So I Can Still Live

Hong Yumin faltered. The rough trembling of her eyes spoke for everything she felt.

"I'll help you."

The sickness eating her alive. Akho. The reason an immortal like her had turned her back on the world and lived in hiding. He was saying he would help her put an end to it.

"…What are you scheming?"

Hong Yumin's gaze sank.

"From the look of you, you've picked up something somewhere…"

"And you think picking something up would be enough to know Akho exists?"

I would swear to it. Counting me, only three beings knew of Akho. She must have known I was right; Hong Yumin bit down on her lip.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Ha! Fine. Then how do you mean to resolve it?"

A distrust rooted deep sat in her eyes. Even she, an immortal, had failed to deal with the monster and had only let the years go by. Her distrust was only natural.

"…If you accept the offer, I'll tell you."

I wanted to say it outright. I couldn't. She didn't trust me, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and if I spelled out the method she would never listen.

"…Your little trick has a plausible ring to it."

Hong Yumin flung my hand away, hard.

"…Begone. Do not come again."

My body was driven backward. I worked my feet to run, and still I could not go forward.

I'm being banished!

It couldn't end like this!

"I'll come again tomorrow!"

"Try, if you like. From this day on, you and I shall never meet."

With those words I was suddenly at the mouth of the mountain. I looked up at it, heavy-hearted.

"…Is time the answer?"

Hong Yumin was someone I would need if I was to weather the trials ahead. But opening a heart that had stayed shut for so long was no easy thing. The years heaped up inside her were a sea, and to part that sea and draw her out would be harder than anything else.

"…Don't rush."

I am a Phantom Thief. I can open whatever is closed, and I can break through whatever has been barred. A person's heart is no different.

"This is only the beginning."

I turned my back on the mountain, already turning over what I would do tomorrow.

"Impudent brat."

Hong Yumin set her long pipe between her teeth. She drew deep and let the smoke go. In a single breath the throbbing pain in her heart eased, and the clarity of it loosened her body.

"…The same as ever. A wretch who does not know his place."

In several hundred years, the flies that had buzzed about her could be counted on one hand. Smitten by her face. Smitten by her power. Hungry for authority. Things that made her want to wash her eyes merely for having looked at them. And the worst of them, of course…

Crack!

The pipe in her hand snapped.

"…Hah."

For a moment a foul memory rose, and she failed to hold her strength. She swept her hand and buried the pipe in the earth, then called it back out. A whole pipe settled into her grasp. She packed it with powdered herbs and set it to her lips again.

"Hah."

Throb. Throb. The pain in her heart returned.

"…It will need mending."

She wiped the blood running from her mouth and stretched out a foot. One step spanned the distance. The second brought the journey to its end. In only two strides she stood at her destination.

A small cave waited there, its mouth barely showing. The entrance was plastered over with rope, talismans, and every manner of written character. Hong Yumin peered in closely. Talismans burned down to ash and ropes snapped clean through littered the cave and threw it into disorder.

"…It is badly broken."

A single gap had brought the seal down. A little later, and it would have shattered. The great evil within flashed its eyes, cunning.

A growl rolled out of the cave. At that sound of death, fire roared up before her eyes—a wicked flame meant to annihilate the seal.

"Not a chance."

She opened a wound in her palm. Blood fell into the cave.

Splash! Splash!

Drop by drop, the blood burst forth like a fountain. She clenched her hand and swung, scattering it, soaking the cave.

The scattered blood swelled and became a wave. It purified the profane qi. It dammed the will behind it.

Kyaaaak!

Thud. Thud. The cave shook as if a door were rattling in its frame. The bindings tangled over it fell away, and the more of them piled upon the ground, the more sweat beaded on her brow. Her eyes alone shone bright.

Blood surged up and burst from her mouth. She stopped it with one hand. It was a dark crimson, different from the red already spread across the ground.

She drew a circle in blood. One side she filled with red; the other she left empty. A rippling current opened the space between them and made a vast law of it. It was a small taegeuk, the wheel of yin and yang. The red taegeuk turned.

Flash!

The spinning taegeuk burst. Where it had been, a true taegeuk of pure white and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠black took its place. The blood that had held contamination was purified, and the shaking cave grew still. A round membrane formed about the taegeuk and wrapped the cave. The sacred film blended into nature and hid the defilement.

Hong Yumin pressed a talisman to the center. At that the cave grew faint and vanished without a trace.

"Cough! Cough!"

Blood overflowed her mouth. What passed her knees and soaked her feet made a foul sound as it burned through her clothes. In a heat as if she had been scalded, she conjured water and purified the blood.

"…You have grown stronger."

No. She had grown weaker. Spending her blood to hold it back had bought her one move, but in exchange her life had been shaved away.

"How much longer can I endure?"

Something creaked, tightening. Heaven's answer, ringing faint and far. It was a binding. Fate compelled her.

Did it truly have to be so? Do You wish to see me made a fool? Does it please You that every day is agony?

She had begged for an answer. She had pleaded for a way to end it. The times were beyond counting. And truly, was this how it must be? What, in the end, did Heaven want of her? For what was she still alive?

Hong Yumin looked up at the sky.

"What is it that I cannot escape?"

Answer me. Is it fate? Is it ruin? Or is it a person?

"Can You not tell me even that much?"

But as if to make a mockery of her wish, Heaven remained Heaven.

"……"

She brushed off her legs and rose. Worn thin, she had for a moment lost her bearing. A wish without meaning, a wait without promise. As always, she would accept it with humility. It was for the sake of those who had once been ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠kind to her. The sin of having failed to protect them. The sin of not having been strong enough.

"…Let us go back."

She dragged her feet. The same life would be waiting again—a loneliness buried and buried until there was nowhere left to bury it.

"…Why do you cling so foolishly? Foolish Hong Yumin."

Was this not the path she had chosen? Was it not she who had refused help? Then why was she so wretched? Only she was miserable.

She hauled her exhausted body home. When she stepped inside, food shoved into a corner caught her eye.

"…This is…"

Was it not the worldly food that impudent brat had left behind? Fried chicken, wasn't it. She had cleared away what was filthy, yet something whole had remained.

Her stomach growled. At the sight of it, she was hungry.

"…It is food. It would not do to waste it."

She swallowed. The memory of a single bite rose in her. The crisp crunch of it had been bliss, and schooling the expression that had nearly fallen apart had been no small ordeal. She sat. At that ordinary act, it felt as if her body would break. She clenched her teeth, endured, and opened the wrapping.

A sharp, savory fragrance stung her nose.

"Oh."

The sigh of wonder came of itself. Was that pickled radish inside? There was salt as well. She scattered the salt over the chicken any which way and lifted the lid from the radish. With the disposable fork packed inside, she speared a piece. Time had passed and it had gone cold, but it had not lost its dignity.

"…I receive this meal."

Crunch. Crunch. She savored it: the rustling crust, the oil bursting under her teeth, the salt's brine laying itself over the grease, the smooth meat giving way, soft. Without thinking she ate the radish, then the chicken again. When she came back to herself, there was nothing left to eat. Not even the radish broth.

"I did not know a taste like this existed…"

Drip. Drip. Drops gathered.

"Truly, a taste I shall not forget."

When had she last eaten without thinking? When had she last felt happiness?

So I was still alive. I thought I could feel nothing anymore.

"…Truly… truly."

How long had it been since something a person's hands had touched had reached her? A drop fell. What fell was anguish, and a loneliness stacked upon itself through the years. The girl—still, in her heart, so very young—found the strength to live through tomorrow. In a room where no one else was, she wept without a sound.

"Cough. Cough."

She spat a dry cough. A body driven past its limit did not heal easily, and it tormented her.

"…I may truly die."

It hurt. Her throat was parched, and her skin felt ready to burn. The cough would not stop, and even a mouthful of water was hard to get down. At a pain she had never known, her mind grew hazy.

"…This must not happen."

She must not lose consciousness. If something happened while her mind was gone…

A thud. What was that sound? After the impudent brat had left, she had strengthened the barrier. No one should have been able to enter.

"Excuse me. Is anyone there?"

"This… voice…?"

It was yesterday's masked wretch. But how? No—that was not what mattered. Before he did something, she had to move…

She swayed. The world spun. Unable to rise, she collapsed onto the floor. Was this the end? Her eyelids were heavy. Ah. If she slept like this, what would become of her?

The door opened. Sunlight came in and made a shadow. Someone entered.

"——!"

Her eyes slowly closed. What were the last words she had heard? She could no longer tell. For now, she wanted to rest.