I Ran Away after I was Forced into a Love Polygon

Chapter 43

A corridor lit by blinding white light. Not a single crack of paint to be seen anywhere.

The ceiling; the wall; the ground. All white. There are not even windows. One would have a hard time distinguishing up from down, or left from right.

“Gege, wait for me!”

A young voice shouts.

The child at the front stops and looks back to see a boy about five years old stumbling in this direction.

The older child looks to be about ten, so the boy is only at his chest’s height.

He watches as the boy runs until he is before him, and asks, “what.”

“Where are you going? I want to go too,” says the boy.

“No,” comes the reply.

“Why?”

“You’re too clingy. I want to breathe freely.”

The boy fails to understand, “you can still breathe when I am by your side.”

“…” The young teen feels that with the boy’s five-year-old IQ, it might be too challenging for him to understand the troubles of him, a ten-year-old.

So instead of explaining, he tells him, “look behind you.”

“Behind me?” The boy turns his head around.

The corridor looks the same as always, extending endlessly to unknown depths.

He can’t see anything, so he turns his head back, but then, he sees that his gege is gone.

“!”

The kid receives critical psychological damage realising he distracted him with such a method.

In a suffocatingly small room, just 10 sq. meters in area and decorated the same way as the corridor – no decoration, pure white – a young teen sits on the bed in the corner with his legs crossed like a monk.

Shortly after, he opens his eyes to reveal his cold, black pupils. He turns his head towards the end of his bed.

“Come out.”

Afterwards, a boy rises from the end of the bed. His chestnut-coloured curly hair looks rather fluffy.

“Gege, what are you doing?” The boy asks frankly.

“I am meditating. I am almost able to taste the roast chicken.”

“Roast chicken?”

“Human food from the old era; I’ve seen pictures in the books.”

The boy looks as clueless as ever.

The ten-year-old knew, that there is a generational gap for shared feelings between single-digit ages and double-digit ages.

“Nevermind. What do you want, again?”

Then the boy climbs up the bed, “I want to meditate with gege.”

“…”

As long as he wasn’t interfering, the young teen would not care wherever he chose to be.

Though he has had experience now. No matter what he was doing, this boy liked to cling to him. That was fine, really, but he also liked to stare at him so intensely it feels like someone has the edge of a blade touching the side of his neck.

Since the boy’s abilities were activated via his eyeball, which can chop up anything in his sight, and, what’s worse, he’s still not good at controlling his abilities yet, so, for the safety of his own life, he picks the boy up by the collar and walks out the door.