Will You Cry for Me If I Die? - Chapter 78

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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 78

Hot things are dangerous.

If your hand touches them, it hurts.

Dangerous things should be avoided.

I nodded and took a step back.

I put a little distance between us.

Iden put on gloves and opened the oven door.

Thick gloves covered his hands.

As the door opened, heat rushed out from inside.

Hot air touched my face.

The air rushed forward then disappeared.

I reflexively closed my eyes.

My eyelids came down.

When you close your eyes, it becomes dark for a moment.

Light disappears.

I don’t like darkness, but this is warm darkness.

Warm darkness is okay.

Cookies came up onto the tray.

Hot steam still remained.

Snowmen and stars were lined up in a row.

The brown-baked surface shone evenly.

The edges looked slightly firm, and the center looked soft.

I said immediately.

“Pretty.”

My eyes followed along.

Theodor was about to clap but stopped, making sound only with his mouth.

His mouth opened then closed.

Lermiel looked at the tray and said very quietly.

His gaze stayed on the cookies lined up in a row.

“Success.”

Success is a good word.

It’s a completed form.

Good words make my heart strong.

They hold me steady so I don’t shake.

I picked up one of my snowman kings.

Warmth remained at my fingertips.

The surface was slightly rough.

And I held it out to Lermiel.

I stretched my hand forward.

“You eat it.”

Lermiel asked.

His eyes briefly moved from my hand to my face.

“Me.”

I nodded.

I didn’t add more words.

“Yeah.”

Lermiel took the snowman king and bit into it.

The sound of teeth touching was small.

The sound of breaking followed.

He chewed slowly.

His jaw moved gently.

Slowly was still good.

It was a pace without rushing.

Lermiel spoke.

But he spoke clearly.

“Sweet.”

When I heard those words, my chest seemed to become sweet too.

The inside loosened a little.

I spoke quietly.

I spoke without opening my mouth wide.

“Friend.”

Lermiel looked at me.

His eyes didn’t waver.

Those eyes weren’t surprised.

They didn’t avoid me either.

He answered briefly.

“Yeah.”

That single syllable was lighter than snow, but lasted long.

It floated in the air then settled.

After eating the cookie, my fingertips became sweet.

The feeling of sugar remained.

When things become sweet, the heart loosens.

Tension is released.

When I loosen up, a yawn comes out without me knowing.

My mouth opened by itself.

A yawn is letting your guard down.

It’s a moment when the body opens up.

Letting your guard down is dangerous.

I quickly covered my mouth with the back of my hand.

The back of my hand without gloves covered my mouth.

If you cover it, it’s less visible.

If it’s less visible, it’s less embarrassing.

Embarrassment exists even for four-year-olds.

It rises small then goes down.

Theodor peered at my face.

His gaze came close.

He didn’t say he saw my yawn.

No words came out.

Not saying anything is consideration.

It’s the choice to pretend not to know.

Consideration comes out often here.

I still found that strange.

Strange, but not bad.

Iden organized the tray and said.

He gathered the cookies to one side.

“Now the courtyard.”

The word courtyard knocked inside me.

It was the sound of going outside.

The courtyard has snow, and snow becomes play.

I can move.

I nodded my head.

My body reacted first.

Demian stood at the doorway and saw us off.

He remained standing inside the door.

He didn’t come out.

His feet didn’t move.

Not coming out means he’s busy.

It’s a position of guarding the inside.

Being busy might be the work of creating safety.

He takes care of things in places we can’t see.

I didn’t dislike Demian’s busyness.

When he’s busy, no one can touch us.

An invisible line is created.

When we went out to the courtyard, the snow had become a little softer.

My feet sank deep when they touched it.

More sunlight came in than before.

The light spread widely over the snow.

When sunlight comes in, the snow sparkles.

Small particles caught the light and glittered.

When it sparkles, it looks like jewels.

It’s not hard, but it looked that way.

Jewels are expensive.

You can’t touch expensive things carelessly.

You mustn’t break them.

But snow is okay to touch.

It’s okay to press it with your hands.

I liked that difference.

Things that are free and things that aren’t were divided.

Theodor came out carrying a long stick.

The stick was longer than his shoulder.

The end was pointed.

Sticks look dangerous.

If you swing them, they reach.

When something looks dangerous, it’s scary.

I stepped back two steps.

My feet left marks on the snow.

Theodor stuck the stick into the snow.

The snow compressed and the stick was embedded.

The stick stood without falling over.

It stood straight up.

A small piece of cloth was attached to the top.

The cloth swayed very slightly in the wind.

Winter patterns were drawn on the piece of cloth.

Theodor said proudly.

“A flag.”

At the end of the stick he had planted, the piece of cloth swayed very slightly in the wind.

The cloth was thin, so its movement wasn’t large.

Each time it swayed, the winter pattern folded and unfolded.

I had seen flags at the Founding Festival.

It was a day when many flags stood in a row.

People stood facing the same direction and made the same sounds.

The air from that time suddenly caught in my throat.

My breath became thin for a moment.

The thinned breath caught in my throat.

Air that stopped while entering circled around inside.

I pressed my chest firmly with my gloved hand.

My palm touched thickly.

I have to press for it to settle down.

It has to settle down for the inside to become calm.

It has to settle down for me to see the present.

To see again the white ground in front of me, the sunlight, and the swaying cloth.

Lermiel quietly approached my side.

There was almost no sound left on the snow.

He looked at my hand, then very slowly took out his own hand to show me.

The hand that came out of his pocket stopped above the air.

White powder was stuck to his palm.

It was flour from earlier.

The powder was thinly stuck between the lines of his palm.

He brushed off that powder.

His wrist moved briefly.

The powder flew in the wind.

Small particles sparkled briefly in the sunlight.

When it flies, it disappears.

It scatters without a trace.

The action of showing something disappearing was strangely comforting.

It felt like it was okay not to remain.

I looked up at Lermiel.

His face hadn’t changed.

His eyes and mouth were the same.

He didn’t say anything.

When there are no words, there’s no sound.

When he doesn’t say anything, the inside of my head is less noisy.

I liked that quietness.

When sounds decrease, breathing becomes easier.

Iden made snowballs and shared them with us.

He gathered snow with his hands and rolled it into rounds.

He placed them one by one on our hands.

Snowballs are cold and round.

When they touch your palm, you immediately feel their shape.

When something is round, it’s soft.

There are no edges.

When something is soft, it hurts less.

Even if it touches hard, it doesn’t pierce.

I rolled the snowball in my palm.

The snow slid over my gloves.

The small wound on my palm tickled.

The inside was lightly brushed.

When it tickles, I’m alive.

It means sensation remains.

Theodor threw his snowball with a whoosh.

His arm moved greatly.

The snowball broke apart in midair.

Its form collapsed before reaching its destination.

As it shattered, powder scattered widely.

White particles dispersed in all directions.

When it spreads, it’s like a blizzard.

Vision becomes momentarily blurred.

I like blizzards.

They create parts that can’t be seen.

Blizzards make it less obvious when you hide.

Even when you move, you’re not immediately exposed.

With that thought, I packed my snowball more firmly.

I put a little more strength into my hands.

The snow stuck together more solidly.

I made it so the form wouldn’t collapse easily.

Iden drew a line on the ground.

The wooden stick scraped long across the snow.

A thin line formed where it was scraped.

He drew a long line on the snow with the wooden stick.

The line is a boundary.

It divides here and there.

I dislike boundaries, but lines for games are okay.

It’s not a line meant to block me, but one to keep me from getting hurt.

Iden pointed to one side with his finger.

It was one end on the snow.

“Here.”

Then he pointed to the opposite side.

It was the space beyond the line.

“There.”

Just those words created rules.

Where to stand, how far you could go was decided.

When there are rules, it’s easy to play.

You can see where you need to stop.

I hate rules, but I like these kinds of rules.

Because they’re rules made to keep you from getting hurt when hit.

Theodor stood on my side.

He came right next to me.

He pointed at me with his arm and spoke.

His arm came out a little in front of me.

“Rumel is on my side.”

The words “on my side” echoed loudly inside me.

The sound bounced around several times within.

When it echoes, it makes you want to believe.

When you believe, you lean on it.

When you want to believe, your heart becomes weak.

I hate becoming weak, so I deliberately hardened my face.

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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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