Will You Cry for Me If I Die? - Chapter 54

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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 54

 

The priest has left, but it’s not over.

 

Villains who fail and leave always come back to do bad things.

 

That’s how it was at the Research Institute.

 

When the door closed, it wasn’t the end but the beginning.

 

I remember that.

 

Yurahel gripped his wrist and caught his breath.

 

His hand squeezed his own arm tighter.

 

The silver dot was still faintly remaining.

 

The light trembled very slightly.

 

Still, it hadn’t completely disappeared.

 

I stared at it for a long time.

 

‘It needs to disappear.’

 

That would be safe.

 

If it remains, it will start again.

 

“Blood will get on you.”

 

I said.

 

Demian’s gaze turned toward me.

 

His eyes came down briefly.

 

“No.”

 

He said sternly.

 

His voice was pressed down low.

 

I closed my mouth.

 

I didn’t say anything more.

 

A four-year-old body is small.

 

Being small makes it tear more easily.

 

I know that.

 

But I also know.

 

It needs to end quickly.

 

If it’s late, it hurts more.

 

Lermiel sat leaning against the wall.

 

His body was tilted slightly.

 

His shoulder was touching the wall.

 

The back of his hand was pale.

 

The color had drained from it.

 

I approached as if crawling.

 

I pressed my palms to the floor.

 

My knees touched again.

 

The coldness came up again.

 

I touched his arm with my small hand.

 

My fingertips touched carefully.

 

It was warm.

 

His skin was warm.

 

It was warm but trembling.

 

The inside was shaking.

 

“Does it hurt?”

 

I asked.

 

My voice came out small.

 

Lermiel looked down at me.

 

His gaze came down slowly.

 

His eyes were slightly clouded.

 

His focus wasn’t completely clear.

 

“A little.”

 

He said.

 

Breath was mixed in.

 

A little means a lot.

 

I narrowed my eyes.

 

I narrowed my gaze further.

 

“A little is a lie. I know!”

 

The corner of his mouth went up very slightly.

 

It was barely visible.

 

That smile hurt more.

 

It’s a smile pretending to be okay.

 

Demian spoke in a low voice.

 

His voice pressed down on the room again.

 

“Let’s clear the prayer room.”

 

Yurahel nodded his head.

 

The movement was slow.

 

I looked at the floor again.

 

My gaze fell downward.

 

Holy water was scattered about.

 

Water stains were spread thinly.

 

They were spread thinly on the floor.

 

Water stains remained thinly on the ice.

 

Water had spread on the cold film.

 

The scent was still spreading.

 

It remained in the air.

 

The smell was covered.

 

It mixed and became blurred.

 

Good.

 

I can hide a little.

 

Not completely, but I can conceal a little.

 

I stood up.

 

I pushed my body up.

 

My legs were short, so I wobbled.

 

My balance shook.

 

But I stood up.

 

I planted my feet again.

 

“We’re moving rooms too!”

 

Demian lifted me up.

 

My body was lifted into the air.

 

His embrace was firm.

 

It didn’t shake.

 

It smelled like winter.

 

Not a cold smell, but a clear smell.

 

It wasn’t cold.

 

He’s not a cold person.

 

I looked at the prayer room over his shoulder.

 

I watched the space receding behind us.

 

The candlelight was still flickering.

 

The small flame kept trembling.

 

The light pretends to be fine.

 

It remains as if nothing happened.

 

Light is always like that.

 

As we came outside, the air changed.

 

The corridor was dark.

 

Shadows stretched long along the wall.

 

The parts where light didn’t reach had settled deeper.

 

The scent of holy oil gradually weakened.

 

The smell that had filled the inside of my nose was pushed back.

 

I took a deep breath.

 

As much as possible with my short lungs.

 

My chest rose high and immediately fell.

 

As air entered inside, the back of my throat stung.

 

It’s okay.

 

Still okay.

 

My breathing continues.

 

My feet move.

 

Lermiel walked with Yurahel’s support.

 

His shoulder was tilted toward Yurahel.

 

His steps were unsteady.

 

His feet couldn’t properly step on the floor.

 

His balance swayed from time to time.

 

I watched this and bit my teeth.

 

My jaw hardened firmly.

 

I should have been faster.

 

I should have moved first.

 

That thought collided inside my chest.

 

Four years old is slow.

 

Short legs, short breath.

 

I hate being slow.

 

I hate the feeling of stopping.

 

“Rumel.”

 

Demian called out low.

 

His voice was pressed from behind.

 

“What you’ve done is enough.”

 

I shook my head.

 

I shook it clearly.

 

“No.”

 

Enough is not yet.

 

It’s the middle, not the end.

 

The silver dot remains.

 

It still wavers before my eyes.

 

The priest will come again.

 

The footsteps that left will return.

 

And I smell.

 

It remains inside my body.

 

The scent of immortality.

 

He said.

 

That he would find it.

 

That he would smell it again.

 

I thought to myself.

 

‘I’ll finish it before then.’

 

A four-year-old’s mind is short.

 

So decisions are short too.

 

Finish it.

 

Catch it first.

 

Don’t let go.

 

Lermiel’s room door opened.

 

Warm air flowed out from inside the door.

 

Inside was warm.

 

The fire was lit.

 

Light spread softly.

 

I came down from Demian’s arms.

 

My body came down to the floor.

 

I stepped on the floor with short legs.

 

My soles touched the solid floor.

 

And I walked toward Lermiel and held his hand again.

 

His hand was much larger than mine.

 

My small hand couldn’t wrap around his big hand completely, but I still held it.

 

I grasped it with my fingertips.

 

“Running away is not allowed.”

 

I said.

 

Lermiel quietly looked at me.

 

His gaze came down.

 

“Yes.”

 

He answered.

 

His voice trembled thinly.

 

* * *

 

Lermiel’s room had the fire lit.

 

Light softly covered the wall.

 

The firelight was warm, so my eyes relaxed for a moment.

 

My eyelids became heavy.

 

When you relax, you become dull.

 

Your body slows down.

 

When you become dull, you get caught.

 

I shook my head once.

 

I shook my head briefly to catch my senses.

 

Demian closed the door and latched it.

 

His hand moved quickly.

 

The metal made a clicking sound.

 

It was a short and solid sound.

 

That sound held my heart a little.

 

The feeling of being closed remained.

 

I scanned the floor.

 

I lowered my gaze and moved it quickly.

 

I checked the window and curtain, the bed, and also the chair and table.

 

And I took in the people with my eyes.

 

Demian.

 

Lermiel.

 

Yurahel.

 

Including me, four.

 

Lermiel stumbled while trying to sit in the chair.

 

His body tilted to one side.

 

Yurahel supported his arm.

 

His hand went up immediately.

 

A silver dot flickered very faintly on Yurahel’s wrist.

 

The light trembled very slightly.

 

I didn’t miss it.

 

My eyes fixed on it immediately.

 

“Again.”

 

I said.

 

Yurahel looked at me.

 

His eyes drooped tiredly.

 

“Not yet.”

 

He said quietly.

 

It was a sound mixed with breath.

 

The word “not yet” lingered long in my ears.

 

It sounded short but lingered long.

 

At the Research Institute, “not yet” was always continuous.

 

An endless “not yet.”

 

A “not yet” where the next thing kept coming.

 

I bit my lips hard.

 

The inside of my mouth stung.

 

Demian rolled up Lermiel’s sleeve to look at the wound.

 

The cloth rolled upward.

 

On Lermiel’s arm, a thin line remained.

 

It remained long on his skin.

 

It looked like a line drawn with a knife.

 

Divine power is a knife.

 

I confirmed again to myself.

 

Demian asked.

 

He asked without taking his eyes off.

 

“The sensation.”

 

Lermiel nodded slightly.

 

The movement was slow.

 

“It’s numb.”

 

I searched the table.

 

My hands moved first.

 

I pushed away the things placed on the table one by one.

 

The wooden surface touched my palm.

 

It wasn’t cold but it was hard.

 

‘Water, basin, towel.’

 

I searched quickly in my mind.

 

My eyes scanned from the lowest things.

 

There was no holy water.

 

Instead, there was one small glass bottle.

 

It was placed toward the edge of the table.

 

It glimmered faintly in the light.

 

It looked like a medicine bottle.

 

I picked up that glass bottle.

 

My fingers wrapped around the glass surface.

 

A cold sensation touched my fingertips.

 

A weak sweet smell came from the glass bottle.

 

It was a smell that stuck to my nose.

 

Sweet is suspicious.

 

I shook the bottle.

 

I moved my wrist briefly.

 

Splash.

 

The liquid moved.

 

There was a sound of it hitting the inside.

 

I looked up at Demian.

 

My gaze went upward.

 

“What’s this?”

 

Demian glanced at the bottle briefly and said.

 

His eyes swept down once and went back up.

 

“It’s medicine.”

 

“What happens if you drink it?”

 

When I asked, Demian answered.

 

The words followed immediately.

 

“If you drink it, you fall asleep.”

 

Sleep is dangerous.

 

When your eyes close, you can’t see anything.

 

Tonight is even more dangerous.

 

If the priest comes again, I can’t stop him.

 

I shook my head.

 

I shook it quickly.

 

“I won’t sleep!”

 

Lermiel laughed quietly.

 

“You don’t have to sleep.”

 

Words saying it’s okay always sound strangely like lies.

 

Like they’re not sincere.

 

Actually, sick people should sleep. Because then it hurts less.

 

But if you sleep, you get caught.

 

If you close your eyes, it’s over.

 

It was troubling.

 

When a four-year-old has worries, it’s normal for tears to come up right away, my laboratory colleagues used to say it was all because I was young.

 

My chest felt a little queasy at the sudden thought.

—————
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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