Harker found himself back in the grave, drinking beer all alone at night.

It had been a few days since Mina disappeared. He tried to follow her and he had the superior speed according to the stats. However...

Willpower can exceed the body's limitations, and skill alone would not be enough to defeat resolve.

His resolve to follow her was not as strong as her resolve to get justice. And that was because he could also understand where she was coming from, and feel that it was wrong to stop her.

But he still doesn't want to let her go, of course. Even for just a while.

They were still starting, and everything was going so fast. And yet they were constantly bombarded with problems that they had to deal with, burdens they had to carry, things they had to set right.

It was hard to let her go. But it was the right thing to do.

"I can't let her go just as I can't let you go, Mom." He found himself kneeling on the dirt, and he knew there was nothing there.

His mother's body was not there, nor anywhere. It was gone as ashes and dust in the air. And yet, he had to remind himself that it was just a body.

Her spirit was long gone already. It never returned. He was given false hope just so his heart could be stomped on over and over by the fact that he truly lost her.

"Fuck... Why do I have to be this unlucky, huh!? Does fate hate me so much!? Was it my fault, or some god's fault... or there's just some natural way for this shit to go around that just happens!? Why me!? Why do I have to be the one to suffer all this ...."

He knew very well that nothing would happen if he vented out like this. That people will find him like an idiot, too sentimental, not using his head or some bullshit like that.

But it was just too much, and he was at his limit here. A facade is still a facade no matter how good it was.

He had always kept the facade that he had his shit together. That nothing really bothers a carefree soul like him. When in truth, it was the opposite.

It was something his mother noticed from the start. Harker would always question everything and end up overwhelming himself. He would always overthink about the possibilities.

Which was why it was important for him to be taught not to make assumptions. Not only because they might be wrong...

But because it would destroy someone's mind to be constantly drowning in the 'what ifs' of the future.historical

"Fuck, my mind is going in circles. I don't even know what I'm thinking anymore." Harker chugged his beer bottle as he tried to keep himself on track.

It was very difficult when your mind was constantly in overdrive like this. Not just the logical parts of his brain, but also his emotions that keep on stirring up into a muddled soup that he could barely contain.

He needed an anchor. Something. Anything...

"I thought I might find you here."

He turned and just as when he most needed it, the one person he could rely on had appeared.

"Rol. I actually prefer it if you don't see me like this." Harker squatted in front of that wooden sculpture.

"But I'm already here. And I will find out eventually." Roland said. "You don't have to hide how much you are suffering when you're in front of me."

Harker still attempted to play it cool. "Hah, thanks bud. You really are a good guy... Say, had our parents not known each other.... Would you have been friends with me?"

"Of course." Roland answered plainly.

"And why are you so sure? They say that 'god is in the details'. It was the very fact that you were giving my dad a gift that we met in the first place. It was those circumstances that built a way for us to create memories with each other, and eventually be fond of each other." Harker took a long sip from his bottle.

He realized that it was already empty, and sighed. "If I was not Harker Jones... And you were not Roland Faust... Do you think we would have even given a damn about each other?"

"I think so." Roland sat on the dirt beside him. "Because who we are right now, the physical form, at least... It's just nothing but a piece of cloth. The soul beneath is what matters."

"Then what about the memories we made?" Harker asked. "Had we not spent a lot of time with each other.... Had we not learned things about each other that nobody knew before... Would we still have this connection?"

"If I forget you one day, or you forget me... Then is it gone?"

Just like how it was no longer his mother's memories or her mind that occupied her physical form. That means that she was no longer herself, and that connection with Harker was gone. It was why he had no hesitation hurting Father Gerard.

But would the same apply to Roland if he becomes some mindless zombie himself? If he forgets who he was?

"That's a tricky question." Roland admitted. "But I still think that even if your conscience is not there, your subconscious is. Your spirit is there, just missing those two. But the emotions stay as the truth and only unchangeable truth."

His friend casually picks on a stay strand of hair from his shoulder.

"If you forget me, I still know that our friendship was real. And if I forget you, I expect you to do the same. If we forget each other.... I could only hope that my belief in our friendship overcoming rationality itself would be able to still connect us together."

"That we would still feel the same towards each other. Just like how old people with dementia still feel this attachment with their family and friends despite not recognizing them."

Harker was reminded of Mina again at the mention of dementia due to her grandfather. The numb ache on his chest continued.

"Thanks for answering my silly questions. My mind just goes on to wander off like this with no direction."

Roland shook his head. "There is always a direction. Hark, you are worrying about your life, and that's alright. Life is full of pain and confusion from questions we can't answer."

He patted his back. "But whatever may be right or wrong, know that I'm always here."

Harker let himself cry that night, certainly a first. He cried on his friend's shoulder. He was so used to keeping it in, that being able to let it all go felt a little.. euphoric.

He had cried himself to sleep, and found himself lost in the Dream World again.