When I was nineteen, I lost a little finger in a lumber mill.
The severed finger was not found.
Three days later, I opened the door of the rental house and saw "myself" sitting on the sofa.
He and I have the same face.
He knows my password, remembers my childhood, knows who I like, and even remembers thoughts that I don't want to admit.
The only difference is——.
I lost a little one.
And his two hands were intact.
At first, I thought that as long as I hid him, everything would go back to the original life.
Until the girl who liked me looked at me and asked doubtfully:
"Why are you back again?"
Until another "I" appears in the monitor.
Until the police took the face that belonged to me and found where I worked.
I finally realized——
The really scary thing is never that there is another me in the world.
But he is living on my behalf bit by bit.
