Forgotten Fields - Chapter 243




The moment he realized that fact, a heavy pressure, as if he had swallowed a lump of iron, weighed down on his chest cavity.

With the sensation that the ground beneath his feet was helplessly sinking away, he slumped onto the floor and leaned his back against the bed. Even as his mind went blank, his gaze remained fixed on her diary.

[You seem to have lost a lot of weight in the last few months. I'm sure you're buried in work again without getting proper rest.

You interfered so much with my health, so why don't you take care of yourself?

Even though I know I have no right to do so, I wanted to run to you and unleash a torrent of nagging. I wondered what your reaction would be.]

A faint irritation and anger could be glimpsed in the tightly pressed letters. However, the sentence that followed was much calmer and more organized.

[Sometimes I imagine approaching you and striking up a conversation as if nothing is wrong.

Have you been doing well?

Are you hurt anywhere?

Isn't the work tough?

Why is such a simple thing so difficult for me?

I must be broken somewhere.]

With that self-deprecating sentence as the last, a blank space followed, as if the diary had been discontinued for the time being.

Her record continued from the time he left for another expedition.

[Autumn has finally begun.

At this time of year, it is very windy in Kalmor.

Do you know? When the wind blows across the fields, I can smell the soft scent that used to waft from your hair.

Because of that, no matter how painful and sad it is, I cannot hate this land.]

He read the sentence over and over again with wide, distant eyes.

After that, monotonous records of daily life followed.

Although stories about Khan still took up a large portion, there were also brief records of impressions on books read in the library and conversations with the maids.

Even though the content wasn't particularly special, he persistently read through every single letter. For all of it was what she had left for him.

[Today, I ran across the fields with Khan. Across the endlessly stretching grasslands, continuously, continuously.

Even though my heart was pounding as if it were going to burst, strangely, it didn't feel painful. For the first time in my life, I felt happy to be alive.

Perhaps God sent me a gift. Maybe He felt that there should be at least one brilliant moment in my life.

I'm glad Khan came to me.

On the day of my last breath, I will surely remember this moment. That heaven-like joy existed in my life, too.]

He could not leave that page for a while. The letters lined up on the paper seemed to become long, sharp awls piercing his retina.

After standing frozen for a long time, he finally turned the page with trembling hands. A blank page followed.

Just as the thought crossed his mind that she might no longer need to write a diary because of that wolf, a page torn in half was revealed.

He carefully unfolded the sheet of paper that looked as if it had been torn by hand.

On the half-page remaining, black lines that looked as if they had been scribbled haphazardly and messily, smudged ink stains were running rampant. As he turned the page, letters so severely distorted that they were illegible came into view.

[I'm sorry, Barcas. I'm really sorry. Please forgive me. No, never forgive me. Please, just don't die. I'd rather I just die. I want to die right now. Please, I wish someone would just kill me. The truth is, I didn't even want to be born. I'm sorry for being born. I'm sorry for being greedy for you.]

Even though the date was not recorded, he could immediately tell when it was written.

He turned to the next page, trembling convulsively from the sensation of his stomach being torn apart. The messy, jumbled writing continued for quite a while afterward, but it was so severely smudged that he could not possibly read it.

He stared at the black stains, which looked like bloodstains, for a long time, then turned the pages again and again until a pure white sheet of paper was revealed.

Finally, a clearly organized new phrase was revealed.

[The sight of you collapsing while spitting up blood won't leave my mind.

Every night, I dream of hugging you as you grow cold and cold, and screaming.

If Khan hadn't been by my side watching over me, I would surely have done something foolish again.]

He stared at that sentence for a while as if nailed to it, then shifted his gaze to the next phrase.

[It might be a shameless thought, but I just want to get out of this pain.

I don't want to be in pain anymore.

I don't want to suffer.

So, I pray every day.

I wish this love would die.

I will love you only until today, and may this love die tomorrow.]

He felt his heart sink to the floor and froze.

The hand holding the diary trembled so violently that he could not control it with his own will. His gaze was fixed on the words left at the very bottom of the page.

[But when dawn breaks, I will surely think of you again.]

His vision, which had been blurring into white, began to ripple dizzyingly.

Cold sweat trickled down his face and poured onto the diary. He hurriedly wiped it away, but the droplets continued to flow down endlessly.

He raised his hand and felt his face. A lukewarm liquid was wetting his cheek and neck. He wiped it away blankly, then suddenly realized that a stream of liquid was starting from the corner of his eye and stopped moving.

Tears fell plop, plop, and pooled heavily in his palm. As he stared blankly down at them, his wavering vision began to gradually collapse.

He watched as his limbs gradually crumbled away, then raised his head and looked around the room where darkness was beginning to descend.

The hallucination that began in his body had, before he knew it, spread to the entire space surrounding him.

The outlines of the bedroom interior, which had been slowly melting away, lost their form and sank into deep darkness.

Eventually, he was left alone in pitch-black darkness where nothing existed.

From the other side of that empty world, the sound of something howling was heard. It was the sound that had been echoing repeatedly in his head for the past few months. That desperate scream turned every nerve of his.

At that moment, a tremendous pressure crushed his entire body. Gasping for breath, he braced himself on the floor with both hands. It felt as if his flesh was being chewed up alive by something massive.

A fierce, agonizing pain struck all at once, as if the bones and flesh of his entire body were being crushed into tiny pieces and his internal organs were being torn apart.

He scraped the floor until his fingernails broke.

His vision was stained with blood from the sensation of thousands of fragments scraping the inside of his skull. It felt as if all the pain he had suppressed for so long had burst out like a tidal wave.

A beastly sob escaped from between his parted lips. With the realization that the sound bore a striking resemblance to the desperate screams echoing in his head, he soon collapsed without a trace.

Everything built up like an illusion crumbles.

All that remains for him now is endless pain that will continue indefinitely...

It was nothing but pain.

***

As dawn broke, it started to rain.

Barcas, who had been lost in thought for a while, slowly raised his head as if drawn by the sound of the rain.

Before anyone realized it, a soothing scented candle was emitting thick smoke next to the bed, as if a healer had visited before anyone realized it.

He quietly gazed at the stream of smoke melting white into the darkness, then soon lowered his eyes back to his diary.

After wandering around the room like a ghost and searching through her belongings, he was able to find one more record she had left behind.

The newly acquired diary was filled with anger, sadness, and despair toward him.

[You killed our child.

Even though I begged so much, you didn't even pretend to listen. I can't forgive you. I will never forgive you, not even if I die.

This time, I'm going to kill my love for you. I'm going to kill it no matter what.

I'm going to tear it to shreds and leave no trace. I will definitely do that.]

Even after that, words of resentment directed at him continued. Occasionally, sentences of intense contempt and self-mockery directed at him were interspersed.

He read those words over and over again, feeling as if he were harming himself. Her pain. Her resentment. Her despair. He swallowed it all without leaving a trace.


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