There's No Love In the Deathzone (BL) novel Chapter 105

Chapter 105: [Bonus Chapter] The Star’s Flower

//t.w: suicide//

Radia Mallarc was the epitome of growing up with everything in his grasp.

He was born to a dynasty of power and wealth, as an only child that had no need to concern himself with a war of succession. But even with that status, the family let him do whatever he wanted. He could succeed the Mortix Group if he wanted, and he could become an active esper should he desire.

As if heaven sounded their agreement, Radia was also gifted with talent. Whether it was in taking care of the family’s business, or managing his awakened power. And no, he also wasn’t the type of genius who secretly worked hard or anything. He really did things easily, had a great comprehension ability, and was blessed with perfect memory.

People flocked to him, whether because they were fascinated by his charm, or to get connected to the Mallarc. He didn’t care about that though, it only gave him good reason to also took advantage of them. For Radia, it was a win-win.

He carried no burden, and was as free as a seed of a flower riding the wind to seek a place where he would take his roots. His life was perfect--so perfect that he often got bored and did some mischievous pranks. Even then, no one could tell him off.

His life couldn’t be more different than mine.

I was raised under a conservative father--and a conservative husband--that only cared for achievement. Getting born into this world wasn’t one of them. Or birthing a daughter. He was hard on my mother, and almost didn’t care about my older sister.

But even after I was born, it didn’t satisfy him.

I wasn’t talented enough. I didn’t awaken early enough. I was even sickly during my infancy. The moment I could walk and talk, I was immediately put under the strict tutelage of my father, who had no qualms about getting physical as a form of discipline. Doing good was a must, nothing to be proud of. Doing bad was a disgrace, and there was no such thing as a second chance.

My mother did not agree with everything he did to us, but that didn’t mean she had enough courage to voice her opinion--she was taught to be obedient after all. She knew we had a hard time, but even while comforting us, she told us to never show it in front of father.

I had to show him that I was strong and tough and that while I wasn’t born talented, I could still be better than anyone.

That would mean no crying about the beat-up, and no asking about why we couldn’t celebrate birthdays like any other kids. _{frёeweɓηovel.coɱ}

But when my mother was pregnant again, and the baby was due around my birthday, she told me in a whisper.

"Let’s have a birthday party,"

A secret one. For the first time ever. We’d have it in the hospital, since father was scheduled to be in the Capital during that week. We’d celebrate my sister’s too, although her birthday wasn’t on that month. Didn’t matter.

"Don’t tell anyone, okay?"

"Okay,"

"We’ll have a cake and a candle, yeah?"

"Okay,"

"We’ll sing the happy birthday too,"

"Okay,"

Like fate, the due date truly came on my birthday. For the first time in our household, we were filled with quiet excitement. For a new addition, for a long-awaited celebration. There was even the absence of our father, which allowed us to at least put on a smile. Even a grin, as I waited with my sister outside the delivery room.

We just didn’t think it wouldn’t become a celebration, but a funeral instead.

Something about overlooked eclampsia or something that we didn’t understand. We were too young to know about it, a pair of seven and fourteen-year-old kids, and my mother was too good at concealing her condition, being thought to hold pain and never whine.

"Father said he can’t come home yet, so we’ll have to take care of this ourselves, okay?"

"Okay,"

"I’ll deal with the morgue, so you stay with the baby, okay?"

"Okay,"

"Be good...and take care of him, okay?"

"Okay,"

"Joon...I love you, okay?"

"Okay."

I was good at doing what was told, so I went to the newborn ward and stayed with the baby. Mother said we’d called him Shin--faith. What kind of faith did my mother hold, I wondered; that our lives would be better after this? Was that birthday plan supposed to be a first step for her? I wouldn’t know.

"You’re weird!" the boy almost yelled at me, before realizing that we were in the hospital. "So you hide your emotion just because you are told to?"

"Yes," I answered easily.

"Why?" he frowned, looking angrier by the seconds.

"I don’t know," I told him honestly. I was taught to be obedient, without question.

The boy grabbed my hand then, and leaned his face closer to look straight into my eyes. "You shouldn’t be like that. My father said people should live freely."

I couldn’t understand him at that time, it contradict everything I had been taught about. So I just stared blankly at him while he stared at me with frustrated eyes.

That words, however, lived in my heart for years to come, until I met him again.

Before then, however, I had to live facing my father’s increasing wrath. I didn’t even know where my sister’s ash was being placed, since my father thought suicide was a disgrace and erased her name from the register. It took me years to find out her cause of death, and took me even longer to find out where her grave was.

I couldn’t even tell Shin he had an older sister.

He was weaker than me, he wouldn’t survive father if he carelessly slipped and asked him about her. I had to protect him, my mother’s faith. I had to shield him from father. It didn’t matter if I had to pour sweat and blood into my effort to best other talented people. As long as I could achieve what my father wanted me to achieve, his attention would be focused on my growth, and Shin could be a bit...freer.

I shall not allow him to end up like my sister. I shall not allow him to be like me.

I would not let my precious things get snatched away from me again.

Sometimes, I started to forget what it was like to have feelings. Hid them. Suppressed them. I was nothing but a prison for my own emotions.

Until I saw him again. The crimson eyes and red hair. Mischievous smile. It brought me a memory I could never forget, and a phrase etched deep within my soul.

When I looked at him, my prison was being unlocked, and for the first time in my life, I felt like letting them free; my emotions. As our eyes met, I let out a smile unconsciously.

And I made a promise to myself.

This time, I’ll make sure no one would take that precious thing away from me.