Chapter 3: III- It by Asao

"Welcome Asao my child. Welcome to a world that only wishes you to disappear. Cry today, because tomorrow you won't have that privilege."

That's what my father told me the day I was born. 5 years later, he still had this habit of giving me sterile answers.

"Father?" I called out to him as I looked out of the window at our beautiful, immaculate garden in this blanket of snow.

"Yes."

"Why am I not allowed out?"

"There is nothing good out there. You're not mature enough. I must protect you from the outside."

"But the children in these books can go outside."

"These children are not as precious as you are."

"What does that mean?"

He looked at me, smiled, and then resumed his reading, leaving me still without an answer.

10 years later, he resumed his experiments intending to improve me. He wanted me to be perfect, he wanted me to be the product that not even God could equal. That scared me, I had the impression that we were heading towards a destiny close to that of Icarus.

"Father, it hurts!" I said, suffering from yet another operation.

"I know my child. But you must bear it, soon you will be perfect."

I had no say in the matter. I didn't even have any power over my existence. I just followed him and endured it. Did I have a choice? No. And even if I did, what could I do?

"A homunculus has no conscience" that's my father's everyday sentence. He also says that I must follow him because he is the only one who can guide me on the right path.

2 years later, I celebrated my 17th birthday. Father wasn't there, he had a conference in Tokymo, the capital. He had left me some money in case I wanted to buy something, knowing full well that I wasn't going to buy anything.

I was walking around the house after finishing my treatment. I stopped in front of a mirror where I could see myself in detail. I am small for my age, probably 163cm, I have long wavy black hair that lay on my hip. I have black almond-shaped eyes, a small nose, plump and rosy cheeks, and a pink and plump mouth. Finally, I am thin but not skinny and have a marked waist.

My father said I was beautiful but I didn't understand this compliment. What did he compare me to when he said I was so beautiful? Probably the people he sees every day when he goes to work. I would like to see them too. I would like to meet other people, have friends, fall in love, go out in the evenings, take trips like in the many books I had read.

I sighed tired of life and went to my room.

When I arrived, I retreated to the hammock hanging in the middle of my room as usual. I picked up a book as I passed by, opened the picture window to let the daylight in when I saw a silhouette in the garden.

My first reflex was to sound the security alarm but I changed my mind when I saw a red liquid lying on the lawn.

But how did it get past the first security gates?

With a trembling hand, I opened the glass window, letting in a violent smell of blood and sweat. With my hand on my nose I approached the silhouette I identified as a man. In any case, his morphology allowed me to do so.

I crouched down in front of him and looked at him without doing anything.

A human, there was a human other than my father in front of me. What should I do? I could leave him here until... No, he'll kill him for sure. I could take care of him and hide him in my room. No, he'll probably notice. But...

"I don't want you to die," I said in a trembling voice.

So I turned him over on his back, paying attention to his wounds. Then I picked him up by his armpits and pulled him to my room. Unsurprisingly, he began to whine.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." I repeated during the maneuver.

Once in my room, I had him lay on the tile floor. Then I began to undress him until he was completely naked. I analyzed his wounds quickly and then went to my treatment room to take the necessary items.

Back in my room, he was still there but a pool of blood surrounded him. He was sweating and shivering at the same time, probably due to the fever.

This idea was confirmed when I approached him to start treating him. I put my hand on his forehead to free his locks of hair where I felt a strong heat emanating from it.

I started by cleaning him from the dirt stuck to his body, starting with his face. Then, with a delicacy, I linger on all parts of his body revealing a tanned body riddled with scars.

After finishing his back, I insisted on the wounds without paying attention to his groans of pain. I put him with difficulty on the stretcher I had brought back.

Out of breath and with red cheeks I took the care kit ready to disinfect his wounds, starting with the most serious one on his right side.

That's when he grabbed my hand, opened his eyes, and inked them into my eyes before saying in an almost inaudible voice.

"Asao, is that you?"

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