Thank You For Being Trash

Chapter 86.1 - What Sincerity (2)

She thought their friendliness and kindness were strangling her throat… especially that. The kind of kindness that stirred and upset her mind, so she pushed it away, yelling no. Turning a blind eye to these feelings, she thought it was not towards her, but towards ‘Arne.’

She thought that was how she could live, so she struggled at the end of her life.

She said she wanted to kill someone. Was she worthy enough to kill others? Was she that special person?

Their kindness was sweet. It was so sweet that she could feel the bitter taste in her mouth, and it was so sweet that her tongue melted away.

She regretted the time she gave up.

The kindness she let go of before coming here—kindness and love—she was regretting those things. It would be better to easily let go of the lingering feelings for things that have ended… Yet she couldn't let go because she felt sorry for herself, who would eventually face destruction.

It seemed that she was barely breathing, submerged in a water tank to the top of her head, with only her nose and mouth out of the water.

Emotions flooded incessantly at their kindness. Water filled the tip of her nose and pushed into her mouth, making it impossible to breathe. She struggled with the tidal wave of emotions that always came in like waves.

Couldn't handle it, she eventually let her mind go though she still wanted to live.

Why did she want to live this far?

A life of unloved and never loved… it was too cruel to cut herself off. She even felt like saying she doesn't love herself. She always ridiculed herself that I was born in the wrong way. Nonetheless, if the end was really wrong, perhaps she really felt like she had lived the wrong life.

‘I'm not wrong…’

She wanted to survive no matter what. She didn't want to kill herself. When negative feelings overflowed, she thought of something else.

‘I don’t want love… I don't want to worry…’

‘I was so lonely that I wasn’t me. No one recognized me.’

She had days like that.

Those hard days of fighting with herself.

* * *

The person who despised her whispers love. That person declared that if she wanted death, they were willing to give it, too.

Why…

Why? This was a deception.

How did she come to know love? How did she come to know warmth? Now that she knew that meeting was not that difficult, the end of this story was destruction.

Why was she so late…

She wanted to die.

She didn’t want to live. The regrets of the past made her want to die. Every time the kindness piled up, she wanted to die. She wanted to die and didn't know what to do. Because of this kindness, she was overwhelmed and let go of herself.

Stop…

Stop, stop… please stop.

‘I'm sorry I couldn't protect you.'

‘I hope you don’t die. I hope you don't give up on life.'

It was painful, she was suffocating. She was so suffocated that she didn't want to live anymore. It was too much. A shining starlight… the sparkle she was looking for and hoping for. The lives she had endured and wanted.

Now, everyone wanted to stop.

The hand holding the teapot trembled. The lid fell to the floor, and shattered fragments scattered around. She picked up the broken pieces as if possessed. She held the fragment as if it was a lifeline for her.

She had lived a wrong life.

It was time to end that life.

To alleviate her own pain and the pain of others… she shouldn't use other people's feelings. She had to accept and endure.

‘If I accept it? I can't stand it, so what about me? How should I live?'

Her thought snapped.

Then, she should die… now.

She gripped the fragment tightly. The shards of glass pierced her tender flesh. There was pain and the sharp smell of blood as the pain in her hand that was sliced was vivid. Her heart thumped, and urged herself to bleed once more.

t whispered that she would not die from this.

The moment she faced her death, at that moment, he reached her.

‘I guess I am a selfish person. Even in this situation, it bothers me that the first name you call me is not mine, but a different name.'

He reached her at the moment she was wandering in an achromatic and dark place where she couldn't see any future. His crude and selfish words were engraved more deeply in her heart than any words of comfort.

Even though he knew that his selfish appearance was correct for her, he honestly spat out his feelings because his image of living someone else's life somehow resembled hers… because he lived a life similar to her somewhere.

Perhaps, that was why.

She fell in love with someone she shouldn't have. She harbored emotions she shouldn't have. She had feelings that she couldn't even breathe out anyway.

She couldn’t reach it.

She couldn’t tell it. It was the feeling of dying somewhere in that abyss.

It was because she thought that if she admitted that she loved him, she would collapse. Since she had already collapsed once, she couldn't handle the aftermath. She erased that brilliant moment that was shining and sparkling.

And that was why she wanted to die and even cut her hand.

To erase everything.

She erased the most beautiful moment of her life like that… she killed that feeling. Instead, she accepted the recognition moment of love differently, which was radiant with joy. She felt a sense of belonging for a long time, but now it was like she had become Arne.

‘…I was Arne.’

The joy she felt at that time was what she felt when she established her subjectivity. The one she loved was Rewan, and she remembered a moment that she couldn't remember well, like she was determined.

When she met Rewan after a long time, with that intense heartbeat, when she met Rewan at that time, she wanted to comfort him.

She thought that it couldn't be love.

Nevertheless, the feelings she felt for Rewan were sympathy, not love.

The intense guilt she felt when the person who was kind to her was ruined. She thought the intense sympathy she felt for him was love, and that was the feeling she would feel even if she went to the ruined kingdom of Sorano.

A violent heartbeat, and a disturbed mind. All of them were feelings that were nothing more than sympathy for someone who would live in ruins.

Would the emotions that have already come to an end once collapse?

She was afraid that it would overflow and make her want to die. Even the slightest quiver of emotion kept her alert. She was wary of him, who stirred her heart, disturbed her mind, and fretted her with tension and impatience.

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