Black Killer Whale Baby - Chapter 93

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 93
Tears streamed down my face. Then larger drops began to fall, one after another.
“…I can’t hold it in anymore.”
I covered my face with both hands.
I sobbed quietly, stifling the sorrowful cries that threatened to escape.
After meeting Mother and Father, the first day was simply a blur.
The sight I witnessed was shocking and overwhelming, leaving me numb once more.
The next day, I denied it all.
Mother and Father loved me so much—they couldn’t possibly reject me.
They remember me, so all I need to do is return, right?
And then, the day after that, I finally understood.
‘Even if I return… there’s no place for me anymore.’
I had to accept it. The place I could return to had vanished.
I had to come to terms with it, embrace it, and negotiate with myself.
Despair settled heavily in my chest.
Since there was nowhere to return to, only this place remained.
This place….
Why? Why on earth?
Once I accepted everything, helplessness and melancholy consumed me.
My place had disappeared.
Still, I had considered going back home.
But what if Mother and Father turned away from me when I returned?
I was an adopted child. In other words, if my parents abandoned me, I would become an orphan again.
Why must I always live trembling with anxiety?
Even though I grew up loved in my parents’ hands, I was always anxious.
I feared when my parents might have biological children of their own, and that they would abandon me then.
My parents promised it would never happen, but whenever fatigue brought nightmares, I always dreamed of being abandoned.
I longed for stable, unconditional love.
How does one receive love without having to ask for it?
What am I supposed to live for now?
“Sob, sob, sniff… hiccup.”
I pressed my mouth shut, desperate to contain my tears.
Just today—I’ll cry only today, and think about tomorrow.
So just for today….
“Even your crying is so very you.”
I startled at a voice that shouldn’t have been here, quickly lifting my head.
Under the dense tree shadows, my Teacher stood like a pillar.
I stopped crying and hastily wiped away my tears.
“Oh, Teacher? Oh, this is, well. How did you get here? Is something wrong?”
“….”
“Ah, I fell and it hurt, so I cried a little like a child.”
“….”
“Teacher?”
My Teacher didn’t answer. Instead, my body drifted gently into the air.
It was a familiar sensation of weightlessness, but today it felt strangely uncomfortable.
“You didn’t cry even when your face was beaten to pieces in a street fight, yet you cry over simply falling? How convenient.”
“…Was my excuse really that pathetic?”
“Yes.”
Ah, so this was indeed a shabby excuse.
Too late to backpedal, I simply surrendered to the current and stared ahead.
I was at exactly the same eye level as my Teacher.
“Come to think of it, I’ve never seen you cry before.”
As my Teacher approached, a pair of brilliant blue eyes were revealed beneath the moonlight.
“As I walked over, I recalled what I was like at your age.”
“…Wow, I can’t even imagine Teacher being three years old.”
“If you don’t want to answer, you don’t have to force yourself.”
“….”
“Now that I think about it, if there’s one thing you have in common with me, it’s the absence of tears.”
“….”
“I thought you would cry only when you were left alone, just like me.”
A small laugh escaped me.
How little you know. I have plenty of tears.
They simply disappeared after three regressions.
Well, even now that wouldn’t be entirely wrong.
As I laughed, tears—no, tears came pouring down in torrents.
“It’s unfair. Why, just let me cry. Why did you have to speak to me, make it obvious, force me to show it?”
“….”
“Teacher, you could have just said nothing, done nothing, and simply let it pass…!”
It was my first genuine resentment pouring out. My Teacher listened quietly before speaking.
“That’s not what you’re really upset about, is it?”
“….”
At those words that struck the heart of the matter, I could no longer pretend indifference and instead scrunched up my face, biting my lip.
Right now, anyone would do.
It didn’t matter who listened to me.
“It’s unfair. No one has lived as hard as I have, no one.”
“….”
“So why is my life like this?”
Fat tears burst forth. I hated it. I really hated it.
“Why?”
I hated myself even more for searching for my own faults.
Father didn’t mock me for spouting such things at merely three years old. He didn’t look at me strangely either.
That’s what allowed the sorrow that had festered inside to seep out.
Teacher, you’re unnecessarily kind.
“It’s so unfair, I just… wanted to live well too.”
I never wanted to live like this.
What wrong did I commit?
“I just wanted to be happy.”
Why do all the things I desire vanish like bubbles?
Unable to continue speaking, I finally broke down and wept bitterly.
There was so much I wanted to say, but sorrow overwhelmed me until words could no longer take form.
“…I don’t think you’d answer even if I asked what’s so unfair.”
A cold hand touched my cheek.
Even as that hand wiped away my tears, fresh ones streamed down relentlessly.
Fluffy droplets formed beside my teacher, then clung softly to my cheek.
“Would it help if I created a world where you don’t feel wronged?”
The warm droplet carried away my tears.
Though absorbed might be the right word, it felt like being wiped clean.
With my vision finally clearing, I could see my teacher’s face.
“Then shall we stop?”
That face was the most helpless, lost expression I’d ever seen.
A face filled with concern and worry.
“My daughter, what made you so sorrowful, hmm?”
“Father will create an ice cream kingdom for you!”
The beloved remember the face of the one who loves them.
“Then shall our princess stop crying?”
Father, you only call me princess, don’t you?
No, wait.
Even if you do, it’s fine.
Just… simply….
…call me family too.
Why did you tell me to forget.
I decided to accept it. It had been too hard.
I was exhausted from compromising with this sorrow pooled in my chest.
“Father.”
Pierre’s eyes widened.
“Sob, I’m… so tired. Father.”
From the Family Meeting onward, perhaps even before that without my knowing.
During the journey to the City of Dragons, I felt the warmth drawing near and the comfort of arms holding me.
“Teacher, do you love me as your daughter?”
Someone who doesn’t even see me as a child, who doesn’t know how to raise one, and who is sometimes indifferent and sharp.
Even so, I could see the face of my Father, who had begun to love me.
…If I reached out my hand, he would not turn away.
“Hold me. Please hold me….”
As I reached out my hand, my Father extended his own with a dazed expression.
In the warmth that soon enveloped me, I grasped my Father’s garment and wept bitterly.
Calling out “Father, Father” again and again, as if pouring out resentment for why he had treated me that way.
But he could not have understood these sounds, garbled by my weeping.
A low sigh echoed from above my head.
“…I waited for this day, yet I never imagined I would hear it like this.”
Yet the arms that held me firmly showed no sign of loosening.
While I continued to cry with sorrow still unspent within his embrace, the hand cradling my back hesitated and moved uncertainly.
It touched me gently and carefully at first, then began to pat—awkwardly, hesitantly.
Within that clumsy, unfamiliar patting, I closed my eyes.
The patting continued until we returned near the Campfire.
* * *
It truly was a tempestuous weeping.
And just as a typhoon leaves traces of its passage, the sobbing that wracked my body left tremendous aftereffects on my face in a short time.
‘Wow, wow, he’s staring, he’s staring.’
I slipped away from the gaze that was so intense it made the back of my head tingle.
‘Damn it, my eyes swell this easily…!’
Bellus was staring at me with a look of disbelief, and I simply could not meet his gaze.
Well, it was rather embarrassing.
But I held no regrets.
I felt relieved. Such is the positive effect of weeping.
Yes, I’m just a child. A child can cry too!
The problem was that these tears continued to leak out even now that I had regained my composure.
Currently, I was nestled comfortably in my Father’s lap as he sat before the crackling Campfire.
I quickly wiped away my tears and tugged at my Father’s garment.
“Father… that guy is glaring at me.”
“What would you have me do?”
“Tell him to lower his eyes.”
My Father turned his head. I felt him regarding Bellus coldly.
“You heard? Lower your eyes.”
“…I shall retire to the carriage.”
Good. He wouldn’t listen if I said it, and even if my Father spoke kindly, he wouldn’t understand.
When threatened with force, he obediently withdrew.
Still wearing an expression of utter bewilderment.
‘Why are you looking at me like I’m some sort of monster? A three-year-old can cry too.’
I was already on my third handkerchief that the Handmaidens had anxiously brought me.
Yet still, the tears would not stop.
I wonder if I’ll even be able to sleep like this.
That’s when a small hand suddenly reached toward my face.
I grabbed it in surprise, then gently released it.
The one who had reached out was none other than Ekion.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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