Chapter 137
No, she had not.
Somewhere within her chest, there had always been an emptiness.
She longed for something, wished for something—but never knew what it was, and so she spent her life aching for an answer.
People who saw her called her sensitive, different, peculiar.
Back then, she had simply accepted it as truth.
‘Even in my sixth reincarnation, I felt as if I had left something behind. I lived my life in constant unease, as if I were being chased.’
Memories drifted at the edge of her consciousness, as though slowly awakening.
Feeling an itch deep within, Siren took a deep breath.
‘Ah… Perhaps I have always wanted to return to the South.’
Each life she had lived as a human in Wilkeron had been meaningful in its own way.
Even the life where she had been weak and died young.
Even the life where she had been healthy and free to roam.
To her, both carried the same weight.
For she had learned the value of a finite existence—something she could never have understood as a god.
And yet, no matter how she lived, she had always found herself gazing off into the distance.
How strange.
As if she had always known there was a place she must return to.
‘My return to the South was inevitable. Things must return to where they began. That is the way of the world.’
She would take this book with her as a memento.
How ironic.
She had abandoned Yasamin so cruelly, yet had written a book as if fearing she might forget him entirely.
“Darling, what are you doing?”
“I was looking for a book.”
“A book?”
As she stepped outside, a man was waiting for her in the hallway.
Leaning against the wall like a loyal guard dog, Yasamin raised an eyebrow at the book in her arms.
“It’s something I wrote in a past life. Your story is in it.”
“I want to read it too.”
“Here.”
It was heavy anyway—this worked out well.
Handing over the book, she also pressed the lamp into his hands, walking on unburdened.
It didn’t matter.
He existed for her, after all. Had he not chosen this fate himself?
Of course, she no longer intended to treat him carelessly.
Unlike before, Siren now understood what a ‘human heart’ was.
She had learned enough to know exactly how much kindness to give—just enough to keep from wounding him.
Not because he belonged to her, so she could do as she pleased with him.
But because he was hers—because she cherished and claimed him, she must treasure him even more.
It had taken her so long, but she had finally realized it.
“Perhaps that’s why I had to wander for so long.”
As she murmured softly, Yasamin gave her a puzzled look.
“It’s just… a thought I had. If I had remained a god, I would never have understood you. I wouldn’t have been able to see from your perspective… and you wouldn’t have been able to save me.”
“…Yeah.”
“I’m not saying that this was for the best, or that what you went through was justified. But… I do think it took us a thousand years to reach this point. It had to.”
Thus, I came to understand you.
And you came to resent me.
Step by step, we approached and withdrew, until we finally reached the perfect distance.
I don’t know if this is right, but if this is what we are, then it can’t be wrong either.
After all, there are no wrong answers when it comes to relationships between people.
“If my wounds were inevitable—”
It was then.
The man, who had seemed lost in thought, lifted the corners of his lips slightly.
“Then I’ll accept even that.”
“…….”
“As long as you never leave me again. I can’t accept it twice.”
How long must you have deliberated before uttering those few words?
Siren, trying to gauge the depths of his thoughts, found too many tangled emotions caught on her fingertips, like stars scattered across the Milky Way.
She gave up.
It wasn’t something that could be resolved in a matter of minutes.
Truthfully, even days wouldn’t be enough.
For all the time he had spent waiting, she would have to spend just as long by his side, understanding him.
“I wonder if the world has a term for a relationship like ours.”
When she murmured the thought aloud, Yasamin chuckled.
“Of course it does.”
“Really?”
“You must not know since you’re so pure, my goddess, but this lowly one has been around the block a few times.”
“Now I’m curious. Tell me.”
Bantering as they walked, they soon arrived at the bedroom.
At the threshold, Yasamin stretched out his arm, gently halting her.
“The one who serves is called a ‘sub,’ and the one who is served is called a ‘dominant.’ That’s the technical term.”
“Okay.”
“That refers to the power dynamic. The roles in s*x are different. The one doing the penetrating is the ‘top,’ and the one being penetrated is the ‘bottom.’”
“……Is that so?”
It wasn’t difficult to understand—but it was embarrassing.
Something about it felt… childish, like the kind of slang kids would use.
Noticing her expression, Yasamin chuckled and jerked his chin, signaling her to step aside.
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