The Truth About No. 13
It was 9 a.m. The clock had just struck the hour, and I should have gone in, yet my hand remained frozen on the doorknob. I couldn't name the feeling twisting inside me. Betrayal? No, it wasn't that. Disappointment, then? I'd already read the reports, so why was I hesitating now?
The door slid open with a soft druruk. Scarlet's red hair swayed as she turned toward me with a bright smile, and I forced my lips into an awkward curve.
"You're here. Um… did you have breakfast?"
"…"
"I was waiting so we could eat together…"
But it was no use. My expression stiffened almost immediately. I truly didn't know. I couldn't understand it at all.
"…Counselor?"
The truth was, I didn't want to understand.
"Is something wrong?"
Even the sight of her waiting for me, letting the food grow cold, and the worried look she gave me now—why did it all feel so hateful?
"Scarlet."
"Hm?"
"…"
I called her name, but nothing followed. I didn't even know what I wanted to say. The words were there, pressing against my throat, yet no sound came out.
"…Really, is something wrong?"
She had noticed something was off. Her face grew more puzzled.
Don't make that face.
The sharp, silent mutter startled me. It was mine.
I had seen it. Or rather, I had lived it. Thanks to Founder-nim's encouragement, I had pushed my ability hard today. Team Leader once told me that overusing one's power to the point of disconnection could sometimes bring about changes upon recovery—changes that leaned toward strengthening. I had hoped for it, but nothing had felt different during rehabilitation, so I had let it slip from my mind.
Yet the change had been there all along. I simply hadn't tried.
My ability to connect minds had always required conditions: the other person had to be within my perception, and I had to wish for them to feel what I felt. Naturally, this new evolution demanded new conditions.
This morning I had connected with No. 13 again and succeeded in calming her. But when I pressed further, asking why she was so anxious, and she stayed silent, a fierce desire to know what had happened to her surged through me—and suddenly a completely different scene overlaid my vision.
It was a memory. No. 13's memory. Specifically, every cruel act Scarlet had inflicted on her.
The images unfolded from my own viewpoint, vivid and searing, as though I had experienced them myself. Even knowing they weren't mine, they lingered, refusing to fade.
"Why… did you do that?"
"…?"
I had spoken without thinking.
"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that so suddenly…"
I was the one who needed to stay calm more than anyone. I had to remember why I was here. I wasn't here to condemn or reprimand her. I was her counselor, not a judge of right and wrong.
"Shall we eat first?"
"Mm, no… You look like you have something to say."
It was the best I could manage, but she was right. Forcing a meal in this atmosphere would have been in poor taste.
Clink… clack.
Scarlet set the tray aside and nodded, ready to listen. I kept trying to push away the nervous expressions, the scolding voices, the cold sneers that kept flashing over her face in my mind.
"…I've been counseling No. 13 as well as you."
"No. 13? That kid's here too?"
"She tried to kidnap me to use as a hostage to save you, but she got caught again."
Since external information was strictly blocked, she hadn't known Dorothy was being held here. The room was right across the hall, yet she had never suspected.
"I need to ask. Why were you so cruel to No. 13?"
I had softened the question as much as possible. This time, the silence stretched from her side.
Habitual violence, verbal abuse, forcing her to move even while blood streamed from her nose and mouth, and even… using her like a toy to satisfy her own desires. I had already lived those memories. Half-hearted excuses or deflection would solve nothing.
"You won't claim it was all to earn favor, will you?"
"…"
My breathing kept hitching as I spoke. My head felt ready to split. Until yesterday I had believed that if she showed proper remorse, I could help her break free of her past. But now that I had shared the victim's memories of her unprovoked malice, my thoughts had flipped completely.
What is this? I was being swept away again. This wasn't right. There were no clear lines between black and white here—only shades of gray, some darker under shadow, others catching faint light.
"No. 13… Yeah, that's right."
After a brief silence, she finally spoke—not in denial or excuse, but acceptance.
"What do you mean, 'that's right'?"
"I tormented her because of my own feelings. She… didn't do anything wrong."
"Then why…"
If she had done nothing wrong, why treat her with such malice? I couldn't understand, and my confusion showed plainly on my face.
"…It's natural you wouldn't understand. I'll explain. I was jealous of No. 13. That's why I tormented her so viciously. There was no other reason."
"Why? No. 13 was in far worse conditions than you…! No, wait—this isn't… I have no right to compare who had it harder."
I had raised my voice without meaning to, even making a comparison I had no place making. Scarlet accepted it quietly.
"…No, you're right. No. 13 was an experimental subject combining demonic authority with her ability. She endured far more horrific days than any other prisoner."
"Experimental subject…?"
"I don't know the details. All I know is that they used demon blood in those experiments."
The hypothesis Team Leader and I had only guessed at had already been carried out as human experimentation by the Inquisition. Or rather, according to their doctrine, prisoners were worth less than lab rats, so it was simply ordinary experimentation.
"I'll tell you everything honestly. I hated that her number was higher than mine."
"Her number…? You did all that just because of that…?!"
Because she was No. 13 while Scarlet was No. 18? Truly… for such an absurd reason?
"Just because…? It was different for me. I had bowed my head to make up for my failure and seek revenge, but he ordered me to work with No. 13."
"…"
"Yeah, it's natural he thought I couldn't handle it alone after one failure… but he valued that ragged little thing's ability more than mine."
Her brow furrowed deeply. For the first time in a long while, I saw the face she had worn when we first met.
"The sense of defeat tore my chest apart… You… probably could never understand."
"Inferiority… is it?"
"Inferiority? No. I simply hated No. 13 so much that I wanted to kill her for receiving more attention from him than I did."
That seemed to be all there was to it for her. Nothing more.
"That was everything to me… I struggled desperately just to catch his eye once more, to hear one more word of praise. But… haa, now it's all meaningless. I… I'm definitely a horrible woman."
She smiled faintly, as if relieved, yet I could see it was forced. It was awkward and clumsy. Her eyes looked terribly empty, at odds with the smile on her lips.
"Sorry. I ended up telling you something unpleasant. But I said I'd tell you everything honestly, so I had no choice."
"…"
"You told me I could become happier… Do you still think that?"
That resigned expression, as if everything was already over, made something hot rise in my chest.
"Why do I hate saying these things in front of you so much?"
"Scarlet…"
"I… I'm really selfish. Even knowing it's my fault… I hate that kid who changed you so much?"
"Scarlet!"
My raised voice finally cut the conversation short.
"…"
An uncomfortable silence fell between us. The small table separating us felt impossibly wide today.
…But I reached out.
"…?"
My hand crossed the table and gripped her wrist firmly. When I stood, she could have resisted, yet she let herself be pulled along without a word.
"…I have never told you to give up on your happiness, nor have I ever said you don't deserve it."
"Counselor?"
"So…!"
She was trying to run away now that her shameful flaws had been exposed—selfish and difficult to watch, just as she had said herself.
…I would never let her escape.
"…Shut your mouth and follow me."