✧ Stigma — Chapter XVIII: “Monomania” ✧

Victorian Prose / Oscar Wilde Style Translation

The pain in his legs was beyond anything ordinary. He could go nowhere today. The room was so dark he could no longer tell whether it was day or night. Golden Week was drawing to its close, and yet— why was he still here, in this place devoid of time?

His legs hurt. No— that was not the truth.

What truly ached was his heart. His heart, Eiji.

He no longer wished to see a single ray of light.

Yes—he had sealed the shutters, layer upon layer of tape pressed tight, until even the daylight could not trespass.

In a room where no light could enter, he could finally—finally— find the faintest scrap of calm.

Without such darkness, he could no longer breathe properly.

In the dimness of dawn, the image of Eiji had risen before him— the boy exhausted beyond recognition, wearing a black long‑sleeved shirt far too large for him.

He could still recall the scent that clung to that shirt: the Downy he would never use, the cigarette smoke he would never inhale— a mingled fragrance that lingered in memory like a bruise.

Eiji’s hollow eyes, his ghost‑like pallor, the wounded expression that did not even register Masah’s presence— a face shattered beyond repair.

Masah had tried to speak, but Eiji’s muttering drowned him out:

“I’m… filth…”

And in that moment, Masah understood. He knew where Eiji had been. He knew it had not been by Eiji’s own will.

He had been taken— dragged— into Louis’s room.

Masah could never forgive it. Never.

From behind the violently slammed apartment door, he had heard Eiji’s stifled sobs— heard him apologize again and again:

“Masah… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

Crying, choking back his voice, as though even breathing were a sin.

Masah had stood frozen at the entrance, unable to ring the doorbell. He knew that questioning Eiji would only wound him further.

He could only tremble.

With rage. With the cruelty of reality. With the sting of betrayal.

He had believed— believed with all his being— that Louis would never do such a thing.

And yet—Louis had.

He had preyed upon Eiji’s weakness for alcohol, taken advantage of his drunken collapse—

Masah’s head felt ready to explode.

The pain, the humiliation, the hatred— and, impossibly— the envy.

Envy of that beast of a man.

Masah recoiled from himself, his entire body bristling with horror. Had he, too, wished to commit such a terrible act? Toward Eiji? No— no!

He fled. Down the stairs, across the road.

A car screeched to a halt, the driver shouting curses— but none of it mattered.

What had Louis done to Eiji— to Eiji who had been unconscious?

Masah wanted that? He desired that?

No!

Such cowardice— such vileness— such degradation— could never be forgiven.

Eiji had been driven to believe he was filth. Filth.

What Louis had done was worthy of hell itself.

Unforgivable. Unforgivable. Unforgivable—

He could not stop. He could not restrain himself.

Fire— flames—

They burned him from within, his soft heart bubbling like fat, melting, shrinking, black smoke choking every corner of his being.

He was burning— burning alive— the heat unbearable— killing him.

“Eiji… help me… Help me, who could not protect you. Help me, who ran away and left you behind. Help me, who could not bear your burdens.”

“Kill me.”

Hate me.

Remember me. Forgive me—no, do not forget me. Even if I am a wretched creature, remember that I existed.

I… ah. The pain. What was done to you is the very pain that tears through me.

Such a gentle soul. Such a tender man.

In my mind, Eiji’s white skin was swallowed by a spreading darkness.

Within that darkness, a voice screamed— a voice that seemed to strike directly against my brain.

I had not been there for him.

I had not remained at his side as he suffered within that shadow.

That room— how it must have held a damp, suffocating heat, how it must have reeked of rusted iron.

A dark color seeped slowly across my heart, staining it.

My vision clouded, as though submerged in an ocean of ink where no light could survive.

In that sea, I searched for Eiji— only his screams reached me— and though I longed to save him,

he was somewhere I could not reach.

Damn him. Coward.

Eiji had neither the strength nor the clarity of mind to resist anything. And yet— and yet that man—

No. I am losing my sanity. I must not think of it. I must not.

My head— it feels ready to burst, like a watermelon blown apart by a bullet.

My heartbeat roars in my ears. Cold sweat pours down my skin. Gooseflesh refuses to subside.

No— no, I cannot bear it.

I cannot forgive him.

How much— how much suffering did you force upon Eiji for simply being born?

Louis— you have done what no man should ever do: you burned Eiji’s soul while it was still alive.

Such a sin cannot be forgiven.

His ribcage groaned from within, as though some unseen force were twisting his organs with merciless hands.

He must save him.

Yes.

It must be so.

There is no other path.

Only he— he alone— could save Eiji.

No one else. No other soul in this world.

It was he. Masah.

Eiji.

He must go to reclaim your soul. If it has been shattered— then he will mend it, again and again, piece by piece,

as though stitching together a torn cloth doll with needle and thread.

Again, and again, and again—

driving the needle through your broken heart until it is whole once more.

He would restore you. He alone would restore you.

Eiji wanted that— Masah was certain of it.

For what purpose, then, had he woven the long history of his life? Was it merely to hand Eiji over to that man?

Absurd. Impossible. Unthinkable.

“I will not give him up. I will never—never— hand him over!”

The dusk was too deep, too dark. In a room where no light could reach, Masah growled like a wounded beast, uttering a curse-laden vow:

“I will save him. Only I can.”

The words burned his chest with the agony of hellfire.

Masah’s eyes were bloodshot, the light within them extinguished entirely.

Something irreversible had taken root.

There was no light left— only the dying scream of a star that had exploded.

Its last remnants of radiance were dragged inward by their own gravity, never again to escape.

A colossal emotional gravity opened its infernal gate, seeking to devour all.

There was no path back. None.

No one. No one. No one.

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