Chapter 26: Won't You Come to the City with Me?

It was revolting. They knelt and begged, spewing words they hadn't the mind to understand, and those fools sickened her. They swore they would offer everything while remaining certain the offering would never be themselves. Foolish. They covered their eyes and stopped their ears and still craved a pittance of power. Arrogant. They were convinced that begging alone would be rewarded. Loathsome. And then the sloth of it—people who could do nothing at all, and only told themselves that things ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠would simply get better.

Ah. How sad.

"Why do you bow your heads among them? You must not be like that."

"Don't look at me with those eyes. I am nothing but a child. I am no apostle sent down by a god. So look at me as you used to. Wipe the madness away. Gather me up in your love. Please……."

"Mother……. Father……."

Her eyes snapped open.

"Hah…… hah……."

A nightmare. A foul one. She had thought it forgotten. She had thought it overcome. Whatever waited on the far side of consciousness had, it seemed, refused.

"……Damn it."

So this was the dream that came after all that time. A bitter lot was nothing new to her. This was bitter past all measure.

Step. Step.

"……Footsteps?"

She had been gasping with an arm flung over her eyes when the sound hauled her back to herself. The last thing she remembered was collapsing on the bare ground. Now she was lying under a blanket.

"My body……."

It didn't hurt. Only a little while ago pain had been stabbing through every corner of her, and now, sweat aside, nothing was wrong. She pushed herself up. By the pillow lay a towel and a basin of water. Someone had nursed her with their own hands.

"……Who in the world."

She could only stare, struck dumb. Who had come all the way out here and tended her themselves?

"Are you awake?"

The door rattled open. She flinched at the sound, yanked the blanket up on instinct, and turned her eyes toward it.

A masked man came in carrying a tray.

"……What are you doing here?"

The masked man sat down beside her.

"Didn't I say I would come?"

She dug through her memory. He had spouted some nonsense about coming the next day. But the barrier ought to have kept him out. That was how it was supposed to work.

"A locked door means nothing to a Phantom Thief."

"……What?"

Ha. Arrogant to the bone—and yet there he stood, so she couldn't deny it.

"……You were the one who nursed me?"

"Yes. You'd collapsed on the floor. I don't know when I've been so startled."

She chased a faint memory back. Yes. His mask had definitely surfaced in it.

"So you really left me untouched. How very decent of you."

"……What do you mean?"

He was wearing a mask, and still the puzzlement showed.

"Didn't you come to use me? Weak as I am now, this would be the perfect chance."

The filth from before would have drooled and called it a gift.

"You came because you want something too, didn't you……!"

The black holes of the mask blinked.

"……Are you still hurting somewhere?"

"……Are you mocking me?"

So he'd been seen through, and now he was bluffing. The panic was plain as day.

"What, should I have kidnapped a patient off the floor?"

"And why wouldn't you?"

He shook his head, slowly, from side to side.

"I want a partnership. I don't want a slave."

"……Nonsense."

A partnership? With him? If he were a human being, she might at least have weighed it. How was she supposed to join hands with something that was neither a person nor alive?

"Enough of that. At least eat some porridge."

"As if I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠would eat such a—"

The smell that rushed up her nose stopped the thought cold. How could mere porridge smell like this? It wasn't like that thing called chicken. This was a healthy smell, vivid and alive, and threaded through it was the smell of the sea.

"……What is this?"

This could not be porridge. There was no such thing as porridge you had to chew the way you chewed a proper meal…….

"Beef, abalone, and vegetable porridge."

"……What kind of porridge needs that many titles?"

And what? Beef? Abalone? She had stirred vegetables from her own garden into porridge before. But meat—in porridge? Beef, of all things? That precious stuff? And abalone, rarer still? Did he have any idea what abalone was?

"The chicken didn't even surprise you. Why is porridge such a shock?"

"……Shocked? And what, precisely, is supposed to have surprised me?"

Her reaction had been too much, and she knew it. This was no longer the Joseon dynasty. Beef and abalone were things a person could have whenever they pleased.

"These days, if you have money, you can get anything."

"And who do you think doesn't know that?"

Living on a mountain did not mean she was ignorant of the world. She could watch it from afar with her own eyes, or read it in Heaven's omens.

"It's not as if you live in those days yourself."

"……Enough chatter. Hand over the porridge."

She snatched the bowl from the impudent man. Hmph. Let him wag his tongue elsewhere. Carefully she cupped it in both hands, and the warmth eased something in her. She lifted the spoon. A generous piece of abalone sat in it, vegetables tucked grain by grain through the rice, and beef in little gleaming bits. Her mouth watered. Even the look of it was something out of a dream.

She put it in her mouth.

"Mmm."

Delicious. No other word was needed.

"Have some salted squid and soy-braised beef with it."

"Mm? Braised beef? Salted squid?"

Small plates of side dishes crowded the tray. Crimson squid. Dark meat. Heavens—beef, eaten on top of beef porridge, and squid besides! Since when did indulgence like this exist? It was too good to pick at piece by piece. She upended the braised beef and the salted squid straight into the porridge.

"If you do that, it really won't taste—"

He was saying something at her side. She didn't hear a word of it. Chomp. Chomp. This rapture had to be tasted now.

"Ghk—!"

Her throat closed. She had eaten too fast.

"Here. Water……."

She snatched the cup and drank. Even the water was delicious. Day after day she had drunk only the water she made with her power, and this was another thing entirely. She drained it, went back to the bowl, and scraped it clean to the glaze.

"……Haa."

She breathed out and lingered in the aftertaste. The flavor still shimmered.

"That was the best thing I have ever tasted."

An honesty she couldn't hide had slipped out of her.

"I'm glad it was good."

"Mm?"

Half-lidded, loose from the meal, she turned her head. The mask was grinning at her.

"……What."

"Was it that good?"

"……Ah. The finest taste there is."

She rubbed her stomach. She was full to the brim.

"Thank you for eating so heartily."

"Yeah, yeah. You're not entirely usele—"

Wait.

The mind the food had bought was slowly coming back to her.

What did I just do?

A moment ago she had been nothing but hostile. One meal, and she had come undone like this. She was no better than a beast.

"Y-you—!!! You saw all of that?!"

Her skin burned.

"Yes. I saw it very well. Watching was enough to fill me up."

"Grrk—!!!"

Her teeth ground. That Smiling Mask grated on her. She wanted to throw him out this instant, but her strength hadn't returned, and it was no easy thing.

"Get out! Out!"

Not that she was incapable of hitting him.

Whack. Whack.

She beat him with the pillow. The wooden neck-rest had become a club.

"Is this any way to treat ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the person who nursed you?!"

"I never asked you to! Get out!"

"That's a harsh thing to say!"

"Your existence is harsher!"

The man under the pillow scrambled out of range. He did not leave. He wedged himself into a corner of the room.

"You—! Are you making a fool of me?!"

"How am I supposed to walk out on a patient?!"

"I know my own body best! You aren't even a doctor—where do you get the nerve to run your mouth!"

She lurched.

"Kh—!"

She had tried to stand on the heat of her anger, and the strength ran clean out of her legs.

"Blast—!"

Just before she fell, he was there, catching her.

"You're unwell, and still you push yourself."

"……I don't need help."

A trifle like this would mend with a little rest.

"Don't be so stubborn. You've never lived a day without taking someone's help."

"……What would you know."

"So you never have?"

She couldn't answer that she hadn't. That would have been an insult to those people.

"And this house. Someone built it for you, didn't they?"

Carefully, he laid her back on the bedding.

"……How did you know?"

"For a house this old, there are signs it's been looked after."

He was right. For a long time this house had been kept by the care of a single family.

"I'm no doctor. That doesn't mean I can't tell when someone is sick."

He drew the blanket over her.

"Rest well. I'll be going."

"……Are you coming back?"

What am I saying…….

He looked at her for a moment, then nodded.

"You're still a patient. Of course I should come."

He left the words behind, opened the door, and was gone. She stared at the door as it shut, lonely in its frame. She had been the one shouting at him ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to get out. Now that he had, why was the room so cold?

She brushed a hand over the floor. A living warmth still lingered there.

"……Are you still hungering for affection?"

She had thought she'd already let it go, that day. And a scrap of kindness was enough to sway her.

"……Given time, this too will pass."

Hesitation never lasted long. She would go back to what she had been.

"……As I always have."

"Won't you come to the city with me?"

"……What?"

And what, exactly, was this man going on about now?