The Youngest Hides a Lot - Chapter 50

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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 50
“Hmph, there now.”
The Gravedigger pinched my nose as she spoke.
We sat side by side beneath a nearby tree.
“Hmph.”
I blew my nose into her hand.
“Oh my. Your nose has turned quite red.”
“Sniffle.”
“Have you cried it all out?”
I nodded, and the Gravedigger let out a soft laugh. Gazing at her lovely face, tears inexplicably began to fall again.
‘Is it because I got caught doing something wrong?’
I couldn’t understand why I kept crying. And not understanding only made the tears flow harder.
I really don’t usually cry this easily…!
“Y-yes… Sniffle, I’m so sorry. Sniffle.”
“You haven’t finished crying yet, then.”
“B-but, sniff, but, sniffle, who are you?”
“I told you. I’m the Gravedigger here. See that cottage over there?”
“Y-yes. You’re quite… sniff, quite remarkable.”
“I’m not sure what’s so remarkable about that… Ah, the tears keep coming. What am I to do.”
Because of me, the Gravedigger couldn’t get her work done—I’d become a burden. She furrowed her brow in apparent distress, then released a resigned sigh.
“There’s no help for it. Let’s go to the cottage. I’ll need to get some food in you. Come now, come!”
“…Come.”
Her hand, rough and calloused as it wiped the tears rolling down my cheeks, spoke of her dedication to tending these graves… Sniffle.
I took the Gravedigger’s hand and made my way to the cottage tucked in the corner of the Memorial Garden. Though worn, the cottage brimmed with life and felt wonderfully cozy.
‘Void called her a wicked old woman.’
She seemed more like an angel…
“Whimper.”
I sat at the old wooden table and rubbed my eyes furiously.
With tears flowing, I felt as though I’d truly become an eight-year-old child.
“Let me see. Sweet things lift the spirits, you know? Something suitable for a young one…”
The Gravedigger moved about busily, kindling a fire in the hearth. On one side, a stew bubbled away.
Gurgle, gurgle.
The moment that aroma reached my nose, an embarrassing sound escaped.
“You…”
The Gravedigger’s eyes narrowed, and I quickly wrapped my arms around my stomach.
“…”
Ugh, why is she like this.
Now it looks as though I was crying from hunger…
And so I found myself, quite unexpectedly, a small child receiving supper at the Gravedigger’s home.
“Oh, it’s spicy.”
The Gravedigger ate the spicy stew she’d made with gusto, gulping water down like a hippo—already on her second cup.
“But you said you’d give me something sweet.”
“Spicy food relieves stress better than anything. Besides, didn’t I hear your stomach growling?”
I pouted and stared down at the bowl before me. The crimson stew bubbled like molten lava churning beneath the earth.
The Gravedigger chuckled softly and pressed a spoon into my hand.
“Give it a try. I used less spicy sauce on yours, so you’ll definitely be able to eat it.”
“Why not just skip the sauce altogether?”
“It’s delicious, I’m telling you.”
I had no choice but to take a spoonful of the stew.
“Oh?”
“It’s good, isn’t it?”
“Yes! But it’s so spicy!”
I gulped water frantically while refusing to put the spoon down.
This stimulating flavor. The taste of the mortal world. The burning heat of modern spiced chicken!
We sat across from each other at the worn table, slurping and savoring the spicy stew together.
“How about it? Feeling better?”
The Gravedigger slid a glass of cold water toward me.
I drained it in one long gulp and set it down with a clink.
“Phew. Yes! It feels like I’ve been reborn somehow.”
I’d forgotten this taste.
After crying my heart out and eating something spicy, I felt refreshed and satisfied, patting my belly contentedly—when something was suddenly thrust before my eyes.
“Wow, cocoa!”
“So you forgive me then? For making you cry?”
“Yes!”
Though truthfully, the Gravedigger wasn’t the reason I’d cried.
I smiled happily and sipped the cocoa. Sweet! Bittersweet! Delicious!
“You look adorably round.”
The Gravedigger rested her chin on one hand, observing me intently.
“So, why were you in a place like that?”
“Well…”
I paused mid-sip, my eyes darting away.
“I live alone here anyway. There’s no one to talk to regardless. So tell me.”
Her voice flowed like honey, warm and inviting.
“She’s a demon hag. Doesn’t associate with anyone, and there are rumors she devours the children who visit the Memorial Garden.”
Recalling Void’s words, I gripped the mug tightly.
Normally, I would have deflected and run away as I always did.
‘This is strange. Somehow… I can’t refuse.’
For some reason, I didn’t feel like doing that now. My resistance had crumbled.
I gazed into the Gravedigger’s eyes, which held a faint blue luminescence. Sometimes it was easier to bare your soul to a complete stranger.
“I was… a little upset about something.”
“Is that so? What is it?”
“Well, people dislike lies, don’t they?”
“Generally speaking, yes.”
My shoulders slumped heavily.
“…They must hate lying children even more, right? Saying they’re gloomy and cunning….”
“Hmm, actually, anyone who says such things to a child seems far more gloomy and cunning to me. They’re just spouting off without understanding the situation at all.”
I added my words glumly while gazing at the rippling surface of the cocoa.
“The truth is… I lied to a friend.”
I spoke indirectly about Leviathan.
“But that friend doesn’t know anything and treats me kindly, always trying to grow closer to me…. And every time, my heart aches….”
“I see. Your friend might get angry if they found out they were deceived.”
“Ugh….”
I know it, but confirmation still hurts….
“But why did you lie? To trick your friend?”
“That’s not it!”
I turned my head sharply. The Gravedigger’s eyes softened gently as she smiled warmly at me.
“That’s really… not it. I just….”
The frustration of being unable to tell her everything was overwhelming.
“The situation was unavoidable….”
“You….”
Soft fabric appeared and wiped away the cocoa droplets that had splattered on my hand.
“You really care about that friend, don’t you?”
I thought blankly for a moment, then slowly nodded.
“…Yes. I care so much. They’re so precious to me.”
I loved Leviathan. I loved all the people of Zebert who treated me so kindly.
But with that affection came guilt—the knowledge that none of this was truly mine.
If they discovered that everything about me was a lie, would they still cherish me the same way?
Honestly, I hadn’t fully understood it until I came to the Northern Region following Uncle.
That the secret I’d created because of my complicated circumstances would strangle my very breath.
“I don’t want to be hated….”
That fear of abandonment would shrink my heart to the size of a bean.
“Oh my, what a crybaby.”
The Gravedigger pulled me into her embrace and soothed me as I began crying again.
I wept in her arms for a long while. When my sobs finally began to subside, the Gravedigger wiped my face again.
“Little one, what is it that you want to do?”
Her gentle voice and warm expression enchanted me. I wiped my tears and thought hesitantly.
What do I want? Well, that’s obvious.
“I… want to stay by that friend’s side. Forever… without parting….”
“Then why not just do what you want without overthinking it?”
“Huh?”
As I blinked, the remaining tears tumbled down my cheeks. The Gravedigger tilted her eyebrows with a sympathetic expression and laughed, “Oh, poor Mangbol.”
“If there are circumstances preventing you from revealing the truth now, you can explain later. If you explain things step by step, I think that friend will gladly understand. That friend is a good person, isn’t he?”
“Sometimes he’s good, and sometimes he’s not.”
“That’s… quite a cold analysis.”
The Gravedigger chuckled, finding it amusing.
I stared blankly at my hand wiping my cheek before asking.
“Even if I lied and did something wrong, can I still be forgiven?”

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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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