Flip the Coin [BL]-Chapter 194. |__O-(

I studied the Baldie a few more times, but I just didn’t understand what exactly I was seeing or where I would be able to move inside the giant, besides what I had already found out after shattering Baldie’s face.

Additionally, I started to feel hungry and thirsty more often as time went by. I think that was because my conjured up food wouldn’t remain inside me to be digested.

Although my body seemed to be able to sustain itself for a while, it wasn’t a long-term solution, especially since I was moving so much and using my ability so often as well.

So—I wish I could say the giant should show up soon, but I could never bring myself to even think thoughts like that.

In the past, I would have preferred to get the unpleasant stuff over with first, but now I wanted as much time between me and the giant as possible.

However, as the days went by and I started to feel weaker, always amidst outbursts of rage and despair, singing and wandering around, lying on Henry and biting him before talking about everyday things with his unmoving body while training and teleporting, I knew that this damn battle would have to be endured sooner rather than later.

Henry had turned into my pillow and constant support, just through his body warmth, along with the steady heartbeat that somehow helped to calm me down. Biting him had its own magic in soothing me.

I dozed off after another day full of training while leaning against Henry. This time it wasn’t to be knocked out, lose consciousness, or cry myself to sleep, but real sleep. And that would turn out to be a mistake.

I run over the ashes, feeling the earth shake; I am lifted and look at the ground that grows more distant with each time I blink. I don’t dare to look and close my eyes; I don’t want to see the abyss, the tongue, and the teeth while the pain of my crushed ribs no longer concerns me.

I just want it to end. I don’t want to fight; I just want the horror to end.

Grabbing, lifting, falling, CRUNCH.

When I woke up, my heart beat so strongly that I thought I would die right here, right now. It was as if, only in that moment, it sunk in that it would really happen; I was truly preparing for the fight.

No, I can’t do it.

I can’t do this.

I don’t even dare to look at him; how should I fight him?

My breathing accelerated, and it was like back in the hellhole.

I couldn’t get air, and I couldn’t breathe more slowly because I KNEW, I FUCKING KNEW I WOULD DIE THEN.

What should I do?

What should I do?

I am dying; it is over.

I’m dying.

I stood up, feeling that staying still would only accelerate my demise.

Going up and down, my view narrowed down, and I knew it was time.

Dying is so scary.

I conjured up Henry and grabbed his jaw to pull him down to me, simultaneously opening his mouth and pressing my lips against his.

Though there was no fresh air, if it worked the last time, it should work this time as well.

I closed my eyes and waited, concentrating on the warmth and the softness of his lips.

Please.

Please, fuck, I want to live.

Luckily, it really worked like last time. I started to breathe through my nose, and while remembering Henry acting out the last time and getting angry at that memory, I breathed slower.

Finally, after ten minutes, Henry disappeared and was now officially promoted from a cushion to an airbag.

"Fuck." I facepalmed at my actions, suddenly feeling sane again.

Naturally, I wouldn’t have died, but fuck. In those moments, I am so sure; this fucking fear is so real.

If I make it back, can I get some nice medications for this shit? Though... thinking about Kenny3, it’s better to stay away from stuff like this...

Anyway, I had to get a grip. These dreams could help me in the fight. As long as I close my eyes and let myself get chewed up, I miss out on the chance to go through a test flight, and that was too precious of a chance.

The next time I dreamed, I was again paralyzed with horror. So over the nonexistent day, I started to train. At the endless night, I started to sleep and train in my damn dreams.

Again, I was chewed every time, but simultaneously, I also trained my ability inside the mouth of the giant. Isn’t it like a computer game? You just try it countless times, and once you figure out how it wouldn’t work, you come closer to how it would work. Yet, I died each time, never overcoming my fear and only making these feeble attempts.

My hangman had grown arms, and I just laughed at seeing this.

I found myself stopping what I was doing every now and then, just staring ahead. I don’t know why I did that. It was like taking in life, feeling my heartbeat and feeling my breaths, somehow trying to feel that I was, indeed, alive. For now.

And then it came.

The moment when my hangman grew legs as well.

I had just talked with Snapshot Henry when I randomly looked at the coin.

My breath got stuck in my throat, and I was near tears again, the self-pity that was devouring me, the paralyzing fear, and the unwillingness to confront something so powerful.

I put Henry away and crawled out of the pit in which I often lounged with him, conjuring up Henry again while looking around.

I grabbed his hand and waited.

I closed my eyes and tried to get ready, thinking of my mother.

"Like a magpie~" I hummed.

"On the...."

"....right path~" She sings in the car.

All four windows are down, but I can still smell the smoke left behind by her having smoked secretly while she plays songs that surely aren’t for children.

"You got it wrong." I say.

"He doesn’t say magpie." I just finished my kiddie soccer training and am now being taken home by her.

This is a rare situation in which we are alone; at other times, my siblings would be in the car as well, or my father would drive.

But this time my father worked, and Lauren was over at her friend’s. Steve had gotten a tooth pulled and was still at home with the nanny.

My mom turns the music down a bit.

"No, it’s magpie. It matches the text better."

"It isn’t, and it doesn’t." I laugh and watch my hand that I put out through the open window, how it is thrown back by the wind, while I imagine that if I were to fly and turn my head to the side, it would probably look like this.

My father always insisted on using the air conditioner, and because of that, the windows were always closed.

Only with her could we open them.

I don’t want the windows open because I am hot; I want it so I can imagine myself flying. My mom was the only one who seemed to understand that, or she did it because of the smoke.

"’Like a magpie, on the right path, the path that takes me home~’ Doesn’t it sound like you are led down the right path? As if not everything is in your hands and on your shoulders? It should be like this."

"Is there someone leading us?" I ask her, and she looks at me sitting in the backseat through the rearview mirror; she grimaces, looking sad but also smiling.

"No, baby. In reality, there is only yourself."