Chapter 6
It wasn't the kind of impact that came from being beaten or trampled. Something like a heavy curtain dropped over me, plunging everything into darkness. Startled, I opened my eyes a crack, only to hear a man's coarse, violent scream ringing through the cloth that enfolded me.
I recognized it. It was the sound of violence. With my vision blocked, I panted for breath and strained my ears. Someone was striking and kicking the man, driving him away.
The man’s voice, which had been grumbling in aggrieved indignation, quickly turned terrified and receded into the distance. Once my eyes adjusted to the dimness, I looked down at the fabric I was absently clutching. It was a heavy cloak, rough to the touch like a wool blanket. It smelled faintly of dust and dry grass.
“Eek!”
When a sudden pair of hands gripped both of my shoulders to pull me to my feet, I flailed about, trying to push off the cloak, but it was no easy task. Even though I couldn't see a thing, the grip shoved me relentlessly forward.
How long was I dragged along, stumbling in that grip? A low voice echoed from above my head.
The moment the cloak was pulled away, a firm shove struck my back. I scrambled not to fall, but after struggling through a few clumsy steps, I ended up tumbling down. Fortunately, I caught the floor with my hands before my knees could hit hard.
Blinking, I found myself facing a corridor with a faint light visible far off at the end. As I looked around, feeling completely dazed, a man and a woman carrying drinks walked by, eyeing me with strange looks.
I glanced back over my shoulder, but no one particularly stood out. The people who had been chattering among themselves were all surging toward the stage, perhaps because the show was about to start.
My heart hammered as though it might shatter right through my ribs. I would likely never set foot in this place again. Clutching my skirt in a hurry, I sprinted down the corridor on trembling legs.
Slipping past the latecomers trickling in, I hurried up the stairs until cool, clean air finally washed over me like a wave. I drew a breath so deep my chest felt ready to burst. It felt as though I had been dragged to the brink of hell and returned alive.
Perhaps because everyone had gone inside the theater, the street had grown deserted. After breathing deeply for a long while, I finally managed to take a step and start walking. My entire body was drenched in sweat.
I tried hard to pull my blank thoughts together, but before I knew it, a sudden rush of tears welled up and wet my cheeks. Shock and sorrow, bewilderment and humiliation tore through me like a whirlwind.
What would have happened if someone hadn't helped me back then? I would have been dragged away in that man's grasp, stripped bare and lying prostrate like Senar, suffering sheer indignity.
It struck me all at once that today wouldn't be the end of it. Things like this would happen all the time from now on. An increase in men making passes at me meant more men would look at me with those kinds of eyes.
A tremor ran through my entire body. The tears spilled over without stopping.
Why do people have to go on living? Nothing good ever comes from being alive anyway.
Not a single thing could be done of my own will. I was no different from a weed on the street. Meaningless to everyone, a creature whose life or death went unnoticed.
Clenching my teeth through my sobs, I eventually stopped in my tracks. Bathed only in the serene moonlight, the road was dead silent. Hearing the distant howl of a wild animal, I stared vacantly in that direction.
If something ended up eating me instead, wouldn't that beast at least be happy?
Possessed by such a thought out of nowhere, I veered off the road and turned toward the darkness. As I listened intently to the sound of weeds crushing beneath my feet, I suddenly flinched.
There was someone else in this space besides me.
My shrunken heart began thumping wildly once more. The flushed, oily face of that man, exhaling his revolting breath, flashed before my eyes.
Quickly, I scooped up a piece of wood that caught my eye. It had a sharp, jagged end, perhaps split and broken during the recent storm.
If this life was meaningless anyway, I wasn't going to just take it lying down. If someone laid a hand on my body again, I would stab him to death, climb the mountain, and throw myself off the cliff.
I had nothing to lose.
Because I had nothing to begin with.
As I cautiously took a step forward, I sensed a presence behind me. Hearing that rustle close the distance bit by bit, my whole body froze rigid. Gripping the piece of wood until my knuckles cracked, the instant I felt another person's warmth right at my back, I swung it like a blade.
Regrettably, the strike delivered with all my strength had no effect. My opponent caught the piece of wood without the slightest effort and twisted my arm around in a flash. The moment I screamed in pain and dropped the wood, he snatched it up.
The sharp tip of the wooden branch now pointed straight at me. Dropping tears at the futile outcome, I lifted my head. Death had come far closer than I had imagined.
A voice with a low resonance echoed dryly through the empty air. Standing tall before my eyes was a man cloaked in black like a shadow.
Watching him mutter under his breath and lightly toss the piece of wood to the side, I stammered in fear.
There was an odd touch of familiarity in that casual, somewhat blunt tone. What was more, being addressed as ‘little lady’ for the first time in my life left me utterly bewildered.
With the cloak flowing down his broad shoulders, he truly felt like an imposing god of death. As my eyes went wide, the man, whose face sat two heads higher than mine, tilted his head slightly. Thanks to that, the faint moonlight reached his features.
Beautiful green gems gleamed. I could faintly see deep-set eyes and the high bridge of a nose. Only then did that voice, carrying a languid air as if mingled with a sigh, align with the voice in my memory.
“…Fa—Father?”
In an instant, the tension drained away, leaving my shoulders slumping limp. Catching the relief that rose in my eyes, he gave a slight flick of his brow and pushed back the hood he was wearing. And in that moment, I understood his words completely.
If you can see which flowers draw the bees, you can see the reason for the opposite as well.
His pitch-black hair was slightly disheveled, but it didn't look unkempt. The sharp line of his eyes lent him a cool demeanor, while simultaneously radiating an intensity so fierce it could never be forgotten once seen.
The harmony between his straight nose and firmly set lips resembled one of the gods from the mythological picture book Laurel had given me.
Though he called to mind Parki, the harbinger of chaos and despair, rather than Giere, the kind and benevolent god of mercy, he was the most flawlessly beautiful human being I had ever seen in my life. It felt as though everything in this world existed merely to make him shine.
It was as if time had stopped. Unable to tear my gaze away from that face, which looked as though it belonged in a dream, he spoke indifferently.
At those words, the breath I had been holding finally escaped. Moistening my parched lips, I blinked.
His eyes were beautiful, but not warm. To put it simply, they carried the chill of winter. As though they could pierce straight through a person's heart without a second thought.
Yet that made me feel all the more at ease. The sense of distance carved out by his gaze felt rather comfortable.
I wasn't used to making requests like this, but I gathered my courage.
Partly because I didn't feel confident I could make it home safely on my own, but also because, seeing that he had followed me, I felt glad and thankful, and wanted to speak with him a little longer.
However, the cold expression on his face as he looked down at me in silence was practically saying I was a nuisance. Just as I braced myself, he gave an unexpectedly agreeable nod.
Heat rushed to my face in sudden embarrassment. Putting on as calm an expression as I could, I shook my head with solemn dignity.
Answering nonchalantly, he strode ahead. Quickly scrubbing my face with both hands, I followed after him.
Until just a moment ago, this forest path had been nothing more than a road leading to endless despair.
A predictable fate, hardly worth living. A speck of dust whose loss to a wild beast would leave no one to mourn. The solitary, lonesome wandering of someone with no reason to be born and no reason to go on living.
Yet with just the presence of a person walking half a step ahead, the forest path took on an entirely different hue. At the very least, the urge to throw myself to the beasts just to make them happy was gone.
Trailing hesitantly behind him, I blurted out.
