I, well, I don't know if I should be saying this myself, but I am ordinary.
This "special I" who looks exactly like me came to my house. But he is not a fake version of me. Actually, I am the fake and he is the one that's real. I am only his clone.
I'm not me. I'm not me! Everything till now has been for another "special me". Yet I have taken it all for granted as if they were mine and simply enjoyed my life.
"I am special," says the "Special I."
"A detective. That's what they would call me on Earth."
"I still have a lot to learn about this so-called "family love," but I'm sure I can figure it out. It should be easier than finding Earth."