There's No Love In the Deathzone (BL) novel Chapter 378

Chapter 378: Chapter 370. The One Left Behind

"I hate you."

The words were uttered with a sting in his tongue and a pain in his heart. But it wasn’t a false claim. Zein did hate his father. He didn’t see the need to lie to his heart, and to the man he saw from the first and the last time.

Rather, it made him want to be the most truthful than any other time.

"For the longest time, I had hated you," Zein gripped the cold frame of the stretcher, remembering all the hatred he kept, the curses he hurled, every time he thought about the man he was supposed to call his father.

The man he never knew, the man he never saw. A faceless villain he based his hatred of a relationship on.

At least, until he could put a face on that villain.

After twenty-seven years, he found out who his father was, plastering his own face to the unmasked villain. And yet, his heart found no respite. Decades of unpleasant feelings, unlike a trace in the rain, couldn’t be erased with just a single shower. His heart was confused, even if his mind could rationalize the horrible outcome.

"Even now, after I know everything, I still hate you," Zein reached out his hand, brushing a strand of loose hair off the pale face. His fingers stayed there, until they were as cold as the cheek they touched.

"I hate...the way you think your sacrifice will do us any good," Zein opened his mouth to a strained voice he almost couldn’t recognize as his own. "I hate that you didn’t stay with her and ensure her safety beside her."

Zein hated it. He hated it still, how Roan left Lucia alone with that wicked man. He should have been with her. Even if they had to run to the end of the world and the edge of hell, even if they had to sacrifice other people, he should have stayed with her.

What kind of paladin away from the one he should protect?

What kind of Esper left the side of his Guide?

What kind of father left his child before they were born?

"I hate...that I should never know the touch of your warm skin even for a second," Zein pulled his fingers away, as if the coldness had pierced his skin, and pierced his soul while at it. "I hate that I have no chance of calling someone my father. I hate..."

Zein gritted his jaw, hands curling on the metal frame of the stretcher as his words caught in the crescendo of his heartbeat. Still, through the burning throat and stinging eyes, he pushed the words out.

"I hate you..." his shoulder, which suddenly felt like there was a ton of weight piled up there, hunched over. "I hate that in the end, I still love you..."

His voice waned into nothing more than a wisp of whisper, as his heart screamed silently into the void.

"I hate that I have to struggle with all of this...thoughts, and emotions--"

And jealousy, of every child who came to know their fathers when those fathers were still alive. And dismay, as he thought it might be better for him to never know his father at all. And anger, for his misplaced hatred and frustration.

He was upset, he was confused, he was lost.

"What should I do?" he gripped the stiff arm, and pressed his head on the cold hand. "What should I do...father?"

* * *

"Thank you, Father. You can bring her home now," Radia chuckled at the sound of his whining, drunk mother on the other side.

The perpetrators had been apprehended, including those who cluelessly waited in their homes, and joyfully enjoying the ruse of a party his parents held. While nothing would be concluded until the trial was over, there was no dodging this, because the Old Houses would never let this rest.

He wouldn’t, at any rate.

But that could wait until a bit later; he had a new priority to attend.

"Where to, Sir?"

"The hospital."

Radia leaned his head back and exhaled long. There was a slightly uncomfortable feeling in his gut, calling his father good-naturedly, when his lover had just killed his own, and his friend had just found the lost remnant of his dead father.

Gods. This whole affair truly left them in a mess. None of them needed a healer, but the invisible wound was the most dangerous of them all.

There was no cure, of course, for the pain of loss for those who were left behind. Not even the deities could revive anyone with no pulsing brain and beating heart. But in the wake of those passing, questions were usually surfacing. Answering them, oftentimes, lightened the agonizing pain.

That, more than any consoling word, was worth more for those who were mourning. _{freewebnovel.cσ๓}

And Radia came with some answers in his hand.

Walking through the corridor of his family’s hospital reminded him of the first time he met Han Joon. An almost forgotten memory of the boy who was as brave as he was pitiful. His heart stung and his neck throbbed at the thought of that boy, but he felt relieved to see the redness beneath those blue eyes.