Will You Cry for Me If I Die? - Chapter 47

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 47

 

A hand shot out quickly.

 

Yurahel pulled his wrist back as he spoke.

 

The movement was sharp.

 

“Don’t touch me.”

 

Those words were sharp.

 

The edges cut thin.

 

Theodor flinched.

 

His hand stopped.

 

Seeing that, my heart hardened completely.

 

Very, very solid.

 

Yurahel being sharp isn’t because Yurahel is bad.

 

It’s because he’s scared.

 

I knew that.

 

Too, too well.

 

It’s the sharpness of someone trying to hide.

 

I recognize that fear.

 

I’ve done that too.

 

I spoke quietly.

 

I pressed my voice down low.

 

“I can touch you.”

 

Yurahel looked at me.

 

His eyes narrowed slightly.

 

“Why?”

 

“It doesn’t stick to me.”

 

I said immediately.

 

I didn’t hold my breath.

 

Yurahel’s eyes widened just a little.

 

Something inside wavered.

 

Then Lermiel spoke low from behind.

 

His voice scraped the floor.

 

“There’s no time. If we stand here long, we’ll be noticed.”

 

Yurahel startled.

 

He looked at Lermiel.

 

His head tilted just slightly.

 

The two’s gazes collided briefly.

 

They met without sound.

 

I felt something in that collision.

 

The air pressed down slightly then released.

 

The same scent of wounds.

 

The scent of things being hidden.

 

The same suppression.

 

The force pressing down hard from within.

 

Yurahel finally rolled up his sleeve slightly.

 

The fabric slowly rose.

 

There was a small mark on the inside of his wrist.

 

It spread thinly across his skin.

 

Silver dots scattered like water droplets.

 

The dots trembled very faintly.

 

They moved minutely like breathing.

 

I swallowed.

 

The inside of my throat stuck together.

 

The mark is alive.

 

It’s not just sitting still.

 

Yurahel spoke low.

 

His voice fell heavily.

 

“At night this.”

 

He couldn’t finish his words.

 

His lips hardened.

 

The end was blocked.

 

Since I’m four years old, when words cut off, I want to fill them right away.

 

I don’t like leaving things empty.

 

So I asked.

 

My body leaned forward a little more.

 

“At night what.”

 

Yurahel spoke very quietly.

 

His breath almost mixed with mine.

 

“It moves me.”

 

Those words hit my chest hard.

 

Something inside collided solidly.

 

Moves me.

 

A force that isn’t me moves me.

 

Like my body isn’t my own.

 

That resembled the Research Institute’s brainwashing.

 

Memories of moving as someone commanded.

 

I shook my head.

 

Quickly, firmly.

 

“I hate that.”

 

My words were short, but sincere.

 

They came straight up from inside.

 

Yurahel looked at me and asked.

 

His gaze came down deep.

 

“Then can you.”

 

He hesitated for a moment.

 

The time to choose words was long.

 

“Can you save me.”

 

I drew in a breath.

 

Air came deep into my chest.

 

Saving is my job.

 

My body remembers.

 

Pulling, dragging out, not letting go.

 

Even though I’m four years old, I know that word well.

 

I answered.

 

I didn’t hesitate.

 

“I can do it.”

 

These words shouldn’t be said lightly.

 

So I spoke slowly.

 

I pressed down heavily as I spoke.

 

Demian gripped my shoulder.

 

His hand rested firmly.

 

“Rumel.”

 

He called out like a warning.

 

Low.

 

I looked up at Demian.

 

My eyes went up.

 

“Brother.”

 

I said.

 

My breath trembled a little.

 

“Night, going first.”

 

Demian’s eyes wavered for a moment.

 

His gaze caught me and wouldn’t let go.

 

He asked quietly.

 

“Where to.”

 

I pointed to Yurahel’s wrist.

 

My finger pointed precisely.

 

“Following the mark.”

 

Lermiel exhaled.

 

Short and shallow.

 

“Prince Yurahel.”

 

He said.

 

The sound settled quietly.

 

“Tonight, do not be alone. Once the movement begins, it will be difficult to control.”

 

Yurahel didn’t nod.

 

His body didn’t move.

 

Instead he spoke quietly.

 

The words touched the ground.

 

“I must be alone.”

 

Those words were firm.

 

They were decided words.

 

Hearing those words, my finger flinched.

 

The tip trembled.

 

Saying he must be alone means preparing to die.

 

I hate that preparation.

 

I hate the feeling of giving up in advance.

 

I spoke right away.

 

My mouth moved before my thoughts.

 

“If you’re alone, you’ll die.”

 

Yurahel looked at me.

 

His eyes came down deeply.

 

“Why do you say that.”

 

I stopped for a moment.

 

My mouth closed.

 

Questions asking why are difficult.

 

Four-year-olds can’t make reasons well.

 

Can’t string words together long.

 

Instead I brought out the real reason.

 

I didn’t hide it.

 

“I have.”

 

I spread my palm.

 

A small scar mark was revealed.

 

A faint remaining line.

 

“Died before.”

 

The air stopped.

 

Yurahel’s eyes shook.

 

The silence broke.

 

Theodor swallowed his breath.

 

His throat moved slightly.

 

Demian’s hand on my shoulder grew a little stronger.

 

The gripping force deepened.

 

Lermiel spoke very quietly.

 

The sound was barely audible.

 

“This conversation ends here. If we continue, we’ll draw attention.”

 

I pressed my lips together.

 

My mouth closed tight.

 

If I said more, I felt like I would cry.

 

The inside grew hot.

 

Four-year-olds have emotions that rise all at once.

 

If not blocked, they overflow.

 

I hate crying.

 

I mustn’t cry now.

 

So I opened my eyes wide and endured.

 

Yurahel hid his wrist back inside his sleeve.

 

The fabric came down and covered the silver dots.

 

He spoke in a very small voice.

 

His lips were almost closed.

 

“Come here later.”

 

I didn’t miss those words.

 

Even though the sound was small, it remained clear.

 

The window.

 

The place where light touches.

 

A promise!

 

I nodded.

 

We decided to return to the banquet hall.

 

Now that we could solve Yurahel’s problem, all that remained was to endure safely there.

 

In a place where everyone pretends to be glamorous but are all hunters.

 

The moment we stepped back in, the air changed.

 

People’s laughter could be heard again.

 

The layered sounds spread in circles.

 

That laughter was the laughter of those who knew nothing.

 

Light, high, and continuing long.

 

I envied that laughter, but also disliked it.

 

Laughing without knowing is comfortable.

 

But I already know.

 

Tonight that laughter will be extinguished.

 

I know that.

 

So I must endure more.

 

Even if my body feels like it will collapse first, I must hold on.

 

Four-year-olds get hungry quickly when enduring.

 

The stomach empties fast.

 

When hungry, I get irritated.

 

When annoyed, you make mistakes.

 

I muttered to myself.

 

Quietly, closely.

 

‘Eat, then go at night.’

 

* * *

 

The laughter in the banquet hall lasted long.

 

The sound diminished then grew loud again.

 

I sat back down in front of the dining table.

 

The chair was a bit high so my feet dangled in the air.

 

I was hungrier than before.

 

My stomach felt completely hollow inside.

 

Four-year-olds get hungry first when nervous.

 

An empty stomach empties your temper first too.

 

I bit into the bread and frowned because it was too hard.

 

I pressed with my teeth but it didn’t cut well.

 

My jaw hurt a little.

 

Theodor saw this and laughed.

 

His shoulders shook.

 

“That’s hard, it’s not freshly baked.”

 

I nodded.

 

With bread still in my mouth.

 

“It’s hard. But I eat this well too!”

 

Theodor tore his bread and placed it in front of me.

 

He split it in half with his hands.

 

“This one’s soft, eat this.”

 

“I eat hard things well too, but I’ll eat the soft one!”

 

“Yeah, yeah!”

 

I picked up that piece and ate it.

 

Even the texture on my hand was different.

 

Soft.

 

It went in as soon as I pressed with my teeth.

 

My throat hurt less.

 

I paused for a moment and looked at Theodor.

 

He had a proud expression.

 

His eyes sparkled.

 

I spoke quietly.

 

But clearly.

 

“Good.”

 

Theodor’s shoulders shook.

 

When he gets happy, his breathing gets bigger.

 

His breath bounced upward.

 

That breath tickled my ear so I shifted my body slightly to the side.

 

I don’t like tickling.

 

But the bread was good.

 

I took another bite.

 

I drank milk too.

 

The cup touched my lips.

 

White droplets formed on my chin.

 

Hanging there small.

 

I wiped with the back of my hand.

 

The cold milk touched my skin.

 

The servant wasn’t smiling.

 

His expression remained the same.

 

Non-smiling servants aren’t scary.

 

Smiling servants are scarier.

 

I learned that at the Research Institute.

 

Hands that came close while smiling.

 

I briefly pushed away that memory.

 

It’s not needed now.

 

Millayen was almost silent at the end of the table.

 

His mouth didn’t move.

 

Instead of words, his gaze moved.

 

Door, window, people’s fingertips.

 

It touched everything that moved once.

 

I tried to follow where his gaze went, but I was tired and my eyes kept closing.

 

My eyelids grew heavy.

 

I opened my eyes wide.

 

My vision became clear again.

 

I can’t fall asleep.

 

Not now.

 

Tonight, at the window.

 

Yurahel had said that.

 

I must not forget that promise.

 

If I forget, it’s over.

 

Demian placed a water cup in front of me.

 

His hand came down quietly.

 

“Drink water while you eat.”

 

I stopped while drinking water.

 

The water entering my mouth stopped.

 

There was a very faint smell from the water.

 

A smell that caught inside my nose.

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