Will You Cry for Me If I Die? - Chapter 75

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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 75

I was about to nod my head but stopped.

The movement stopped halfway.

In the morning, there are things to do first.

Eating.

And checking.

“Food.”

I said.

Theodor smiled and nodded his head.

The movement continued lightly.

“Right, food.”

He was about to take my hand but stopped.

His hand stopped halfway.

A stopped hand is a careful hand.

It doesn’t force or drag.

Carefulness is good.

I extended my hand first.

I moved first.

If I wear gloves, it won’t hurt.

I took out the gloves and put my fingers in one by one.

My fingers were short so they kept slipping out.

They didn’t go all the way in.

I frowned.

My eyebrows gathered inward.

Theodor saw this and said.

“Should I help you?”

The words came out lightly.

I answered immediately.

I didn’t hesitate.

“I’ll do it.”

Saying I’ll do it is important.

If I do it, I own it.

If I do it, my body is mine.

I didn’t want to forget that.

I pushed my fingers in again and put them on all the way.

The gloves wrapped around my hands.

After putting on all the gloves, my hands became warm.

The fur inside covered my skin.

When it’s warm, my mood becomes loose.

What was hard loosens up a little.

When it loosens, laughter comes out.

When I tried not to laugh by rolling and biting my lips, a funny sound leaked out.

Theodor saw this and laughed along.

The corners of our mouths went up in the same direction.

Expressions of the same shape overlapped.

If you laugh together, you’re friends.

I’m still unfamiliar with the word friend and the feeling, but I think I understood this a little.

Moving together is less scary.

We met Demian in the corridor on the way to the dining hall.

In the corridor, morning light came in long and thinly divided the floor.

Bright colors that came through the window gaps continued like lines on the stone floor.

Demian’s clothes were always neat.

No wrinkles, and the lines weren’t disheveled.

When neat, it looks solid.

It looks like it won’t shake.

When solid, it looks safe.

It looks like it won’t collapse even when hit.

Demian looked at my gloves and stopped his eyes for a moment.

His gaze stuck on my hands.

He asked.

“What’s that?”

I said immediately.

I didn’t stop.

“A gift.”

Demian paused for a beat and asked.

There was a short gap before the words continued.

“Who gave it to you?”

I answered.

“Lermiel.”

Demian’s eyes narrowed very slightly.

The lines changed minutely.

Narrowed eyes are calculation.

It’s movement that fits something together inside.

I hate calculation, but Demian’s calculation is calculation that protects me.

It doesn’t push me outside.

“I see. That’s nice.”

I felt a little more at ease inside.

Actually, just before, my insides had sunk down once.

The dining hall was warm.

As soon as we crossed the door, the air changed.

The warmth that touched the walls stayed inside as it was.

The smell of bread came first.

The baked smell spread softly.

I climbed up and sat on the chair.

The chair was still big, but less unfamiliar than yesterday.

Today the shirt was less long so it caught less.

It didn’t reach below my knees.

When it catches less, I get less angry.

My body is less uncomfortable.

Theodor placed soup in front of me.

The bowl made a small sound as it touched the wooden table.

The soup was steaming.

Thin steam rose upward.

When it steams, it’s hot.

When it’s hot, you have to be careful.

I lightly stirred the surface with a spoon.

Round lines formed on top of the soup.

Soup that spins round and round is like a whirlpool.

It’s a shape that curls inward.

I don’t like whirlpools.

It’s hard to escape.

But this whirlpool is one I made, so it’s okay.

I moved it with my own hands.

Then the door opened quietly.

It moved slowly so the door wouldn’t scrape the floor.

Lermiel came in.

His footsteps left almost no sound.

He had taken off his cloak today.

The black cloth that had been draped over his shoulders was gone.

Without the cloak, his body looked smaller.

His lines were revealed.

Looking smaller makes him less scary.

The sense of distance decreases.

I looked at him and spoke first.

I spoke without putting down my spoon.

“The gloves are nice.”

Lermiel hesitated for a moment.

His steps broke very slightly.

Hesitation is confusion.

An unprepared reaction.

He answered quietly.

He pressed his voice down low.

“That’s a relief.”

The word relief is warm.

It comes down softly.

Warmth is dangerous, but it’s okay in the morning.

It’s still a time when nothing has collapsed yet.

Theodor put down his spoon and glared at Lermiel.

His gaze pierced straight through.

Glaring is fighting.

It’s already started before words come out.

I hate fighting.

The noise gets loud.

I stood my spoon between the two of them.

It was a thin line erected on the table.

A spoon is not a knife.

It has no blade.

But when you stand it up, a line is created.

When a line is created, things stop.

Movement is cut off.

Theodor asked.

His voice became a little harder.

“Why do you keep coming to our room?”

Lermiel answered.

He didn’t move his gaze much.

“I’m here to eat too.”

It didn’t stick.

Theodor asked again.

The words continued.

“Why here.”

Lermiel glanced at my hands for a moment before speaking.

His gaze lingered on my gloved hands.

“Because it’s warm here.”

Because it’s warm.

The reason was simple.

He didn’t hide it.

Those words were strangely honest.

They were unadorned words.

When someone is honest, there are fewer gaps to attack.

There’s nothing to grab onto.

Theodor closed his mouth.

The words didn’t continue.

I didn’t miss that gap.

I slipped into the stopped moment.

“Eat together.”

I said.

Lermiel heard my words and nodded.

Then he sat across from me.

The sound of the chair being pulled was very quiet.

Lermiel didn’t lean back deeply, but sat with his back straight.

Even his sitting posture was quiet.

His movements weren’t large.

I watched that quietly, then went back to eating my soup.

The movement of the spoon going into and out of my mouth repeated like a rule.

When there are rules, it’s less anxious.

Steam was thinly spread over the dining table.

Warm air rose upward, then cooled and became hazy near the window.

The window was hazily white.

It looked like the snow outside had spread to the inside.

I looked at that for a moment, then looked back into my bowl.

The inside was more stable.

After eating, Theodor tried to drag me outside.

His hand wrapped around my arm.

The force wasn’t too strong, but the direction was decided.

I hate being dragged.

I pulled my hand away and spoke.

When I pulled my hand away, there was a sound of cloth brushing.

“I’ll walk.”

Theodor stopped.

His moving body froze in place.

He asked.

“Then where are you going.”

I pointed to the window.

My fingertip pointed toward the glass.

“Snow.”

Looking at snow clears my mind.

It feels like the hazy things get washed away.

When it clears, anxiety decreases.

The inside shakes less.

I like it when anxiety decreases.

When I went out to the courtyard, snow had piled up to my ankles.

As I opened the door, the air immediately changed.

Cold air brushed against my face.

When I breathed in, the inside of my nose stung.

The floor was completely covered in white.

The untrodden parts were smooth, while the already passed areas were pressed down.

When ankles sink in, it’s hard to walk.

Each time I lifted my foot, snow followed up then fell back down.

Difficult, but fun.

My body moves slowly.

I lifted my foot and stomped it down with a thud.

The moment my foot touched, the snow compressed and made a sound.

The snow crumpled and a small hole formed.

The hole is my trace.

The place I passed through.

Leaving traces can be scary, but now it’s okay to leave them.

It’s fine if they don’t get erased.

Because this is my home.

I was thinking that when I surprised myself.

My home.

Those words rolled around inside me.

They didn’t come out of my mouth, but repeated several times inside.

Strange, but not unpleasant.

Theodor packed a snowball.

He gathered snow with both hands and pressed it.

The snow compressed between his hands and took shape.

He raised his hand as if to throw it at me.

His arm went up.

I narrowed my eyes.

My gaze aimed directly.

“Don’t.”

I said.

Theodor asked.

His hand hadn’t come down yet.

“Why?”

I answered.

I didn’t think long.

“Clothes get wet.”

When wet, cloth becomes heavy.

It sticks to the body.

When wet, it’s cold.

When wind touches it, it gets even colder.

When cold, it’s a cold.

Colds hurt.

The body slows down.

I hate being sick.

Theodor thought for a moment, then gently rolled the snowball in front of my feet.

He lowered his hand.

The snowball moved as if sliding over the snow.

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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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