To the Man Destined to Kill Me - Chapter 20

“If you’re trying to mock me, you’ve made a big mistake. Your sick joke is absolutely the worst.”

With that cold remark, Wilhelm walked away.

Scarlett stared blankly at his retreating figure, her expression empty. After a brief moment, she pouted slightly.

That was it. That was the entirety of Scarlett’s response.

She ate lunch as if nothing had happened, and the next day, she doodled during class like always.

As usual, she nodded off once the lecture began, and when Noah woke her, she’d rise and eat.

Noah quietly observed her with increasing attentiveness.

He wondered if she’d been serious when she asked to date him.

Her words—saying she liked Wilhelm—echoed in his mind countless times a day.

That’s why, even after class had ended, he just sat there watching her sleep, unable to bring himself to wake her.

What’s going on in that little head of yours? What are you really feeling?

“…Please… save me.”

Again. That dream again. What kind of nightmare kept repeating like that?

Noah thought of his mother. She too had always seemed afraid of something. She insisted she needed to be protected—constantly.

Her anxiety was endless. But what, exactly, was she so afraid of? Why did she feel the need to be protected?

She’d been sold into slavery and even forced onto a whaling ship—how could anything be worse than that?

Noah could never quite understand her. Still, he knew she held countless secrets she had never spoken of, and he had long since half-given up on ever hearing them.

“Just… kill me. Please… spare Isaac…”

The last time he heard it, he remembered someone mentioning Isaac was Scarlett’s nephew. From the sound of it, Isaac was killed, and she was begging desperately to save him.

Scarlett’s brow furrowed. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Even so, Noah let her sleep a little longer. He also wanted to hear more—understand the dream more clearly.

Her confession to Wilhelm had been frustrating, and perhaps that’s why he looked away from her nightmare, just for a moment.

Noah, not quite understanding his own feelings, rested his head beside Scarlett’s.

Her hair gleamed more brightly than usual in the sunlight. He felt an urge to touch that red—it was so vibrant he wished it would seep between his fingers.

“Not Isaac… please…”

What is it that torments you so much?

Each time she whimpered, Noah felt her sorrow bleed into him. Still, a small, dark part of him wanted her to be a little sadder. I’m in pain—so you should share in this too.

Then suddenly, a thought surfaced. Why does it make me sad that she and Wilhelm are involved? He was questioning his own emotions when Scarlett began to cry.

“…No… please…”

His mind went blank. He hadn’t wanted her to cry. He hated seeing her cry.

Noah sprang up, calling her name.

“Scarlett. Wake up.”

“No…”

“Scarlett. It’s time for club activities.”

She writhed in distress, and a wave of panic hit him. Why didn’t I wake her sooner?

Tears streamed down Scarlett’s cheeks. Alarmed, Noah gave her a gentle shake.

“Scarlett!”

“Ahh!”

Scarlett screamed as her eyes flew open. The first thing she saw were Noah’s eyes—eyes that looked eerily similar to those of her dream-killer.

The deep, suffocating blue stunned her. She froze, staring blankly into his gaze. Then, when she heard Noah’s gentle voice calling, “Scarlett?” she could finally take a shaky breath.

And then—

“Aaaaaaaaahhh!”

“…Scarlett.”

“Aaaaaaahhh! Aaaaahhh!”

Waking from one nightmare, she found herself in another. The murderer from her dreams was real—standing in front of her. A nightmare that didn’t end even in death.

Something snapped in her mind. She couldn’t accept it as reality. If she did—she’d go mad instantly.

“It’s okay. Scarlett. I’m sorry. I’m sorry—my God. Calm down.”

Noah gestured for her to breathe, to relax, but she was overwhelmed by panic and fear, sobbing uncontrollably.

He pulled her into a tight embrace—just as he had during the kidnapping incident. Though she thrashed and resisted, he held her as if trying to crush her into himself.

“Shhh… shhh… It’s okay.”

Scarlett clawed at his back with her nails, yanked at his hair, and bit his shoulder.

But Noah didn’t flinch. Her hands were too frail to hurt him, and her bites—drained of strength from crying—barely registered.

“Don’t kill me! Please, just leave me alone!”

Had he really killed her in that dream? Was he the villain in her nightmare? Whatever the case, now was not the time to ask.

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

Scarlett was in the middle of a full-blown panic attack. It broke his heart. It made him feel sick. Because this girl—was his sister. His own flesh and blood.

“Shhh. I’m sorry, Scarlett. Let’s calm down.”

“Stop coming into my dreams. Just stop… please, just stop.”

“I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. I’m sorry…”

Whether he’d done it or not, Scarlett saw him as the villain of her dream. Noah held her tightly until she finally started to calm down. Her fragile shoulders trembled in his arms.

Scarlett cried in Noah’s embrace for a long time. And with every tear that soaked into him, Noah felt something stir inside.

The realization that he could be a place of comfort for something so small and delicate—he felt thankful. Grateful. Satisfied.

And then, suddenly, a strange and selfish desire crept up.

If only she could be tamed like this.

Only by me—not anyone else. Not Wilhelm. I want him to mean nothing to her.

“…Noah? Is that you?”

After a while, Scarlett spoke, her voice hoarse but steadier.

“Yeah. It’s me.”

In that vast, wide world, for this brief moment, it felt like it was just the two of them. At least, that’s how it felt to Noah. And in that moment, he wanted to cling to her even more tightly.

He decided to call these twisted, dark emotions a yearning for family.

His guilt, his pity, his remorse—they had twisted his concept of familial love. So really, this wasn’t anything deeper.

“I’m okay now.”

“You have nightmares a lot, don’t you?”

“…You heard?”

“Quite often.”

“What do I say?”

“…‘Please save me.’ And you call Isaac.”

Scarlett froze, stiff as stone. Like water slipping between pebbles, she quietly slid out of Noah’s arms. She turned away, composed her expression, and said,

“Let’s go. It’s time for club activities.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to rest early today?”

“No. I want to draw.”

One thing Noah had learned recently—Scarlett really liked art.

She had no interest in academics, but she loved sketching and observing nature.

She found beauty in even the most fragile wildflowers. It seemed she found peace in nature.

So he didn’t try to stop her and followed her to the club room.

There, as they gathered their easels, they ran into Wilhelm. Neither he nor Scarlett acknowledged each other. They passed like strangers.

“Let’s draw over here.”

After finding an empty classroom, Scarlett picked up a pencil and declared she would draw Noah. Her movements were practiced—the way she held the pencil and lightly sketched across the canvas was confident.

A cool autumn breeze drifted in through the slightly open window, tousling her hair. Finding it bothersome, she pulled it up high with a tie.

Her slightly wavy red hair—so full of passion and fire—was now gathered in one place. Noah couldn’t look away.

Her exposed nape was pale. The delicate line of her neck flowed into her shoulders, and her gray eyes shimmered with a quiet sadness.

Something about the scene made Noah hold his breath. She looked so unfamiliar.

Is she really my sister?

“Sit up straight, will you?”

“Oh—right.”

Noah adjusted himself, but whether it was the lingering emotions from earlier or the awkwardness of being someone’s portrait subject, his posture was stiff and unnatural.

He looked so awkward in the chair that Scarlett couldn’t help but laugh.

“Haha.”

That laugh changed everything. Her stiff expression crumbled, revealing the real Scarlett White hidden beneath.

A faint dimple appeared near her cheek. The tension vanished, revealing a playful, mischievous girl. Her crescent-moon eyes sparkled, and her laughter was light and bright.

It was a side of her Noah never thought he’d see. He couldn’t find words.

All he could do was listen to her clear laughter and feel the ache in his chest. Perhaps it was the weight of her ever-present sorrow.

I wish you could laugh like this every day.

With her eyes crinkled, cheeks pink, and teeth flashing, just like now—right in front of him.

“You look like such an idiot right now.”

“Do I?”

Noah exaggerated his pose even more, and Scarlett laughed until she had to clutch her stomach.

Her laughter blended with the sunlight, warming the space around them—and him.

“I always thought you were dull and boring, but you’ve got more sides to you than I expected. Haha.”

“You too.”

“You probably think I’m annoying and self-centered, right? You don’t have to say it—I know.”

“No. I actually…”

think you’re beautiful. Noah swallowed the words.

“…I’m just grateful you’re my sister.”

But why did that word—sister—make his chest tighten?

Was it because recognizing her as his sister made him feel more responsible for her life?

Or because it made her all the more precious—and pitiful?

“Really?”

Scarlett awkwardly adjusted her blanket. She didn’t see Noah as a brother. He was still an enemy. A target for revenge.

And yet… she felt comfortable with him. Maybe she was relying on him in ways she hadn’t realized. Maybe—just maybe—her thirst for revenge had slightly dulled.

That thought frightened her.

Scarlett’s tone turned stiff as she corrected his posture and continued drawing more formally.

Noah chewed the inside of his cheek, thinking his words had made her uncomfortable. He noticed she was avoiding his gaze.

It stung. It was a small gesture—one he’d once ignored. So why did such a minor thing—avoiding eye contact—grip his heart so tightly?

“If what I said earlier made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”

“You’re free to think whatever you want.”

Scarlett blinked coldly.

“Even if I hate it, we’re still siblings in the end. We share the same father. Right?”

Something stirred in Noah. A familiar kind of sorrow. A mixture of emptiness and disappointment.

He crushed the newspaper prop in his hand. He wanted to cry. To wail. And to scream why. Why do I feel this way?

His mouth felt dry. His chest, suffocated.

And so, he wanted to bother Scarlett—just a little.

“Scarlett.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you like Wilhelm?”

Scarlett’s face twisted immediately.

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