Just a little moment to spend more time with Carson, it wouldn’t make him that drained—John believed, until the moment he began to regret that decision.

He could see the words in the book he was reading, just glossing the words over. But did they form some kind of memory in John's mind? Barely. Reviewing this book again when he woke up again might be a wiser idea, with his state.

Now that it had been a little too long to stare at his book, John threw his body onto the bed—as he wondered if Carson really went to sleep on his own. But eh, if Carson woke up later than breakfast, then that's on him.

As John sunk into his own bed, his other worries resurfaced in his mind. He didn't have the energy to get up and write them down somewhere, so he only waited until his thoughts finally tire out.

Old dreams, something that had been bothering him from earlier—and it had always been bothering him, ever since he returned from his last meeting with his family.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

And finally, he could remember what that dream was supposed to be.

To build a family and live a happy life with them.

It was an awfully simple dream that younger John claimed to have. At this moment, that dream was more of a go-to answer when someone kept pestering him about his plans for the future. In reality, in his future... he saw nothing. He only knew of going to work and attending businesses each day, working on the housework with Virgil, then preparing for tomorrow's work. With each passing day, that dream began to sound more like a joke.

John used to be so naive, after all. Too native, too weak, too powerless for this world—he dreaded that state. He had grown to be someone better, and yet, he felt as if it wasn't satisfied with this fate.

He should be falling asleep soon. No matter how much he wanted to stop all these frustrations, sleep was the only thing he could do at this moment.

Once again, he was powerless.