The Girl Wants to Be M*rdered

Chapter 60



A person who has never broken a bone in their life—can they even imagine the pain of someone whose arm has been severed, screaming in agony?

Can someone who has never been burned understand the despair and lament contained in the final screams of a person dying in raging flames?

It’s like saying a person who has lived their entire life in a dark cave knows the vastness of the fields and the height of the sky, or that a lonely person who has never experienced true love can understand the pain of heartbreak.

Well…

They might feel pity for others.

They might feel compassion for others.

But, I swear,

they can never empathize with others.

Especially if that person is someone far removed, without ties to them.

No matter how emotional humans are or how intellectually evolved they may be,

a person who has never truly experienced something can never fully understand the heart and feelings of the one who has lived it.

To confidently claim otherwise would be impossible.

The size of the pain they’ve experienced,

the depth of the despair they’ve felt—

it’s all too different, painfully so.

Crack…

“…Give it back…”

“……….”

“…My little sister… please… give her back… no, please give her back…”

That’s why I will never understand.

The heart of a person, weakly clutching my collar with a frail grip that doesn’t seem to have any strength, staving off their shaking legs.

I know that I, too, cannot do anything, while Remi Akaia, shedding transparent tears, begs desperately for anything to be said.

The day I truly understand her feelings will never come.

The emotions I feel now are like feathers compared to what she endures.

And if that day does come when I understand it for real,

I will probably foolishly accept my ignorance.

Thud.

“Why…!”

Thud, thud. My chest aches.

“Why…”

The fists clashing against each other hit my heart.

“Why… why..! Why does Aris have to go through this…?”

“…………..”

“I thought… I thought we finally met again…! I thought we could be happy again…!”

The staged murder disguised as a duel, which felt like one of us had to die for it to end, was abruptly halted by a child.

Seeing Alice, she dropped the sword she had raised to kill me, collapsing to her knees in the dirt, looking as if she had been abandoned by her parents.

That weak sight, reminiscent of my former self, prevented me from unleashing the rage still coiling in my chest.

This is futile,

all is futile.

It was just a fight, a mere waste.

“………Hmm…”

The child, relieved to see us in a lull, fell into a faint sleep.

As I rushed toward the fainted child, I sensed another hand overlapping with mine.

In the moment our hands touched, Remi Akaia and I exchanged a glance, silently confirming Alice’s condition before laying her down.

“……..”

“……..”

A single exchange.

Not a word was spoken, just the touch of fingertips.

No one could have known that the brief moment our fingers intertwined would absurdly conclude the fight that had been halted.

But it was a promise regarding Alice,

and it held more weight than any contract written in ink on paper.

Sleeping Alice.

Surrounding her, we each confessed to one another what had happened to the child, along with the sins we had committed.

What I had done to Alice.

What she had done to Aris.

And lastly, what had happened to the child.

We confessed it all.

It was the moment when the evil known as Truth was laid bare.

All hopes, all possibilities, vanished, leaving only pure malice to fill the greenhouse encased in glass.

“….Aris… Aris…!”

“………….”

Yes.

What arrived to an elder sister, desperately searching for her lost younger sibling, was the incredibly cruel fact that her sister did not remember her.

Ironically, aside from the one name that had pushed her to that extent, “Anna,” the child named Alice had forgotten everything:

the memories of her childhood,

the faces of her parents who gave her life,

even her own name.

Everything of the child had faded into the recesses of oblivion.

“…..Huh…. Huh… Ah, Aris… please respond, okay?”

“…………”

“…….Please….”

With both hands covering her mouth, she desperately whispered Alice’s true name, but the already-slumbering Alice could not respond.

Her pitiful form weeping next to the sleeping child was like someone mourning beside a corpse that had unjustly perished.

The heartfelt pity she felt for someone was no help at all.

Even the feelings stemming from pure compassion towards someone would seem nothing but filthy hypocrisy in her eyes.

So, all I could do was bow my head quietly like a doctor who must deliver the news of a patient’s death to a guardian.

I lowered myself, bowed my head.
That’s all there was.

“Why… must Alice be treated so cruelly…?”

Her question of why only Alice had to suffer.

Like a riddle I had pondered countless times, instead of searching for an answer, I gazed up at the dark sky of night.

Indeed.

Why, indeed?

Really, why?

A door designed never to open.

A window that does not show the outside scenery.

An oxymoron that tramples logic.

Facing this unsolvable question, overwhelmed by the absurdities of this world, I too found myself full of curiosity as I simply stared up at the sky.

The answer never came.

Once delusions or misinterpretations came to pass,

leaving behind the greenhouse that bore the misfortunes crafted by misunderstandings, Remi Akaia and I, having cleared some of the confusion through sincere conversation, stepped forward together, albeit awkwardly, one foot after another.

Like in a three-legged race at a sports festival, carefully, carefully, that we wouldn’t misstep.

We made our way to my dormitory, where I lived alone.

“……..”

“……..”

“…..Hmm…”

In our embrace, Alice lay horizontally, peacefully sleeping, resting in the span of our four stretched arms.

I took her two legs.

She took the head and chest.

A disreputable contest ensued just to claim a bit more of Alice’s body.

The debate over who had the right to hold Alice’s upper body had begun in the greenhouse but continued down the sparsely populated path, yet thanks to the kind consideration of a certain gentle mercenary, the princess indulged in the long-awaited feeling of her little sister’s body, so I’ll just let it go at that.

Puff puff.

‘You can’t even play rock-paper-scissors.’

‘Ah, you’re so noisyㅡㅡ’

I let you win on purpose, and you didn’t even realize it.

What are you talking about? You were all red in the face just a while ago, angry.

…Want to try again?

Nope, not doing it. You’re really bad at it.

Thwack thwack.

“…….!!”

“…….!!”

Let’s skip the brief, disgraceful fight.

“….Hehe..”

“……Uhm…”

She gazed down at Alice, smiling as if enamored by getting close enough to her face, watching the child fall into sleep, her face reflected such joy.

If it weren’t for the traces of sorrow at the corners of her eyes, it would have truly been a beautiful, tender moment filled with sadness.

However, the boundless potential contained in that scene shone brightly amidst the darkness, like a streetlight illuminating the night.

Remi Akaia, sharing warmth, rubbed her cheeks against mine or nestled her head against my slender neck, slowly inhaling.

With her eyes,

with her skin,

with her nose,

with her ears.

She confirmed that this sweet moment with her living sister was no dream.

And the hand she slipped between her armpits gradually…

Thwack!

‘Take your hand off.’

‘…….’

‘Take it off.’

‘…Hiiing.’

That sorrowful expression had vanished, and I began to wonder if she might truly be bipolar.

If it weren’t for her eyes brimming with moisture, I might genuinely question whether she was the same person who just a moment ago had lamented hopelessly.

She smiled and spoke.

Surely, the loss of childhood memories is heartbreaking and feels like a ripping pain, but…

When I heard that I had vanished from Aris’s mind, I wished to bite my tongue and perish.

Yet…

Memories can crumble but can also be rebuilt.

Rather, I wished that Aris wouldn’t regain those dreadful memories.

Drip, drip.

Tears streamed down her already soaked face, creating new paths for the droplets while she radiantly smiled with genuine joy—I ultimately had to admit.

She is truly remarkable.

She is indeed Alice’s real sister.

Thwack!

‘Don’t touch my little sister’s butt.’

‘……..’

‘I’ll kill you.’

‘…..Hiiing.’

Well, she didn’t take after me at all in that regard.

Hiiing.



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