I hated this feeling. I didn't feel like myself at all. It really shook me off. I wondered if I could be the naïve optimistic cheerful guy I was before. I believed I couldn't. Maybe Henry could heal himself with another poison, but it wouldn't be the same for me.

When he entered the room again, his steps sounded weird. When I looked at him… though it was definitely him, it was like looking at a different person. Something at him was more focused than usual. He gripped the glass quite tightly, so different from his usual quite weak grip, which made some glasses break as they fell to the floor. I didn't like the Henry I saw in front of me.

But I couldn't wonder… was it Henry?

"I really think this tea should make good with you," he said with a bit of a whispery voice.

Of course he should be cautious. Even the bad side of Henry was smart enough to know he would be caught if he murdered someone in his own house. Especially when there were witnesses who had seen us together.

"I said I have no interest in tea."

"Drink the damn tea, dammit!" he shouted.

I took the glass from his hand. He hardly let it go, and I spilled it all over. His face was a mixture of anger and surprise.

"Why won't you introduce yourself, Henry's alter ego?"

He just looked at me from the corners of his eyes. It was obvious from his shaky feasts it was hard for him to control himself.

"I have a right to be angry, don't I? Anyone would be after such rude act."

He really thought I was that stupid. Well, I guess I was until two days before.

"What do you try to achieve?"

"Damn you, shout your mouth!" he yelled all of a sudden, but it wasn't directed at me. "You stood in my way for way too long! Now it's my time!"

His face got redder and he held his head in his hands, moving around in the room in agony.

"I can achieve what you never could! You wanted to die, remember? Killing both of us! Die alone!"

This was far from the cold blood murderer I had in mind. Well, I know I would go crazy if there was this weird voice in my head. I should have zero sympathy for someone like this. And yet… maybe I saw Henry in him, or maybe I was just human, I felt sorry for him. I didn't like myself much for that.

Before I could grasp it, he approached the cabinet, and threw at me a little statue of Emma which Henry paid quite a fortune for. He asked to be made for her last birthday. Luckily, I avoided it in time. But when I looked around me after it was smashed on the wall, he was already gone