Comics, daily stories

Actually, the French food John brought was pretty average. The foie gras wasn't as good as the chicken and duck offal he stir-fried, and the steak wasn't as good as my mom's beef and potato stew.

I have a feeling that John has been ripped off. Many of the French chefs he hired with a lot of money are just swindlers. If I have the chance next time, I should make him fire them all.

She also told him to stop calling her "King" so she could stop. She was just an ordinary Japanese high school student, but she really liked the title "Eri-King". She also wanted to thank him for taking care of her these past few days, otherwise she might have gone hungry, since she hadn't brought any money with her.

If there's a chance next time.

Taking a deep breath, Eriri Sawamura accelerated again.

A crack appeared on her cheek.

Numbly traversing the world, silently following the two people, Eriri Sawamura swept across most of the world, landing at their final resting place.

It wasn't so much a fall as a crash; she crashed into the streets of Yakutsk, tumbled a few times, then braced herself to her feet. Without pausing, she continued to follow the faint trail, gliding across the sky in the blink of an eye.

She flickered in the air, her face cracked, as she headed north.

The houses disappeared from view, and the greenery vanished as snowflakes began to drift in the sky.

Eriri Sawamura followed the line and her body sank down a little.

She knew she had reached her limit and was now just waiting for the moment to shatter.

The sword inside his body was riddled with cracks, just like he was now.

It still wasn't enough. Yukino was too strong, she could live too long. I wasn't as good as them. After three months of following her, I was exhausted.

Yes, that's right. I thought of this when I left home. They've always been better than me since they were kids, and they're still better than me now. I can't catch up at all.

Eriri Sawamura's vision blurred as she remembered that her mother was making her favorite beef and potato stew when she left home.

Mom, I really tried my best, it's nothing to be ashamed of.

She relaxed her body, preparing to fall.

At the edge of the sky, darkness fell, and the aurora borealis and stars twinkled there.

Eriri Sawamura stared wide-eyed at that direction, her expression turning terrified.

She lit the light again and, with her last bit of strength, rushed towards that direction.

She rushed into the darkness, and the two men's presence became clearer.

One of them was on the mountain, about to die, and the other was at the foot of the mountain, also about to die.

Tears welled up instantly, and Eriri Sawamura, in her last moments of light, fell onto the snow between them.

She got up, covered in snow, stumbled towards him, threw herself into his arms, and cried bitterly.

"Whoa!!!!"

......

Bai Yujing's expression shifted, and finally she exclaimed with admiration, "So this is destiny."

Huang Quan tossed away the melon rind and sighed, "In the end, it was actually her who broke the deadlock."

Then she scratched her head: "Well, when did she get here?"

After a moment of silence, Bai Yujing said, "I don't know. I was so focused on the two of them that I didn't notice the one behind them."

......

Kitahara Yuko suddenly turned her head and looked across the street.

There, a tiny figure crashed to the ground, knocked over a streetlamp, and then wobbled as it soared into the sky.

She remained silent for a long time before finally relaxing and exclaiming, "It's amazing that he's someone outside the Yukinoshita family."

......

Nomiyama withdrew his hand that had been pressing down on her until she fainted, his lips trembling.

This shouldn't be happening. Their business shouldn't involve Eriri.

Eriri is about to break, truly break.

He held the girl in his arms, struggled to his feet, and then turned his head to look in the southeast direction.

There is a mountain there, a mountain that holds his past and his true strength.

He closed his eyes and began to sense, began to summon.

Perception was interrupted as a person appeared in the room.

"With me here, it won't come to that."

How is Eriri?

Nomiyama's voice was hoarse: "They're exhausted. They must have been following us all this way."

Yukino Yukinoshita reached out, passed her breath to him, and breathed a sigh of relief: "It's alright, I can heal you."

She levitated the unconscious Eriri, then held her in her arms and continued to treat her.

The two fell silent for a moment.

Yes, they were so focused on each other that they didn't notice anyone following them, nor did they realize that anyone was following them.

In this world, everyone who can keep up with them is an outsider. In their judgment, Eriri is the one who can't keep up, but she is not an outsider.

No matter how you look at it, she can't be considered an outsider among them.

She was the bond that brought them together, their best friend, and a part of their lives.

Now she just crashed into us, shattering their unspoken destiny with her own life.

Nomiyama swayed slightly, his voice soft: "Why is she always so impulsive..."

Yukino Yukinoshita looked at the person sleeping in her arms, and finally looked up at his bloodshot eyes: "You should sleep too."

Nomiyama looked at her, a grin spreading across his face: "I just heard you speak. What did you say?"

Yukino Yukinoshita's expression remained unchanged: "You were hallucinating before you died."

"I love you too."

"I also love Eriri."

After saying those two sentences, Nomiyama completely relaxed his body and fell backward.

Yukino Yukinoshita silently controlled his body to levitate, moved him to her side, and began to repair his damaged body.

She looked down at the person in her arms whose face was covered in cracks, her expression softening.

Then she looked at the people around her and remained silent for a long time.

She turned and walked into the wind and snow.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Chapter 262 Can't you not die?

I opened my eyes to an unfamiliar wooden ceiling.

Turning her head, she saw a familiar person sitting in a chair, reading a book in a familiar posture. An oil lamp was placed beside her, its orange light shining on her, making the scene look somewhat different from usual.

"What about her?"

Nomiyama asked this question first.

"I'm cooking for you."

Yukino Yukinoshita glanced at him and turned a page of her book.

"Really? Why didn't you do it?"

"She insisted."

"Oh."

Nomiyama sat up and found that she had changed into a long-sleeved nightgown. She was no longer wearing a kimono, but a white nightgown.

There was a whistling sound outside.

He scanned the room, somewhat curious: "Where are we?"

"I don't know," Yukino Yukinoshita replied calmly.

Nomiyama paused for a moment.

What do you mean by "don't know"?

"All I know is that it's in Siberia, and I bought the items from a place that's quite far away."

"Oh."

Nomiyama stood up and stepped barefoot onto the wooden floor.

If I don't know, I don't know. It's not important anyway.

"I'm going to eat something first, I'm so hungry."

"Ah."

The two maintained a brief and ordinary conversation until Nomiyama was about to pass by her, at which point he asked a question.

Who took off my clothes?

There was no answer, so he understood and walked past her to the other end.

There was a fireplace beside her, but it was not lit. At the far end of the room were two exits, one facing forward and the other to the right, neither of which had a door.

Nomiyama saw Eriri through the opening to the right.

She was wearing an oversized short-sleeved shirt, sitting on a small wooden stool, with a wood-fired stove in front of her, crackling and popping, and a large pot on the stove.

Her hair was loose, and she seemed to be lost in thought.

Nomiyama looked around at the wooden hut, which was clearly a kitchen, and went inside.

He bent down, picked up the small wooden stool, walked over to her, and sat down.

Why are you following us?

He asked directly.

Eriri Sawamura turned to look at him, then leaned against his shoulder: "You'll die."

"Yes." Nomiyama did not deny it.

They will die, right there in that little valley, silently, together.

"I will die too," Eriri Sawamura said softly.

Nomiyama understood what she meant, so he picked her up and held her in his arms: "Dying for love is not a good habit."

"Now that I've found you, I don't need to commit suicide for love."

"Impressive," Nomiyama exclaimed, reaching for a piece of firewood and setting it ablaze.

"I'm terrified." Eriri Sawamura trembled slightly.

Nomiyama hugged her a little tighter.

“I’m afraid that you won’t even know where you’ll die, and you never even thought of telling me.”

"I'm sorry, it was too rushed at the time. I'll definitely bring you next time."

"You said it."

"of course."

Nomiyama is like a parent comforting a child who's been ostracized: "We'll definitely take you next time, and we'll take you with us to die."

Then the child was satisfied.

Yukino Yukinoshita carried the bowl and chopsticks into the kitchen, glanced at them, ignored them, and quietly lifted the pot lid.

Steam rose and the aroma of meat filled the air. Nomiyama felt his mouth watering, placed Eriri on her little stool, and got up to look into the pot.