A white room.

White sheets.

The sound of breathing like a metronome ticking through the silence.

In a small world where no one comes, you always dreamed of a "friend." Carrying only a scraped heart and questions without answers.

—Perhaps that is why he appeared.

A large young man, his white coat swaying, a warm scarf wrapped around his neck, cradling an incongruous metal pipe as if it were precious.

Who is he? Where did he come from? Why does he look at you so dearly, with eyes burning with a terrifying heat? No one knows. As if even he himself forgot a long time ago.

The only thing certain is that today, too, he will throw a flood of questions at you, just to hear the "continuation of your song"—.

Song Title: "Question You 100" by sasakure.UK

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Do you remember the first color? Did you just chase dreams single-mindedly? Are you leaving behind a story from sometime? Did you catch a glimpse of the memory circuits?

Were you living every day with energy? Was the pendulum moving composedly? Were you swimming through a boring maze? Did you accept the clumsy sequence?

Did a small button come undone? Does the scraped wound still hurt? Is it carrying a little bit of heat? Do you remember the continuation of the song?

Are you pretending to be playful? Are you angry that I pushed you away? Are you smiling now? Are you smiling with a smile that doesn't smile?

When? Where? Who? What? What hour? What minute? What second? How many times did you spin the Earth? In the noisy and lovely days, did you share the cracked questions with me? Were you happy? Were you angry? Were you sad? Did you have fun? Did it hurt? Did you act tough? Were you surprised? Was it you? Was it me? Really? Will I throw so many trivial questions again today, and the day after?

How long were we together? How many scars did I leave? How many words did I throw at you? How much do you want to l-o-v-e and be l-o-v-e-d?

Did you push yourself quite hard? Were you pursuing existence? Were you spinning a cunning future? Did you remember the continuation of the song?

Did coincidence overlap with coincidence? Do you hide it with staggering steps? Is it based on human theorems? Could you fill it with hangnailed hands?

Does the void call out again today? Do you spread the rough code? When did I let go of your hand? Are you still smiling?

Why? What kind? How? Which one? How many days? How many months? How many decades? How many times did you ring the Earth? Is it so simple and plain that the precious answer cannot be found? Was it too heavy? Did you fail? Did you overdo it? Was it defiled? Did it get tangled? Did you make a mistake? Did you pretend? Were you hurt? Did you love? In truth? Did you listen to so many of my trivial questions today?

Did you find the precious, precious thing? Did you lose the irreplaceable, irreplaceable thing? Because I hate waiting for a reply that never comes, was I throwing trivial questions at you? Are you still alive? Is the song still continuing?

Hundreds? Thousands? Millions? Billions? Trillions? What color? What sound? How many bytes? How many times did you worry with the Earth?

Has there ever been a time when I faced you this closely?

Is it easy? Is it simple? Is it ambiguous? Is it sudden? Is it arrogant? Is it boring? Is it a void? Is it cunning? Is it cowardly? Is it cruel? Is it difficult? Did I think my own selfish incantation would come true through something like this?

You are already... No, it's nothing.

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