Prologue
I was ten years old when I learned how much life I had left.
[The current date is January 9, 2019.]
[Remaining lifespan: 71 years, 11 months, and 16 days.]
[Confirmed date of death: December 25, 2090.]
For someone who had only lived nine years and a little over two weeks, even seventy-one years felt far too long.
At the time, I was filming deep in the mountains in the middle of winter. I was supposed to cry, but no tears came. Back then, I was in the kind of state where I would have sold my soul to the devil if it meant I could cry.
Better that than freezing to death.
[Hello, I’m a demon.]
And then, out of nowhere, a demon really did appear.
[A deal is proposed.]
[You may use 20 years of your lifespan to improve your acting ability.]
[Would you like to accept the deal?]
“Improve your acting ability” was a long-winded and vague offer.
What I needed right then was only one thing.
“If I accept the deal, can I cry right now?”
I just wanted to go home.
At my question, the demon answered readily.
[Of course!]
“Then I’ll give you twenty years.”
After that, these words followed one after another.
[The deal has been completed.]
[Remaining lifespan: 51 years, 11 months, and 16 days.]
[Confirmed date of death: December 25, 2070.]
From that moment on, whenever I wanted to cry, I could.
