Will You Cry for Me If I Die? - Chapter 65

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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 65

Quickly.

Quickly.

I don’t want to go any lower from here.

I hate going down to deeper places even more.

But the path was leading downward.

The floor of the corridor was slanted very slightly.

The further forward I went, the more my feet flowed in a downward direction.

‘This isn’t the Research Institute.’

I repeated it many times.

The words circled inside my mouth.

‘This is Winter Path. Winter Path!’

I repeated the same words.

I blocked other thoughts from intruding.

And no one must know that I’m nervous.

My body mustn’t give me away first.

The air in the corridor was humid.

The air pressed between the wall and floor settled down heavily.

When it’s humid, smells linger long.

They don’t disappear.

I hated that, so I made my breathing even shorter.

I breathed in short, cut-off breaths.

I exhaled shortly.

When you breathe shortly, your head gets dizzy.

My insides swayed weakly.

Even dizzy, I walked.

I didn’t stop my feet.

A four-year-old can fall right over when dizzy.

The legs lose their strength.

I didn’t want to fall.

So I touched the wall.

I stretched my hand to the side to check the reachable distance.

The wall was cold and wet.

The surface wasn’t smooth.

Every time my palm touched it, I felt small bumps.

The sensation of wet stone stuck to my palm.

I hate things that stick.

They’re hard to remove.

The Research Institute stuck too.

Gowns, straps, metal.

They stuck and wouldn’t come off.

I shook my head briefly left and right.

It’s winter now.

Even if winter sticks, it’s ice, so you can remove it.

It breaks.

I told myself that.

The sound of water drops from ahead kept coming.

They were falling from one side of the corridor.

Drip.

Drip.

Regular.

The intervals don’t waver.

It was the sound of falling from the same height.

When it’s regular, someone is waiting.

Waiting is a stopped state.

Being stopped is the same as hiding.

I hate waiting.

If you wait, you get caught.

You can’t move.

Demian scattered frost thinner with his fingertips.

He dragged his hand down low and scattered it as if drawing lines on the floor.

The floor was covered white.

The color of the dirt was hidden.

When you step on frost, it makes less noise.

Less noise is better noise.

I moved my feet carefully.

I made my toes touch first.

I distributed the weight as I put it down.

Because my feet are short, my stride is short too.

The length of one step wasn’t long.

The short stride was actually quieter.

The area pressed at once was small.

That’s an advantage right now.

Iden took a few steps forward then stopped.

His steps cut off.

He raised his hand and signaled.

His palm lifted upward.

Stop.

I stopped immediately.

My feet stuck to the floor.

When you stop, your ears grow bigger.

They catch more sounds.

Another sound entered through my ears.

Breathing.

Not just one.

They were overlapping.

Two.

Three.

The intervals of breathing were different.

The positions were also slightly different.

Very far away, there was also the sound of metal scraping.

Something brushed against the floor or wall.

Metal is often a weapon.

Something with a blade.

Weapons hurt.

My throat is dry again.

The inside of my mouth became rough.

My tongue was rough.

Demian spoke low.

He didn’t turn his body.

“Back.”

I nodded and stepped back one step.

I lifted my foot and moved it backward from the same spot.

Stepping back would create more footprints.

Pressed traces would remain on the dirt.

The frost would cover them.

I looked at Demian’s fingertips.

Frost continued to spread.

A thin membrane expanded along the floor.

Winter erases.

It covers traces.

I liked those words.

Lermiel asked quietly.

He spoke while forcibly suppressing his breath.

“Who is it?”

Iden spoke while exhaling.

There was a brief pause.

“Probably.”

I hate the word probably.

Because it’s uncertain and has gaps.

I pursed my lips.

Iden continued speaking.

“There might be those who guard the old passages.”

Those who guard.

Those words don’t lean to one side.

They could be enemies or allies.

I hate words like this.

When the shape is blurry, there’s no direction.

When it’s ambiguous, it becomes scary.

When I get scared, I might cry.

If I cry, it’s over.

The sound spreads.

Gazes gather.

I clenched my hands tighter to avoid crying.

My fingers pressed against each other.

The inside of my palms hurt.

I can endure pain.

It’s better than sound.

Then light flickered in the darkness.

A small dot moved from the front of the passage.

A small lantern.

The light spread yellow.

As the light approached, its range widened.

As the yellow light drew closer, human forms became visible.

Shadows moved first from behind the light.

They weren’t tall.

Not adults, but not children either.

Their shoulder lines were low, and their waists were thin.

Another one behind them.

It followed at a distance from the first.

And another one.

Three.

Three is the same as us.

My heart sank a little less.

Being the same doesn’t mean safe, but matching numbers is less scary.

The balance is right.

A voice came from ahead.

“Stop.”

It was a hard voice.

It was a command.

I hated that command.

Commands are the Research Institute.

My body stiffens before the words even end.

Demian stepped forward.

He moved his foot quietly.

He spoke low.

He didn’t drag out the sound.

“Ikaros.”

The name echoed low within the passage.

The light ahead flickered.

The hand holding the lantern shook just a little.

The light swayed as it brushed the wall.

* * *

Demian raised his fingertips and bloomed some frost.

His fingers lifted toward the air.

Cold energy spread thinly.

Frost bloomed like flowers in the air.

Small crystals overlapped to form shapes.

Frost flowers are the Winter Family’s emblem.

A mark that can be recognized by sight.

The light stopped for a moment.

The lantern didn’t move.

The three ahead exchanged glances with each other.

Their heads tilted just slightly.

The one standing at the front spoke.

“Young Lord?”

I breathed a little louder.

My chest rose up.

Iden stepped forward.

He passed beside Demian and stood in front.

“Yes, it’s me.”

He said.

There was laughter in that voice.

Words that came out with the corners of his mouth slightly raised.

When there’s laughter, it’s less dangerous.

The tension eases a little.

One of the three ahead spoke low.

“Count.”

There was wariness mixed in those short words.

They don’t finish confirming.

I tensed up again.

My hands stiffened even more.

Demian spoke.

He took another step forward and fixed his gaze.

“Clear the way.”

His words were low and firm.

The boy in front shook his head.

The movement wasn’t slow.

“No.”

He was resolute.

Demian’s eyes grew cold.

His gaze sank.

Cold eyes mean the end.

There’s nothing after that.

I know that ending.

If I get caught between that ending, I’ll break.

My body can’t handle it.

I don’t want to break.

So I stepped forward.

Four-year-old feet are short, but they can move forward.

I moved small and fast.

I squeezed between Demian and Iden and took a step forward.

“I’m No. 1!”

I said.

I raised my voice and pushed out the sound.

My voice was clumsy and childish.

The words weren’t smooth.

But it was still loud.

It echoed in the corridor.

It bounced off the walls and came back.

Loud sounds make adults stop.

At the Research Institute, even the researchers would pause when a child screamed.

That pause was an opening for me.

Time to catch my breath.

I needed an opening now too.

Light shone on me.

The torch came a little closer.

The three in front looked at me.

All their gazes focused at once.

One of them drew in a breath.

His chest moved quickly.

“A kid?”

Good.

A flustered voice.

His words wavered.

When flustered, the blade is slow.

Hands don’t move right away.

I stepped further forward.

I pushed one more step.

I spread my palm.

I held my hand out in front.

A small palm.

There was dirt and snow on it.

Dried dirt was stuck between the lines of my palm.

Unmelted snow clung to the back of my hand.

I showed it to them on purpose.

I don’t like it when it’s clean because it looks like the Research Institute.

“Open the door.”

I said.

I cut it short and threw it out.

I didn’t make my words long.

The boy looked down at me.

His gaze fell from above to below.

His eyes wavered.

His pupils slipped to the side for a moment, then came back.

When they waver, there’s a heart.

Completely hardened eyes don’t move.

If there’s a heart, you can negotiate.

I don’t really know what negotiation is, but I watched and learned at the Research Institute.

When researchers fought with words, who won.

When they exchanged words, who took one more step forward.

The winning side brought up bigger justifications.

They attached reasons to the front of their words.

When the reason was big, the other side was pushed back.

Justification is life.

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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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