Chapter 82: Chapter 82

Boom!

The sky roared again. Shihuang stretched out a hand.

“I will…”

He would never be able to see Myohan. He would never be able to look into those clear eyes, never hug that small body, never kiss those soft lips, never caress his soft hair.

The god looked at him coldly.

“You will do what?”

He had so many things to say.

We will meet again. Next time, I will protect you. I will.

“What has already been done can’t be undone.”

But the god was merciless. The generosity he had shown Shihuang had completely disappeared.

“You don’t have any power to protect him.”

“O Shin, I….”

“If I give this child to you,”

Myohan opened his eyes a little in his hand. His faint gaze passed the subjects and went to Shihuang. The god’s held him with his hand.

“Will you save him?”

Shihuang couldn’t say he would. Myohan’s lifeline had ended a long time ago. He could die the second he got out of the god’s sight.

‘What if I take him? If I take him away from O Shin’s hand now, would I be able to save him?’

But the god didn’t wait for an answer. He turned his back on him. His cold voice came through the rain.

“Jin time is ending.”

Shihuang eventually fell. He knelt down on damp soil. Rain and tears mixed and ran down his cheeks. He breathed hard. He crouched to beg with clenched fists. The god still wouldn’t look away.

“If I can’t save him in this life, I will save him in the next life.”

That was his only chance at the moment. He knew if he let Myohan go, he would spend eternity regretting it.

“If I can’t save him the next life, then in the next life.”

Making one mistake was enough. Doing what couldn’t be undone and agonizing about it once was enough.

“I don’t care if I never become a man.”

Giving up without even trying once was enough.

“Please, give me a chance.”

His eyesight became fuzzy. The god was right, his time was ending. He wouldn’t be able to hold Myohan in his arms after he returned to his original form. He wasn’t sure he would be able to see him in the next Jin Time.

“A chance…” The god spoke. He turned slowly. He approached Shihuang, walking on the ground wet with rain. “So you again say what you would regret again and again.”

The god leaned down and handed the cat to him. He took him with shaking hands and looked up, his face now dirty and soaked by the rain. The god still looked clean, despite the rain. His yellow eyes held sorrow.

“In the next life, he won’t remember you.”

Myohan was so weak in his cat form. He was so small and fragile. Shihuang had never hated rain so much. He put him in his arms so that the rain wouldn’t get to him. The god spoke a little softly.

“Won’t you regret your choice?”

“With you,” Shihuang looked down to Myohan. He was still warm. He kissed him and muttered sadly. “With you, my cat, I have the entire world.”

The god just watched. The fire of the boy’s life was weak. It had to be his power that was making that dying candle still burn. Shihuang kept talking.

“I will never give you up.” Again, he promised, “I will never forget you.”

Myohan opened his eyes slowly. His clear eyes looked up at Shihuang. The god looked away and covered his face with his veil.

“Even if you can’t remember me…”

Myohan couldn’t say anything. He didn’t seem to notice he was in Shihuang’s arms. And as life finally left him, Shihuang leaned down, putting his forehead on the ground. Tears kept running down from his eyes. The rain from the sky got even heavier.

“Why…” The god muttered. His voice was quiet in the rain, but Shihuang could hear him clearly. “…am I the villain?”

‘Since when did it go wrong? Since when? No, even if it was wrong from the beginning, I can start again.’

He looked down, still clinging onto that thin strand of hope. The god showed him mercy for the last time.

“I will give you a chance.”

Shihuang looked up slowly. He couldn’t see the god’s face, as it was covered. He went on.

“If you wait for countless years and find the cat,” He was ready to do it repeatedly, as many times as it would require, again, again, and again. “If the cat sees those who tormented him be punished.”

The dragon was immortal. The god was saying he would regret his promise, but he didn’t care if he came to regret it, “And if he remembers you.”

At the moment, Myohan was cold in his arms. The thin lifeline that the god had managed to lengthen till then had finally come to its end.

“Then I will give you another chance.”

The god was calm. He wasn’t enraged as before, but he wasn’t merciful either.

He spoke dryly. He wouldn’t look at Shihuang.

“You won’t be able to say anything to him.”

The rain started to grow weaker. It still kept falling, but not as fiercely as before.

“You will have to stay at his side, as an onlooker.”

Again, he would have to watch without doing anything. That was what the god was saying. Just watch him from afar and do nothing.

“Would it be fine?”

“I will,” He had no time to hesitate. His dark eyes wavered. He gritted his teeth as he held the cat tightly. “To get him back. I will.”

Perhaps he was being selfish. Perhaps he was excluding Myohan’s own opinion and thinking of his own wishes only.

Still, he couldn’t let go. What he had gotten from him, what he had felt because of him, he had to show them to him and be forgiven.

“I see.”

He was punishing himself, for seeing everything and not doing anything. The god smiled. It wasn’t right for the situation, but Shihuang didn’t bother to point it out.

“I guess…”

His voice scattered in the air and vanished. It wept sorrowfully in the rain.

“We are both helplessly selfish.”

***

After Shihuang finished telling his story, Myohan just blinked. The hand that combed back his damp hair, the lips that kissed him softly, the black eyes that looked at him, they were all so unrealistic.

His cat was then near the bed. It sat down and looked at them.

“So,” His throat was still dry after a long sleep. Shihuang gave him a cup of water. He took a sip and asked, looking at the cat. “How many times have you come to me?”

Shihuang hugged him. He enjoyed the warmth and placed his chin on his head.

“Countless times.”

He had gotten countless chances and countless partings. He followed Myohan’s trace, found him, was grateful that he was alive, but then he had to feel the world crumbling down.

“Two hours a day, one month a year, one year out of twelve years.”

He could talk to Myohan only at limited times. He approached him when he was old enough to understand what he was saying and he could be in his human form. But Myohan could never remember him.

‘What kind of animal are you?’

Myohan had actually known. On the day he saved Miho from that soccer ball, he went back to his classroom after he realized it was lunchtime.

‘You don’t smell like a human.’

Standing at the door, he had heard everything. He just thought of it as another nonsense from Sinsul, but when Chandeul said it again, “When you and the others are all alive.”

He realized. It just naturally came to his mind. He had never heard of it, but he could know.

He sounded so desperate as he asked him to find the dragon, and it made him sure. His deadline of February of the next year was the last month of the year in the lunar Calendar, the last month of the Dragon Year.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

Myohan closed his eyes and listened to him. At the moment he could feel the form of emotion he felt every time he saw him. He also could see why he felt so responsible for the twelve for no apparent reason. He left Shihuang’s view slowly and turned.