People Aren't Meant to Be Fixed! (4 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 188

Was it not merely affection, but such excessive cherishing that it led to a desire to be together even in death?

“I have friends I hold dear too, but since this isn’t that kind of sentiment, I can’t quite grasp it.”

Even though the World Tree had regained its lost conscience, reawakened its sense of guilt, grown more empathetic toward others’ feelings, and learned to watch its words, the love parents give their children remained incomprehensible.

As a child, I understood positive attention and affection from parents at least vaguely thanks to Jeff and Hecate, and since I’d grown accustomed since my days in Paradise to receiving love and care from others, recognizing affection in any form came easily—I knew it when I saw it.

Moreover, I’d had similar thoughts before—why, even as I become a better person than I was in the past, do I still struggle to understand the love between parent and child? Could it be because the love I received as a child resembled the adoration offered to me by the second race of mortals who once worshipped me when I was the primordial human?

Or perhaps it’s simply because, in my previous life as the Late Emperor, I was married to the nation itself, and in none of my other lives have I ever borne or raised a child?

True, I’ve lived as someone’s spouse—like the wife of a drunkard—but I’ve never given birth to or raised a child myself.

My feelings for Jeff and Hecate are special, yet they aren’t the bond between parent and child—so if I exclude that… what’s even left? It’s complicated.

“Hearing it now, their situation does seem pitiful.”

Since it wasn’t urgent, I decided to postpone this dilemma for later and responded instead to Sasha’s earlier remark.

“But still, did she really need to sacrifice herself that much?”

Next, I turned my gaze from staring at Sasha toward Freyrie.

Judging by how she couldn’t even rise despite Sasha’s arrival, she really must be in bad shape. This was the very person who, more than anyone, would fly into a frenzy from sheer embarrassment if ever showing weakness in front of Sasha.

I’d even hoped that hearing our voices might make her eyes flutter open—but seeing her deeply asleep, slumped limply in my arms, made me feel a little sorry for her.

Was this pity? Or compassion?

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