Touch Me And Your're Dead! [English]

12

Chapter 12

Art and I got out of the car after passing through the tunnel. It wouldn’t make sense to drive around the city when we could just walk.

I approached a stall that sold rice balls, a treat Art often brought me when we were outside the city.

“Art, look! They have rice balls. Let’s buy some!” I exclaimed.

“How come you just finished breakfast and you’re still hungry?” Art replied, his eyebrows raised as he walked over to me.

“Duh, just say if you don’t want any. Can’t I just want to eat something different?” I retorted, telling the vendor I wanted to buy four rice balls.

“These dishes are the same as what they offer in the main building. It gets boring eating the same thing all the time,” I added. After the vendor handed them to me, I took two for myself and gave the remaining ones to Art.

He accepted them, and we continued walking. I happily took a bite of the rice ball in my hand and savored the flavor as we strolled along.

Suddenly, I stopped in my tracks. Across the street, I saw the little boy who had given Art and me bread the last time we were here. He was showing an empty tray to a man who looked like his father.

The man quickly lifted the boy and placed him on his shoulder. They laughed together as they made their way into a shop.

In that moment, memories of my own father flooded back to me—how he used to look at me when I was a child.

“Here.”

I paused, turning to see what Art was holding out to me. I was surprised to see he was offering me the rice ball I had given him earlier.

“You look like you’re about to cry. Eat it,” he said, concern etched on his face.

I burst into laughter. What the—did he think I was crying because I was hungry?

“I haven’t even finished what I’m eating! I just remembered something. You’re terrible! When I’m sad, you really think I’m just hungry?” I said, continuing to walk.

“You are a glutton when it comes to food,” he teased.

I shot him a glare. Was he calling me a pig?

I pouted and told him that when I lived in the Alegre mansion, I didn’t get to taste anything different until I turned 23.

“If it wasn’t potatoes, they fed me corn. I was lucky if there was a big event at the mansion, like my stepsister’s birthday,” I explained.

I would wash the plates and eat whatever leftover food the guests left behind.

“That’s why now that I have money, I want to buy all kinds of food and try them all,” I declared, showing Art the envelope filled with cash that I had just received.

“Okay,” Art replied, taking another bite of his rice ball, seemingly unfazed by my story. I pouted again. He was so cold—didn’t he feel anything after hearing my tale?

Suddenly, a sports car zoomed past us, creating a strong gust of wind.

I squealed as I dropped the envelope, and the money fluttered away.

“My money!”

I jumped up and rushed into the street to collect it. As I bent down to grab the envelope, I heard the screeching of tires approaching my direction.

When I looked up, I saw two cars speeding toward me. My eyes widened in terror as childhood memories flashed before me. Was I going to die?

“You i***t!”

Someone yanked my arm, pulling me back to the other side of the street just as the two cars sped by. I instinctively wrapped my arms around Art, who had pulled me close to shield me.

My eyes widened as I suddenly realized our position. I pushed Art away, who was now glaring at me.

“I’m leaving. I don’t plan to be your damn babysitter. You i***t,” he said irritably before walking away, scolding me for being careless and reckless.

I scratched my cheek, realizing Art had a bit of a temper. I sighed and began picking up the scattered bills from the ground.

After a while, a few people also helped gather the money that had landed on the street, handing it back to me. I bent down to thank them.

They smiled and waved goodbye before leaving. I returned the money to the envelope and glanced in the direction where Art had gone. He seemed genuinely annoyed with me.

“Like he’s the one who almost got hit,” I muttered to myself as I continued walking. I felt a bit sad that Art had left me. I looked at the envelope in my hand and smiled.

“Whose care? I’m going to eat a lot of food!”

I punched the air playfully and hurried across the street to buy some food.

I told myself I would enjoy myself even if I was alone, but now I found myself sitting on a bench, surrounded by a variety of food and watching the many people passing by.

There were students walking with their friends, couples chatting and laughing as they came from grocery shopping, and children playing nearby.

I felt trapped, as if I were outside looking in. It was lonely.

I lost my appetite for the bread I was holding when I noticed a pair of shoes approaching, and someone handed me a bottle of water.

I stopped and looked up. It was Art, frowning as he pointed out that I had bought so much food but hadn’t brought any water.

I thought he had left me for good. I took the bottle from him and apologized. He sat down next to me, took some food from my stash, and opened it.

“Why did you come back? I thought you left me,” I asked, genuinely surprised.

“Don’t ask. It’s annoying,” he replied, trying to sound indifferent.

I was struggling to suppress a smile at the thought that Art had returned. He hadn’t abandoned me, and it seemed like he had been following me all day. It was getting late, and he must have known where I was.

“There will be a fireworks display later near here. Do you want to watch?” he asked.

I paused and turned to him, asking what he meant by a fireworks display. Art raised an eyebrow at me, clearly surprised.

“Are you stupid? You don’t know what fireworks are?” he asked incredulously.

“I’m not familiar, okay? I’m just asking! Don’t call me stupid,” I shot back, rolling my eyes. What even were fireworks? Fireplaces? Fire trucks?

“You’re the only person I’ve met who doesn’t know what fireworks are,” Art said, shaking his head. He pulled out his phone and showed me a video clip of colorful lights exploding in the sky.

I took his phone, unable to tear my eyes away from the beautiful display.

“We’ll see that later in the plaza, around midnight,” Art said. I looked back at him, my eyes wide with excitement, and asked if we would really get to see the lights in the sky tonight.

He nodded, and I was thrilled to ask him if he would accompany me.

After we finished eating, Art and I walked around. Of course, he was quiet, while I chattered away. It felt good to be on friendly terms again, as if he hadn’t just yelled at me earlier.

We paused when we heard a cat crying in an alleyway.

I stopped walking and followed the sound, leading me to a corner near a trash bin where I found a small, shivering kitten. It looked cold and hungry.

“Poor thing,” I murmured.

I crouched down and pulled out the bread from my bag, tearing off a piece to offer to the kitten, which devoured it eagerly. I noticed a pile of boxes nearby and grabbed a small one to create a makeshift shelter.

“What are you doing?” Art asked from behind me.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m making a little home for the kitten,” I replied. Art asked if I planned to take it to the building.

I hesitated and quickly answered no. I removed my jacket and placed it in the box.

“I can’t even feed myself, let alone take care of a pet. I have no money or home,” I said. I reached out to touch the kitten, but it flinched, so I withdrew my hand and looked at it.

“It might just die because I’m unlucky,” I whispered. I noticed the kitten had calmed down and was now looking at me with curious eyes.

Art mentioned that food and supplies were free in their building.

“I’ll only be working here for three years, and then I’ll leave,” I said.

I looked at Art, explaining that I didn’t want to take on another burden.

He seemed to misunderstand, so I fell silent and returned my attention to the kitten.

I smiled when it climbed into the box, clutching the bread, and settled in. It looked at me.

“Sorry, but I can’t take you with me,” I whispered, hugging my knees.

“I’m sure someone else will come by and take you,” I murmured, gazing at the kitten.

“Please, auntie! Just a little food! Manny needs to eat!”

I saw myself kneeling in front of a door, pleading for food and medicine for my nanny.

“If I hadn’t been greedy, my nanny would still be alive. If I had been strong enough, she wouldn’t have had to suffer alongside me,” I whispered. After the kitten finished the food and I gave it some water, Art and I decided it was time to leave.

Art asked if I was okay leaving the kitten there. I really wanted the kitten.

“My boss will kill me in the future. Do you want me to bring the kitten along?” I joked, chuckling as I started to walk ahead of Art.

I wanted to take care of the kitten because I felt sorry for it, but I knew I couldn’t handle the responsibility.

“Everyone who gets close to me ends up dying.”

My mother, my nanny, and my first pet bird—they all died because I was weak, cowardly, and foolish.

I hadn’t noticed we had arrived at the plaza until I looked around in awe. There was a dazzling fountain illuminated with lights, and colorful banners fluttered everywhere. Numerous stalls offered a variety of street foods.

I grabbed the hem of Art’s coat and pulled him toward the stall selling roasted duck.

I had just eaten, but suddenly I felt hungry again.

After a while, Art urged me to leave the plaza. I asked him where we were going.

“We will find a good place to watch the fireworks,” he replied, leading me up a steep path. There was a railing, and we passed by many trees.

I winced at the height; it was painful on my legs.

“Wait! My legs hurt, Art!”

I sat down on the ground and rubbed my thighs. Gosh, it felt like they were going to fall off.

“The fireworks are about to start,” Art said, his expression unreadable.

It was no wonder he was so tall; his strides were twice the length of mine.

I forced myself to stand and hurried after Art, who seemed intent on leaving me behind.

When we reached the spot, I immediately confronted Art for walking so fast.

I paused when I saw him standing by the railing, staring blankly into the distance.

I approached and looked down to see a mesmerizing array of lights below, feeling as if we were close enough to touch the sky.

“Hey, Art! Take off your sunglasses! The lights are beautiful!” I exclaimed, running toward the railing. The breeze felt refreshing, and the silence was soothing.

“My sister brought me here first. She always brings me to watch the fireworks because she knows I hate crowds,” he said, his voice tinged with sadness.

I stopped and turned to him, sensing the melancholy in his tone.

“I lied to her. I told her I didn’t want to come because there are too many people, but the truth is, I can’t see the colors. Watching fireworks without seeing a single color is pointless.”

I was shocked to learn this. So that’s why he wore sunglasses—he had trouble seeing.

I glanced back at the lights below and felt a pang of guilt. I could sense Art’s gaze on me.

“I can’t identify colors. I can’t tell you what color the lights are down there,” he confessed.

Art called me an i***t, and I shot him a glare. I saw him leaning against the railing, his back to the beautiful view.

“We’re not in a drama, and I didn’t bring you here just to look at the colors. I don’t need your help,” he said, brushing off my concern.

“Don’t lie,” I said, meeting his gaze. He looked at me with surprise.

“It is a big deal because it reminds you of your sister. She made an effort to bring you here to show you the place, but because you can’t see the colors, you can’t enjoy it. You must feel disappointed because you want to see what she sees, right? That’s why she brought you here—to enjoy it together and experience the whole place,” I explained.

In my mind, I could picture a young Art gazing up at the sky, surrounded by laughter and joy, while he could only see white lights tracing patterns in the air.

I understood that feeling all too well. I had felt helpless when my nanny fell ill. I had no one to turn to for help. I didn’t know how to cook. There were recipe books to make porridge, but I couldn’t read.

Nanny had tried to teach me, but nothing stuck in my mind because I felt so dull. If only I had been smarter, braver, and stronger, I would still have my nanny with me.

I tightened my grip on the paper bag filled with food.

“I don’t think you’re stupid. You understand English, at least. How can you be so stupid if you learned to understand English even though you never attended school?” Art said.

I barely understood him, but it seemed he was trying to comfort me, which made me laugh.

“I don’t understand you very well, but thanks for saying I’m not stupid.”

He raised an eyebrow at me, as if questioning how I could only grasp that part of his statement. I pouted. I only knew a little English, and he spoke so quickly.