“…Roe Deer?”
Force them on.
Force them on.
Done.
Human fingers.
Fingers with a silhouette similar to a human’s come into view.
And through them, I can see it.
The floor.
On the floor lies a single strand of thread that looks worn out beyond repair.
Frayed, dirty, discolored, no longer of any value—
The yarn had snapped.
“…!”
“Wait….”