Will You Cry for Me If I Die? - Chapter 82

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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 82

I pressed my lips tightly together.

I blocked the words from coming out.

Us, on the same side.

Two words stuck together.

Those words are both sweet and scary.

Sweet things make you hold hands.

Sweet things make you believe, and when you believe, they hurt you.

I know that.

Memory moves first.

Still, I didn’t take off the bracelet.

I left my wrist as it was.

If I don’t take it off, it means I’ve accepted it.

The line remains as it is.

I was a little surprised to see myself accepting it.

The inside wavered for a moment.

Then very quiet footsteps were heard from the corridor.

The floor barely echoed.

Quiet footsteps belong to Lermiel.

It was easy to distinguish.

Lermiel walks as if placing his feet on snow.

He reduces the sound.

I had that quietness memorized.

My ears recognized it first.

The door opened slightly.

A thin gap appeared.

Lermiel came inside.

His body flowed like a shadow.

He was holding a small glass bottle in his hand.

His fingers wrapped around the bottle.

Inside the glass bottle was a star-shaped piece of wood.

The ends were split into several branches.

That piece glowed very faintly in the darkness.

The light formed weakly.

It’s the same light as the lamp we made earlier.

It was a familiar brightness.

Looking at that light, my chest sank a little.

The inside slowly relaxed.

When it sinks, breathing becomes easier.

Air came in.

Lermiel placed the glass bottle on the small table beside the bed.

His hand didn’t shake.

He silently looked at my wrist.

His gaze touched the bracelet.

The eyes that saw the bracelet stopped for a moment.

Movement was cut off.

When you stop, you think.

You organize inside.

When you think, you calculate.

You connect the before and after.

I dislike calculations, so I made my body a little stiffer.

I gathered my muscles inward.

Lermiel slowly lifted and showed his own wrist.

His arm rose smoothly.

There was also a thread bracelet on his wrist.

Light caught on it weakly.

Gray thread, small cloth piece, winter pattern.

The shape was the same.

Exactly the same.

The same place as mine.

When things are the same, my heart becomes strange.

The inside shakes.

When it becomes strange, tears might come up.

The chest gets pulled first.

I hate crying.

Sound remains.

So I took a very small breath.

Theodor stuck out his lips and spoke.

His lips came forward.

“You got one too”

Jealousy is cute.

Expressions change quickly.

Looking at Theodor’s face makes me laugh.

The eyes react first.

I pressed down the laughter tightly.

I rolled my lips inward.

Lermiel looked at my glass bottle lamp.

His gaze stayed inside the bottle.

Then he looked outside the window.

His head turned slowly.

Outside the window, snow was falling slowly.

White lines continued downward.

Snow erases sound.

The outside becomes softly blocked.

When sound is erased, the heart trembles less.

The inside settles down.

Lermiel spoke in a very small voice.

Breath was barely mixed in.

“Today is quiet”

The words were placed lightly on the air.

Saying it’s quiet is similar to saying it’s safe.

The meanings overlap.

I nodded my head.

I moved it briefly up and down.

Theodor took out more cloth from the basket.

His hand went into the basket.

This time it was a small pouch.

The opening was narrow.

A pouch is a place for hiding.

The inside is covered.

A hiding place is a place I like.

An invisible spot is comfortable.

Theodor held out a pouch to me.

He placed it on my palm.

“Put cookies in”

The words followed immediately.

Cookies are sweet.

They remain in my mouth.

I want to keep sweet things for a long time.

I want to hold onto them before they disappear.

I pulled the cookie box I made yesterday toward me.

The box slid across the cloth.

When I opened the box, a little sweet smell remained.

It was stuck to the inside of the lid.

The remaining smell is a memory.

It’s invisible but it remains.

If the memory is a good memory, it hurts less.

The inside tears less.

I am learning that.

I learn by feeling.

I took out one snowman king cookie.

Small decorations were attached to the surface.

The snowman king carries a star.

The star was placed on top of his head.

The star told me not to lose my way.

Those words remained inside.

I recalled those words.

What was stuck came up.

And I put the cookie in the pouch.

The cloth gently opened and closed.

The pouch swelled.

The inside was filled.

When it swells, it becomes mine.

The shape remains.

Lermiel pushed his glass bottle slightly toward me.

His hand slid across the table.

I tapped that bottle with my fingertip.

I touched it lightly.

The glass made a small sound.

It rang short and thin.

That sound was small enough not to startle.

It didn’t remain in my ears for long.

I liked that sound.

The inside didn’t shake.

Theodor lay down at the end of my bed.

His body was laid out long on its side.

He pulled the blanket a little and placed it over his legs.

The cloth was placed over his legs.

The blanket is mine, but now it’s okay to share.

The boundary became blurred.

If it’s okay to share, it means I’m safe in this room.

The conditions change.

When I’m safe, my eyes close.

I felt drowsiness rising.

My eyelids slowly came down.

Lermiel sat in the chair beside the bed.

The chair made a small sound.

He leaned his back.

His body touched behind.

Leaning means resting.

Strength is released.

People who rest don’t attack.

Movement decreases.

I liked that fact.

The inside became comfortable.

Outside, snow continued to fall.

Lines continued beyond the glass.

The window gradually turned white.

The outside became blurred.

When it turns white, you can’t see outside.

The boundary disappears.

When you can’t see, it’s less scary.

Gazes decrease.

When it’s less scary, the heart relaxes.

What was bound becomes loose.

I fidgeted with the bracelet on my wrist under the blanket.

The thread caught on my finger.

The thread felt rough.

The surface wasn’t smooth.

I should dislike rough things, but today I liked that roughness because it felt real.

It remained on my hand.

The snowflake inside my glass bottle shook.

The light moved just a little.

The small light touched my eyelids.

It brushed thinly.

I slowly closed my eyes following that light.

My gaze folded inward.

The sounds of the Founding Festival didn’t rise tonight.

They were pushed far away.

Instead, the silence of snow, the smell of wood, and the rough texture of thread remained.

Various things were layered.

I didn’t dislike those remaining things.

The inside was quiet.

And not disliking it might mean this is my home.

* * *

The snow froze overnight, making the courtyard look solid.

The surface was smoothly hardened.

Hard snow makes crisp sounds under your feet.

The sound of thin cracking continued.

I liked that sound, so I stuck my feet out of the blanket first.

My toes touched the air first.

As my soles grew cold, my mind became clear.

The coldness came up immediately.

When I become clear, my body moves quickly.

My body moves before my thoughts.

Four-year-olds are good at moving quickly.

Moving small and fast.

I got down from the bed, put on my gloves, and touched the string bracelet on my wrist once.

My finger caught on the string.

The rough string caught on my finger.

The surface was bumpy.

When it catches, I feel like I’m here.

It was where my hand stopped.

I liked that feeling.

The inside wasn’t empty.

As I walked out into the corridor, sunlight streamed in long through the window.

The light stretched long along the floor.

The sunlight made thin golden lines on the stone floor.

The lines continued straight.

The golden lines looked like paths.

They were paths laid on the floor.

I walked following those lines, placing my feet along them.

I aligned my toes with the lines.

When I put my feet on the lines, it felt like I was making a path.

Each time I moved, the line continued.

If I make a path, I won’t lose my way.

It won’t break.

With those thoughts, I headed toward the kitchen.

My footsteps naturally continued.

Warm smells leaked out from the kitchen doorway.

Air pushed out from inside.

The scents of butter, milk, and baked bread were mixed together.

It was a soft and rich smell.

That smell immediately made my stomach rumble.

The inside reacted.

When I entered the dining hall, small bowls were lined up on the long table.

The spacing was even.

The bowls weren’t white, but closer to cream-colored.

Light touched them softly.

Since they weren’t completely white, my eyes hurt less.

The lines weren’t harsh.

By the window, the glass jar lamp we made yesterday was still there.

It hadn’t moved from its place.

Since it was daytime the light was weak, but the snowflakes inside the jar sparkled in the sunlight.

Thin light caught inside.

The sparkle was small, so it was fine.

It didn’t sting my eyes.

I lightly touched my back with my fingertips.

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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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