Awls That Pierce the Pocket
While Yejin and the other girls gathered clothes and daily necessities, and the men grunted under the heavier loads, I packed the most important things carefully into a double bag.
"...Uh, hyung-nim. Isn't that heavy?"
I stuffed every scrap of food I could manage into the double bag plus a massive hiking pack, then lifted the whole thing without effort. Haejun, who'd rushed over to help, just stared in disbelief.
The instant noodles packed brick-tight were one thing, but the bag was also full of canned goods and even whole sacks of rice. The weight should have been enormous. It felt like I was picking up an empty bag.
"You wrestle zombies a few times and you'll be able to lift this much no problem."
"...Ahem. I'm not sure those two things are related."
Haejun coughed awkwardly and eyed me sideways. Honestly, I couldn't blame him for the look. The way I looked right now, it would have been stranger if he hadn't been staring.
Being covered in blood wasn't even surprising anymore, but my clothes looked like someone had taken a knife to them. Anyone would start inventing wild stories about what the hell had happened to me.
"Still, a guy staring like that is kind of rude, so cut it out."
"Huh? Ah—yes, sir."
As if I needed more of it—Kim Yejin and the rest were already looking at me with something uneasy in their eyes.
I was thinking that when my gaze crossed Chaeyeon's as she passed the front door. Her eyes locked onto me, glittering with something completely different from the worry and concern in Yejin's.
"Oppa, what on earth did you fight to end up like that? Did you run into a yakuza with a katana or something? Did you?"
"God, just read the room for once, you little—"
Soeun ground her teeth and dragged her away by the arm. Then she glanced back at me, brushed her slightly sweat-damp bangs aside, and spoke carefully.
"I'm glad you made it back safe. Ajeo—no. Oppa."
"...Uh. Thanks?"
Whatever they'd talked about during that short trip to the school, the way she treated me had softened overnight. It felt like I'd scooped a hissing ball of fur off the street, fed it once, and suddenly it was purring.
"Hyung-nim. I've put every bit of food from our place in here."
"Yeah."
I watched Soeun and Chaeyeon bicker their way down the stairs, then took the second double bag Jonghun held out. I turned to him.
"By the way—why'd you suddenly start calling me hyung-nim? You were always just 'ssi'-ing me before."
"Uh... you suddenly switched to informal speech on me, hyung-nim, so I just... without thinking..."
"Ah. Right. My head's been a mess. Sorry."
"Not at all. It's an honor, actually."
"...?"
An honor? What honor?
I paused at the nonsense, but we were short on time, so I let it go. As we headed down with the food, I tossed another line at Jonghun trailing behind me.
"You don't even need the 'nim.' Hell, just talk casually."
"No, no! How could I possibly—"
"...??"
I looked at him, half-wondering if he was messing with me. His genuine fluster only made the confusion worse.
What was wrong with this kid?
Had everyone eaten something weird?
Even hurrying, packing for the move still took over thirty minutes.
Under a sky slowly bleeding red with sunset, Hyunmin came last with bicycle parts for weapons, and then everyone piled into the van.
I'd meant to drive myself—until I realized I was the only one who could clear obstacles off the road. I sighed and climbed out of the driver's seat.
"Hey, Jonghun. You can drive, right?"
"Uh, well. I do have a license... but, uh, actual experience..."
"So can you or can't you?"
"I can!"
I gave him a flat look as he gripped the wheel with pure tension written all over his face, then trudged forward with my iron pipe.
I'd already cleaned up around the villa, so there were no corpses in plain sight—but better safe than sorry.
Some bastard might try to bite a tire clean off. Stay sharp.
I wasn't about to lose this precious ride the way I'd lost that bicycle this morning.
I practically bulged my eyes open and waved Jonghun forward.
"Start it up and move. I'll call the route as we go—just don't hit anything."
"Yes, hyung-nim!"
While the whole group huddled inside the van, I was out alone clearing the path. Yejin watched me, fretting, chewing her nails—until she finally couldn't take it and started to open the window to call out. I shot her a look full of pure irritation first.
She got it without a word by now: if they tried to "help" and got themselves into danger, it'd only make more work for me. Stay put.
She pressed her lips tight and hung her head. Beside her, Yujin and Sujin looked back and forth between us with complicated faces, clearly wondering what their sister was thinking.
And then, right on cue, Chaeyeon stuck to her own path and poked her head out the window.
"Oppa? Oppa? Can I help? Please?"
"Just stay there. If you go and—"
"I promise I won't be a burden. Just let me lend a hand. Once."
"...Haa."
Soeun was desperately trying to stop her beside her, and Chaeyeon ignored her completely, eyes locked only on my answer. I met her gaze and spoke.
"Fine. But if something happens and you become dead weight—"
"From then on I'll do whatever Oppa says. Anything."
She stood, quietly fastening the gold fencing foil at her waist as she said it. Honestly, when a girl went that far, you kind of had to take her at her word once—if only to see where the confidence came from.
"Hey! Are you actually insane?!"
As Chaeyeon started to climb out, Soeun hissed in her ear that she'd lost her mind. Chaeyeon whispered back just as soft.
"I'm not crazy. I'm just embarrassed."
"What?"
"Come on. I know how to kill zombies. I know how to handle people. And yet some of us are out here guarding the van while others hide inside it."
Like she was some little kid or something.
Soeun muttered, looking floored.
"Im Chaeyeon, if you're a minor, you are a kid. Compared to that guy, even you—"
"When did I say I wanted to compete? I just want to pull my own weight even if I'm taking help."
"...Fine. You're amazing."
In the end Soeun just sat there, staring up at her with exhausted eyes, then sighed and turned away.
Chaeyeon stepped down from the van with a soft, high-school-girl grace, fussed with the skirt that covered her knees, then looked back inside. She threw a wink at Yejin—who was watching her with a thoroughly gloomy face—and came jogging over like she was heading out for a stroll.
I watched her approach with a thoroughly unimpressed look. She sidled up beside me and parted her pink lips.
"Let's go, Oppa. You take the left side of the vehicle, I'll take the right. You're left-handed, so that'll be more comfortable for you, right?"
"Not sure what that has to do with positioning, but..."
I took a step back, trying to ignore the presence her midriff still managed to flaunt even wrapped in a boys' school uniform—and then I stopped.
"Wait. How do you even know I'm left-handed?"
"Huh? Just watching you fight, it was pretty obvious?"
She looked up at me with pure innocence, like she couldn't understand why I'd even ask.
"Oppa could tell something like that too, couldn't you?"
"...We haven't even known each other a full day, and you're already reading that—"
It was a tiny thing, but so absurd I was about to park the whole conversation and keep grilling her—when a wet, gurgling sound came from the alley.
"Grrrk?"
Chaeyeon and I turned at the same time.
Drawn by the engine noise, a middle-aged male corpse came shambling slowly into view.
Annoyance rose from deep in my gut. I frowned and started toward it—then a pale hand tugged at my sleeve.
"It came from the right side. So I can handle it, right?"
"...Fine. Give it a shot."
I said it with something like resignation. She beamed and drew the blade.
My eyes went to that white, slender sword on their own. For a second I thought I'd mis-seen the black bloodstains faintly marking it.
She actually had a record? A girl like her? Against corpses that ate people?
Thinking back to first impressions—standing unflinching in front of that insane bald corpse had been impressive enough—but I'd assumed the sword was pure decoration.
Even the front-door assault while I'd been gone: I'd figured reversing that criminal had been pure luck.
Maybe Yejin's image—always at my side since the end began—had quietly gotten painted over every other girl without me noticing.
Chaeyeon tossed the scabbard to the ground.
As she walked to meet the corpse dragging its guts behind it, her expression had already gone cold and hard.