TFOA Chapter 35

"Kehuk…… Cough……."

Benjamin barely managed to poke his head above the surface in the rapidly flowing current.

He spat out the muddy water he had unintentionally swallowed.

Even though the water was deep, his whole body ached as if he'd been beaten from the shock of falling into the river.

Gilbert and Niksi remained unconscious the whole time.

His left shoulder, where he was carrying Gilbert, also hurt as if it might come off, but the bigger problem was Niksi's drooping arm that he was clutching in his right hand.

Every joint in his hand screamed at him to let go immediately, but he couldn't do that.

He gritted his teeth and looked for something to grab onto.

He barely managed to grab a tree root and reach the muddy bank. He crawled and barely made it to shore.

The steep cliffs of the valley.

Between the blunt terrain, there were caves and such that were suitable for taking shelter from the rain.

He staggered toward one of them, carrying Gilbert and Niksi.

The inside of the cave was tight enough that three people could barely fit.

Benjamin set Gilbert down against the cave wall and made Niksi lean against the wall. Then he grabbed the wall and threw up water.

"Ugh, uugh……."

His stomach and lungs, which were full of water, felt like they might burst.

He had no idea what state of mind had gotten him this far.

Jumping off the cliff had been half a gamble too.

If they had stayed and faced off with that man, they would have all been torn to shreds by the gun he was holding.

'Even so…….'

Only after he had emptied out even the stomach acid from his empty stomach could he stop convulsing.

Only then did the area around his arm that had been grazed by the bullet begin to throb sharply.

His hand that had gripped the gun, his torso that had taken almost a direct hit when he jumped into the water to prevent Gilbert and Niksi's heads from being shaken about. There wasn't a single uninjured spot on his body.

He first checked whether the two of them were breathing.

Perhaps it was fortunate that they had fainted instead of struggling. Both of them were still breathing.

Gilbert had a wound about two finger-widths long on his head.

It wasn't deep, but it wouldn't be good to leave it alone. Especially since they were already soaked from the rain and water, making it difficult to stop the bleeding.

Benjamin tore off a sleeve from his shirt, which was difficult to tear because it was wet.

After wringing out the water, he shook it out. He used it to tightly wrap Gilbert's head.

Niksi was still unconscious, whether she had fainted when they jumped or not.

Fortunately, she didn't appear to have any bumps or injuries.

Benjamin let out a deep breath.

He had been flailing around desperately to avoid drowning, so he had no idea how far downstream they had drifted.

The rain was monsoon rain, so there was no knowing when it would stop.

Though it was summer, his soaked body was gradually growing cold.

It would have been nice if there had been something to make a fire with, but regrettably, there was no such fortune. He searched his pockets to see if there was anything useful.

Rattle. There was only the medicine bottle that his good neighbor had given him.

'Should I be thankful that I have at least this?'

He opened the medicine bottle.

Inside were the sleeping pills, painkillers, and various other colorful pills she had told him about.

He picked up a white pill that seemed to be a painkiller.

After wavering for a moment about whether to take it or not, he put it back. He could still bear it for now.

His worn-out body leaned against the wall.

Below, the dark, swollen river water was slowly rising, as if it might reach where they were.

'One mountain after another.'

He barely fought off the drowsiness that was washing over him as he looked at the distant mountains in the rain.

"……Huh…… Mr. Benjamin?"

A hoarse, cracked voice.

Gilbert opened his eyes, pressing his throbbing head.

He didn't seem to have the strength to get up yet, as Gilbert made groaning sounds while clenching and unclenching his hands.

"How did…… this…… happen."

Gilbert felt around his head, which had been given first aid.

He didn't know when he had fainted.

His last memory was grabbing his father's arm to stop him from pointing the gun at Niksi, and then everything went black.

"Where is……?"

"I don't know either."

Both of them, including himself, all looked like drowned rats.

Moreover, Niksi was leaning against the wall with her eyes closed, either having lost consciousness or fainted.

A small cave to escape the rain.

Judging by the position of the river water, they were quite far from where the cabin had been.

'Did we fall from the cliff?'

He could roughly guess the situation.

Gilbert bit his lips tightly.

"……Why did you save me?"

"You're asking so many questions, so you don't seem like you're dying right away."

The painter took out a white pill from the medicine bottle and threw it to Gilbert. He caught it reflexively.

"You hurt your head, so you'll be dizzy for a while. Take it."

"This is…"

"Painkiller."

Usually when someone takes a strong blow to the head, normal thinking becomes impossible for a while. Moreover, it had been split open a bit. Normally he should rest properly, but in this situation, he couldn't tell him to rest properly. If he did that, they might really die.

So right now, they had no choice but to try to hold out with medicine.

"We need to move when this one wakes up. It'll be a problem if you're being weak until then."

"......"

Gilbert quietly looked down at his gruff kindness in the palm of his hand.

The painter had been shaking continuously since a while ago.

His palm was red and heated up, as if burned, and there were scratches on his forearm as if grazed by a bullet. Moreover, his shirt was a bloody mess from the blood that had gotten on his clothes when he carried them here.

It wasn't even funny. He looked like he should be the one taking this, given his condition.

"I don't need it."

"……."

"You take it instead. You're the one whose hand is trembling terribly right now, you know? Your arm is bleeding. That bastard got you, didn't he? Damn it. Why you, why did you have to give this to me…"

"Shut up. Stop talking nonsense and take it."

"Hah… Really."

The throbbing headache every time he spoke, the humiliation of being reduced to this state by that man. The self-loathing directed at himself. The crushed pride from having his bottom exposed to others—the bottom he never wanted others to see.

Such terrible things were strung together, making his mood murky.

The outsider of the village. The ill-tempered painter. A face that seemed to carry all the world's melancholy.

Gilbert Grace had disliked Benjamin Richter from the moment he first met him.

"You…"

"……."

"When you first appeared in this village. I tended to your wounds and brought you food. Do you think that was kindness?"

"……."

"No. That day, I tried to kill you."

That day when rain was pouring down just like now.

The day Gilbert Grace met the enemy soldier who had crawled into Auvers with serious injuries.

That day, Gilbert had gone into the forest to commit suicide.

He had always thought about it.

After pushing Mark Richter off the cliff and running away from that spot.

When he was almost caught by the police and was saved by Jeremiah Grace.

Even when the lie he told to get out of the situation became real and he became his son, playing the role of the eldest son of the Grace family.

Even when everyone in the family except him died in the bombing.

Back then. If I had killed Mark Richter quickly, Mother wouldn't have died.

If he had killed that man faster, the good Mr. Grace wouldn't have had to save him, and the family wouldn't have had to go on a family outing for someone like him who had never seen a violet field.

If he had killed that monster sooner, no one would have died.

If he had killed him, killed him. Killed him!

'That's how you become a monster.'

Suddenly, Gilbert was disgusted with himself.

He who hated that man more than anyone, yet resembled him more than anyone.

Yes, perhaps what that detestable man said wasn't entirely wrong.

He had spent his whole life trying to become someone different from that man, but the people he wanted to show that to were already all dead. All that was left was himself, bound together by evil and hatred.

Yes, it had all been meaningless.

The unchangeable blood, a person's nature, doesn't change.

Then, wouldn't it be better to die?

When he was about to put the hunter's gun in his mouth and pull the trigger, he heard the sound of something collapsing in the bushes.

Then came the thick smell of blood.

Gilbert pushed through the bushes while holding the gun.

On a day when the rain was pouring down so hard it blocked his vision.

There lay a man wearing an enemy uniform.

A face that was a mess, as if he had pushed through the bushes with an injured body. An abdomen stained red, with blood gushing out every time he breathed. Fingers grotesquely twisted.

Like a beast caught in a trap, just waiting to die. The man was dying like that.

'Even at a time like this, such hunter's son-like thoughts.'

He laughed self-deprecatingly.

Gilbert raised the gun in his hand.

―Click.

The loading sound rang out. While being drenched by the terrible downpour, he bit down hard on his teeth.

'You are Gilbert Grace.'

"It's all because of you. Because of you. If only you hadn't existed. If only you…"

Why did you pass down the name Grace to me? Why did you die like that?

If I could have died in your place, I would have died happily a thousand times.

But the reason he hadn't been able to die following him until now was because of the single name Gilbert Grace that he had given him.

The fence called family that they had left behind. The home. The warmth was so warm it was resentful.

'Welcome to the family, Gilbert!'

'You can comfortably call me Mother.'

'Big brother. I, this… a gift…'

That day. Because he had vowed to protect this house. Because he couldn't leave what they had left behind.

He had barely survived by begging like a dog waiting in an empty house for owners who would never return.

His finger on the trigger bent with anger.

Rainwater flowed down his distorted eyes.

At the same time, he regretted not killing that beast sooner.

The limping hunter who bore the name of father.

The hateful man who had driven his dying mother to death by neglecting her, who attacked people instead of beasts, and who left him to dispose of the bodies.

"If only you hadn't existed."

'You are Gilbert Grace.'

No. His real name was Gilbert Richter. No matter how much he tried to deny it, that didn't change.

He wanted to tear his father apart. He wanted to chase the Germans who killed his family to the depths of hell and kill them.

No. Actually…

"If only I hadn't existed."

If I hadn't existed, the family wouldn't have died.

Tears welled up in his eyes.

If only I hadn't existed, that would have been enough. He knew it. He had tried hard to deny it, but all of this had happened because of him.

If I hadn't said I was hungry, Mother wouldn't have died, and if I hadn't become part of the Grace family, they would still be living happily.

"It's because of me. If only I hadn't existed, hic, if only I, sob, if only I... if only I..."

Then. Thud, the gun barrel he was gripping wavered.

The unconscious German soldier's head had bumped against his gun barrel. As if asking him to kill him by pushing his head forward.

Only then did he come to his senses.

"……."

"……."

In the pouring rain. His fingertips growing cold.

Gilbert looked at the man, unable to think about what to do with the flowing tears.

"…Don't. Don't die."

"……."

"You're going to drive all the remaining people into hell and then just die?"

"……"

"Only you get to die so comfortably? After putting other people through such dog-like suffering, you're going to take such an easy way out? You..."

And he. Didn't have that right.

Thud, the gun fell from his hands. Gilbert clenched his fists.

Instead of putting bullets into himself or the German soldier, he chose to throw away the gun.

Gilbert put the German soldier's arm over his shoulder and lifted him up.

"Live with regret for the rest of your life. For the rest of your life. Repenting for the rest of your life. Suffering for the rest of your life. Live a life that will never be forgiven for the rest of your life."

With each heavy step, his resentment burst out.

He was cursing the German soldier, but he didn't know why he was the one in pain.

Hot tears flowed out with each word he squeezed out.

He left the flowing tears as they were, and by the time the entrance to the forest came into view, he was almost wailing.

"That day, I tried to kill you."

"……."

"But why did I save you? I didn't save you, I left you in hell. To receive accusations for killing others for the rest of your life. Like that, like that… I hoped you would live in agony."

Benjamin looked at his tear-filled eyes.

Despite all his cursing, he had a terribly agonized expression.

He quietly opened his mouth.

"I knew."

"...What?"

Gilbert's hand, which had been tightly gripping the ground, went limp. A suffocating silence fell between them.

"Since when..."

"From the beginning. Back then… I was awake."

Pushing his head against the gun barrel had been intentional.

He had hoped that bullet would please pierce through his head, that someone, anyone, would kill him. Though it failed.

He and Gilbert met eyes in the air. Benjamin was the first to look away.

Gilbert stared blankly at his side profile, then looked at the medicine in his palm again.

"Ha...haha, from the beginning, you say? Ha...haha."

"……."

"You knew, and yet. Why, why."

"You…"

Benjamin paused for a beat, then said quietly.

"You acted like you wanted me not to know."

Gilbert always smiled good-naturedly. The kind village head even cared about someone as rough around the edges as him.

For about a year after coming to the village, he could see the hatred toward him hidden behind that smiling face. It was a bigger lump, more so than anyone else in the village had.

That was fine.

What wasn't fine, rather, was when that intention gradually began to change, taking on human warmth.

Whether it was affection born of dislike, the malice hidden behind goodwill was gradually diluted by time.

Then one day, he would unconsciously receive unconscious goodwill that came from his good nature.

When Gilbert noticed he had done that, his face would darken, and when he didn't notice, Benjamin would leave the situation first.

"…Then you also knew that I… that I hated you? From the beginning?"

"When you don't smile, I can see everything you're thinking."

He laughed helplessly.

So it showed that much? This good-natured smile was something he had worked desperately hard to master.

'When I don't smile, everything I'm thinking shows…….'

Then he suddenly remembered. What Jeremiah Grace had said.

'You have a face asking why you lied to the police, Gilbert. It was written all over your expression.'

Father's hearty laughter as if he knew everything. At the same time,

'I don't care what you did before, how you lived, even if what the police said is true.'

Jeremiah Grace, who lied to the police saying he was his son and wrapped him in protection.

He who couldn't tell him until the end that he was actually the hunter's son and had buried bodies.

'Just remember this one thing. You are Gilbert Grace.'

'You knew.'

It was devastating.

You knew. That day, you brought him knowing that he was the beast who killed his biological father.

You knew and still accepted him.

All his life, wanting to be like him, not wanting to become that person, practicing that foolish smile, what his father had said to him. That 'you are Gilbert Grace.'

Those words were recognition for him. Recognition that 'it didn't matter who you were and that you were simply you.'

"…Coward."

If he had been struggling so hard to hide himself, and they already knew his true self. If they could act as if nothing had happened, then what was he supposed to do?

"You're really a coward…"

Gilbert put his hand on his head and cried silently. He did so for a long time.

Gilbert, who had taken the medicine, lay back down. It hadn't been long since he took it, but the pain that had been ringing in his head subsided.

He stared blankly outside the cave.

"Don't you hate me?"

Gilbert muttered.

"I've been pretending to be a good person and deceiving you all this time. Aren't you disgusted? If you had just stayed put, you wouldn't have gotten involved in this shitty situation. Didn't you want to just leave me alone?"

He muttered blankly.

In his drowsy unconsciousness, the pouring question marks seemed to be asking Benjamin, and also seemed to be asking someone who was no longer there.

Gilbert had a knot that would never be untied.

"Won't you regret saving me?"

The doubt that the people he loved might resent him. The self-loathing that they might regret dying because of him.

"Not particularly."

"Why?"

"You're especially persistent today. If you're grateful, just say thank you."

Gilbert chuckled at Benjamin's mild irritation.

Maybe he had hoped his worries would be resolved through someone else's mouth.

No. He had hoped. Since everything had been unexpectedly exposed in front of this person.

'Right. That worry wouldn't be solved so easily. This is like homework I'll carry for the rest of my life until I die.'

Gilbert smiled silently.

"I still hate you."

"…I know."

"Huh? That response was half a beat slow just now. Are you hurt?"

"Shut up."

Gilbert curled up his body.

The sound of raindrops falling was refreshing. Usually it was so terrible, but the human heart really is fickle.

"So Benjamin. I won't ask you to forgive me for deliberately saving you that day."

"…Forgiveness and all that, you didn't do anything wrong to me in the first place."

"Don't say it so easily…"

You fool. If you say there's no wrongdoing, it makes me want to feel at ease.

Gilbert curled up the corners of his mouth.

'Father. What do you think? Don't you hate me?'

'I can't forgive myself at all.'

"This."

Thud. Benjamin placed something in front of Gilbert.

"It came from your pocket. Take it."

It was paper that had become like a lump from being soaked in water.

"Ah."

Though he couldn't read, he could instantly tell what it was.

It was the fortune paper he had drawn.

<You will be forgiven for everything.>

He bit his lips.

Words good for any occasion. Words that made good excuses for brushing things off.

"…Thank you."

Probably. The words he had wanted to hear most.

Gilbert felt drowsiness washing over him and closed his eyes.

'3, 2, 1. Accurate.'

Benjamin looked at Gilbert, who had fallen asleep at the exact time he had measured.

Just moments ago he had been groaning like a sick chicken, but now he was sleeping peacefully with a much more comfortable expression.

It was good that he was comfortable, but he was slightly worried whether he might fall asleep forever like this.

Benjamin breathed a sigh of relief only after confirming that the blood flowing from his head had hardened.

"Is it over?"

Cough. Niksi asked in a hoarse voice.

He blinked in surprise, not knowing she had been awake.

"I've been awake since Gilbert was sniffling earlier. I wanted to butt in, but it didn't seem like that kind of atmosphere. And…"

Niksi rubbed her goose-bumped arms and shivered.

"As you can see, my physical condition isn't good. I've become like a rain-soaked chick. Ah. For your information… cough, you know chicks die if they get rained on, right?"

"Are you saying you're about to die?"

"Your words are harsh for once…"

She flinched and shrank at the thunder rumbling in the distance.

Niksi, who had buried herself in the deepest part of the small cave, cupped her hands and blew warm breath on them.

Looking at her now, her face was red.

He raised his hand and pressed her forehead.

"You have a fever."

"Yeah. My stomach's been feeling bad since earlier too. I feel like I'm going to throw up."

"Since when?"

"Since the thunder started."

She made a sulky face as if complaining.

Even though she spoke casually, her pale white lips, drained of color, indicated this was by no means a trivial situation.

Her head was hot like a fireball, but her body was cold. It was a situation where she could do neither this nor that.

"Painter. Do you have anything to start a fire with?"

"If I had it, I would have already lit it."

"Wait…… I have a lighter."

Niksi took a lighter from her pocket. Sadly, it had taken on a lot of water and only sputtered without lighting.

Niksi cursed quietly and threw it on the ground.

"At least take this."

Benjamin muttered and shook Niksi, who was closing her eyes. Falling asleep in a hypothermic state was perfect for dying.

He took out fever medicine from the medicine bottle and held it to her chin.

Niksi looked at it and laughed giggle as if something had occurred to her.

"Painter, remember? The day you and I got rained on at the bridge."

'There was… such a time.'

Benjamin recalled the dim memory of himself taking an overdose of sleeping pills and getting rained on to cool his body's heat.

She had come to hold a funeral for a dead crayfish and sat her butt down next to him, not leaving for quite a while.

"That time you had a fever and I cooled you down. This time it's the opposite."

"I don't remember that."

Even then, she who had been startled by the thunder sound was about to fall into the ditch water, so he had reflexively grabbed her.