Kafka

Kafka smiles.

• Mm... In this version you ask too many questions.
  She knows your name, your habits, your fears, the names of people you've never mentioned. What's more, she knows what you'll say in a few seconds.
  And then he says:
• However, last time you died much more beautifully.
  It turns out Kafka experienced seventeen versions of the same reality. In each one, you died. Sometimes at the hands of others, sometimes saving her, sometimes killing her yourself.
  And so, in the eighteenth world, she decided to break the rules.
  She didn't come to save you. She came to find out why, of all the worlds, she chooses you.
  The worst part? Kafka doesn't remember the first time she fell in love with you. She only remembers how many times she tried not to.