Saint's Prison - Chapter 48

I wouldn’t mind dying

Someone said that the never-ending conflicts on this earth are due to a lack of prayers to God.

―No, that’s not it.

Even if we were to crush hundreds, thousands of ants, we wouldn’t mourn them. We might not even notice.

Yes… to God, humans are like ants.

Thus, whether we quarrel or not, whether we live or die, it holds no meaning. It has no value.

It’s not a lack of prayers.

They just don’t reach Him.

As long as we are human, they never will.

Ah, that’s why you should seek higher ground.

For salvation can only be obtained once you reach it―

＊＊＊

While stroking Amal’s head, I was immersed in the afterglow of our actions. Her delicate and small body, yet surprisingly well-proportioned. Amal clung to me as if pressing that body against me. Her skin stuck to mine as if glued.

“…Andy-sama?”

“Mm? What is it?”

I tilted my head.

Seeing that, Amal narrowed her eyes as if to say she couldn’t help but love me.

“I am very happy.”

“…Is that so? That’s good to hear.”

“Yes. I never even imagined I could be this happy before… As long as you’re by my side, Andy-sama, I don’t need anything else. I could die at any moment now and it would be alright.”

“―You’re sounding like Futabatei Shimei.”

“Futabatei, Shimei… is that so?”

“Yeah. He was a literary master from my country. He famously translated the phrase ‘I am yours’ from a foreign text as ‘I wouldn’t mind dying’. It’s well-known as a counterpart to another master’s translation of ‘I love you’ as ‘The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?'”

“That’s very lovely…”

Amal’s cheeks relaxed in a dreamy smile. Girls like these kinds of stories, don’t they? It seems that’s the case across all times and cultures.

“So? Well, the Japanese don’t often express their feelings so directly, so I guess he translated it in a roundabout way.”

Amal seemed to ponder something with her eyes closed. Then, a few seconds later, when she opened them, she looked straight into my eyes with a serious expression that made me sit up straighter.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

“…I wouldn’t mind dying.”

I wanted to pat myself on the back for being able to respond so promptly. It’s more embarrassing than a straightforward confession. My face was getting hot.

“…With you, Andy-sama, even a world covered in filth can seem beautiful. So even at the last moment, I’m sure I will end with a smile.”

“Don’t keep saying such things with bad omens.”

Seeing my admonishing face, Amal smiled. Then she traced her fingertips up my chest.

“Hehe, sorry… But it’s true.”

Despite her modest tone, the gesture of her caressing my chest was as seductive as a courtesan’s. She had an allure that didn’t seem to belong to a girl in her mid-teens.

Her voice was gentle, yet her gesture of caressing my chest was sultry, like a courtesan. She had an allure that seemed too mature for a mid-teen girl.

I took her hand that was stroking me and intertwined our fingers.

“…Honestly, if you keep saying things like that, I won’t make Amal my last woman. If you die, I’ll completely forget about you and start dating and marry another woman. Is that what you want?”

Hearing my words, which were half-joking, Amal’s eyes widened, and she froze for a few seconds.

Then, she immediately sobbed, her shoulders shaking, and tears streaming. Sobbing, she clung to me.

“No, no! I don’t want that! Please don’t say such things, please, please… Ugh, hic, I’m, I’m only Andy-sama’s. Andy-sama, Andy-sama!”

“Ah, it’s obviously a joke, right? Don’t cry. I’m sorry. …But if you don’t want that, then you have to live a long life, alright?”

I patted her back to calm her down. I held her close and wiped her tears. She hugged me back tightly.

“I will. I will, so promise. Promise me you won’t go to any other woman… Only Amal!”

“Ah, alright, I got it. …It’s a promise.”

With a pale face, Amal looked up at me. Her tear-streaked eyelids were pitiful. I need to be mindful of my words because just a little remark can make her this emotionally unstable. I scolded myself.

A rusted voice was heard.

“Andy-sama… I’m sorry. But I can’t stop. It’s hopeless. I love you. Always, always. So… love me.”

No matter how much love we exchange, no matter how much love we vow, Amal is always afraid. In the midst of happiness, she clings to her knees, trembling, knowing that the end will inevitably come.

That’s why she wants to die while I’m with her. If she dies, she would become eternal in the heart of a girl.

Though I’m leaving her behind, I feel guilty for asking her to promise “only Amal!”. Yet, I can’t help but say it.

I thought to myself that I absolutely want to make Amal happy.

So she won’t be afraid anymore, so she won’t tremble, so she won’t cry.

Even if I’m clumsy, awkward, or pathetic, I’ll hold her hand until her nightmare ends.

No, even after she wakes up, we’ll be together forever, laughing.