I had been feeling a strange unease lately, and no matter how hard I tried to make it go away by doing activities I usually enjoy, such as cooking, cleaning, or other chores, it persisted. Although I wanted to hide it behind a smile, the feeling intensified when I saw Smith complain about her work, Cerea returning home looking more proud after each training session, and Aki staggering home exhausted after a day spent helping liminals. It wasn't until he came home from his counseling session earlier today that I finally realized what it was: envy.

I was unsatisfied. And I was disappointed.

There was no logical justification for me to feel the way I did. After all, I was providing a safe and comfortable home for eight people, some of whom had nowhere else to go and all of whom I considered to be my close friends. Smith praised me for becoming the perfect example and representation of the Cultural Exchange program and for embodying what it stands for. I almost felt the need to explain that my role in this was entirely accidental, but when I heard the sheer joy in her voice, I decided to remain silent.

I was loved and depended on, trusted, and respected. That should have been enough.

"... Kimi? You okay?" asked a concerned, motherly voice from my computer.

My eyes blinked rapidly as I nervously laughed. I scratched the back of my head in embarrassment. "Sorry, Mom. I kinda zoned out for a moment," I sheepishly apologized.

"All we did was ask how things were going," Dad chuckled, his jowls wobbling with laughter. Mom and Dad were still in Scotland for their work for a few more months, so these precious video chats were the few chances we had to talk for longer than a few minutes. We had all been so busy recently that there was never enough time to catch up. "You looked like you were about to tell us every little detail of what had happened since we left!"

"That's not too far off the mark," I admitted reluctantly. I knew I had to tell them what had been going on here for the past month and a half, but I wanted to have enough time to have a whole conversation with them about it instead of just dropping the bombshell and having to leave abruptly...

Hmm, that was more of an excuse, I suppose. I was mainly feeling apprehensive about telling them the news. Having your home extensively remodeled by the government and now housing eight unknown liminals was a lot to take in for most people, and I was worried about how they would react to it.

Was that why I felt unsatisfied? Disappointed?

"The beginning's always the best place to start," Mom said warmly. Despite her tired eyes and the fact that she hadn't had the time to do her hair in a while, she still looked beautiful. Her curly brown hair was in disarray, the ends of it curling like tight corkscrews. She had always tried to straighten it, but the curls had a mind of their own.

"Probably," I said, returning her smile. "Well, you see-"

"Bring-bring! Bring-bring!" blared in the background on their end, cutting me off. I went silent as Mom checked her phone.

"Shoot, it's Rivers," she sighed, shooting me a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, sweetie, but I have to take this. We'll talk later, okay? I know we keep saying that, but..."

"It's okay," I assured, putting on my well-rehearsed reassuring smile. "Next time."

She nodded gratefully and put the phone to her ear, walking away while talking quickly in English. Dad shifted in his seat so that he was at the center, giving me an apologetic look.

"I apologize, Kimi, but unfortunately, this is the way it works around here. If your mother's being summoned, it won't be long before I'm called. It appears we'll have to reschedule this again." He sighed heavily.

"I'm used to it by now," I told him. "That's just the way things are."

"Doesn't make it right," he grumbled. "We both miss you and Kumiko a great deal. You speak to her much lately?"

I shook my head. "Not much at all since she moved out, no. I'm not worried about it, though; she's always had a bit of a one-track mind, right?"

Dad snorted and shook his head, "Just like her mother," he muttered. He glanced down at his phone, a look of resignation on his face. Then he looked up and said, "Before I go, I just need to know: are you doing alright? Are you content? Are you truly happy?"

I almost instinctively wanted to reply with an easy "Of course," but that nagging feeling from earlier returned. This prompted me to do something different, something that could potentially worry my parents. This wasn't something I could do with anyone else in the house, but my parents were the only ones who would truly understand maybe.

"I'm... not sure," I answered. "I guess I feel... unsatisfied? That, and disappointed, lately. Like I'm just treading water and doing the bare minimum. That's not necessarily true, but that's how I feel." I snorted, which I realized was almost like Dad's. "It's not a feeling I'm used to."

Dad nodded at my words, his face displaying concern and understanding. I knew he'd react this way - I trusted him to understand. He looked me in the eyes and spoke softly. "I know the feeling," he said. "Sometimes I still struggle with it, especially when I'm having a rough day. You, Kimi, are an amazing kid. Hayami and I can take some credit, but I must admit, I think you were born this way."

"That said, if you feel like you're not doing enough, that probably means you're not," he continued, folding his arms. "Whenever I felt that way, I'd do one of two things: talk to your mother for a while or go out on a long walk alone. The former would remind me I've done plenty to be proud of, and the latter would give me time to reflect on how to do more."

"So you're saying I should do something similar?" I asked.

"Everyone's got their different ways of dealing with it. You tried to do more of what you usually do to forget about it, right?"

"Yeah."

He suggested, "Rather than doing the same old comfortable things, why don't you try something new? Speak to someone you trust but don't usually converse with. Or, why not try something outrageous that you have never done before? It could help you get out of your current state of mind."

I nodded at his words, a smile returning to my face. "I might do that," I said. "Thanks, Dad."

"Bah, typical fatherly advice is the least I can do," he said, smiling back. "You usually never tell us when something's wrong, so I have to make sure I nail it the few times it happens."

"You have a point!" I admitted with a laugh.

"Well, I hate to say it, but I have to get going," Dad groaned. "Say hi to Seiji for me, will you? And talk to your sister more! I don't care how busy the two of you are; you're still family!"

"I will, I will," I promised him. "Talk to you soon, Dad."

"Later, kiddo."

The connection abruptly ended, leaving a blank screen. I shut off my computer and stood up, pondering how the rest of the night would unfold. We had already had dinner, and the majority of us had returned to our rooms since we had spent the majority of the day tidying up in anticipation of Miia's mother arriving tomorrow morning.

It was almost time to go to bed, but instead of just sitting in my room, I took advantage of the people and activities around me. Heeding my father's advice, I wanted to make the most of my time before having to entertain more guests. I figured I could find something to tidy up or improve before I finally slept.

To my shock and dismay, the house was empty. I stood between the kitchen and the living room, taking in the eerie stillness. Miia was not browsing online on her laptop as usual. Papi was not playing on the Wii, nor was Cerea struggling with a challenging boss in her game. Aki was not relaxing in a chair after a long day. Suu was not perched atop Aki's head, observing us all. Mero was not wheeling around contentedly, and Rachnee was not in the corner, making snarky comments. Finally, there was no Lala trying - unsuccessfully - to maintain a dark and mysterious presence.

It was like none of them had ever been here. It reminded me of what it had been like after Mom and Dad flew to Scotland, leaving me alone in this house.

I settled on the couch, choosing Miia's spot instead of my usual one. It was the exact spot where we had snuggled during the wild party a few nights ago. I didn't quite know why I had done that other than it had felt like the right thing to do.

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair, forgetting about the eight others who shared this home with me. I was able to forget about the chaos that came along with them, the beautiful memories, and the tough times. I was able to forget all that had happened since Miia arrived.

I even forgot I wasn't the only person in the world. Right then, that room was the whole world.

It was... oddly soothing.

I sat there alone for a while, unable to recall the last time I had experienced something similar. I was determined to make the most of the moment without any distractions to steal my attention away. My thoughts began to drift as I pondered the source of my dissatisfaction.

Reflecting on it, I recalled the first time I felt that way. Aki had just informed me about Enkidu, as it seemed most of the girls were already familiar with them. I could have gone my entire life without knowledge of the malicious organization and the countless lives it had impacted. Miia had even lost loved ones to them.

I slowly became cognizant of my hands tightly balled up into fists. I inhaled deeply and exhaled until my fists unclenched. I may have appeared calm and collected, but I was hiding a fierce and aggressive side of me that I typically kept hidden. The last time I had lashed out with physical violence was when that couple continued to spew hurtful insults toward Miia. Before I knew it, I had landed a blow to both of their faces.

It wasn't surprising that just hearing about Enkidu was enough to make me feel the same way.

Since then, the feeling has come and gone every so often. Whenever I saw Smith, Aki, Cerea, and MON hard at work, it filled me with admiration. They were always dedicated and committed to helping more than just those closest to them, despite their exhaustion after a long day of doing real good.

Ah. So that's what it was.

I felt like I hadn't done enough. Everything I had done was to make those around me happy and content, but I could only help those I had the fortune of being close to. What if there was another Enkidu out there somewhere, preying on those who are vulnerable? What about the countless humans and liminals that have been hurt by the Cultural Exchange's missteps, like Rachnee and Kunanzuki?

I adored my life here. I loved seeing the smiles on everyone's faces because of my actions. Was that a form of self-gratification, or was I being altruistic? I'm not sure. But was that enough? Merely being a hospitable host was not sufficient enough to make the Cultural Exchange a success. I could still do that, but I could strive to do more. I was aware of that.

Seeing Aki every day, burdened with worry for his counselees, it's clearly taking a toll on him. His eyes are constantly rimmed with dark circles, and his yawns are frequent. His presence has been much more muted than usual, and I'm sure Smith didn't intend to pile on too much responsibility, but she has been far too preoccupied to notice.

The two of them worked diligently while I tidied up and cooked. I glanced around the living room, which now seemed cramped and cut off from the rest of the world.

Yeah, I was profoundly dissatisfied. That felt like a betrayal of all I had been for so long, but it became increasingly hard to be satisfied anymore. I was conscious of how I was viewed as a pillar here and that they essentially depended on me, so it wouldn't be a simple task, pushing past that. Fortunately, I had a sturdier body than most, so I could bear it all.

Besides, Lala had mentioned that the reasoning behind my crazy endurance was "the blood of a hero" or something like that. Maybe it was high time I saw if that was the case.

To be continued...