If Only I'd Polished It One More Time
If only I'd polished it one more time.
My feet left the ground.
"Wh-whoa?!"
The rift was pulling me in. Dirt, debris — everything at once.
I had to hold on. The problem was that without a sword in my hands, I was no different from an ordinary elementary schooler.
If there'd been something — anything — to grab onto, maybe. But of course there was nothing nearby to catch hold of.
"By-Byeori?!"
Beside me, Nayeon tried to stand and immediately crumpled back down.
That rebound just now. The arms that had swung me around, the legs that had planted her on the ground — every last bit of strength had drained out of them.
Ah. This is getting a little dicey.
A cold ache bloomed through my chest, sharp enough to hurt.
"Hhk…"
The place where it had broken. Just like the day it broke.
Come back.
That was roughly the feeling of the energy pressing in from within. Not words, not a signal — but the meaning was unmistakable.
Come back…?
"…I don't want to."
Oh, come on. Who do you think you are, ordering me around?
I clenched my teeth and answered back.
"Who do you think you—"
Then.
Tszzt—!
Something tore past me at blinding speed.
A bolt of blue lightning. A streak of light that surged down the dark passage and vanished into the far end in a single breath.
The moment it carved a line across the thrashing rift, the force dragging my body cut out cold.
"……"
That was…
The sword aura that had flowed through my body three years ago.
Sword aura has a different texture for every person. Some run hot. Some run heavy.
It's hard to put into words, but that one had been cool and talkative — the kind that seeped all the way into the blade and made you feel like you were being forged sharper…
I hadn't known then.
That it was communion, handed down from a master.
I'd become a sword overnight and spent all my time wallowing in self-pity, after all.
Would anything have been different if I'd understood?
Would I have tried to pass something along? Please take care of me. Go a little easy on me.
"Hold on tight."
My waist lifted clean off the ground. A solid arm scooped me up and leapt backward in one motion.
Krrrrrr—
The rift sealed shut not long after we cleared the passage.
Of course it did. The thing it'd been after was gone, and on top of that it'd taken a stinging jolt of lightning…
…Or was that too neat? For something that had been thrashing like it meant to crush everything just moments ago.
Either way, the silver light of the rift faded. The reverse wind died down, and the mountainside that had been rumbling on the verge of collapse fell quiet.
08:02:11 · Surface Vibration 0.3
08:02:11 · Rift Stability: Critical → Caution
No Fatalities · Serious Injuries: 2 · Minor Injuries: 6
Someone in the control tent dropped into a seat with a thud.
And before I could even look that way—
"Give me my kid."
Jihyeon. She strode over with a hard set to her face, and the person holding me set me down without a word of protest.
Jihyeon shoved me behind her like she was hiding me, and the woman offered a sheepish smile and stepped back a little.
Four people in Association vests filled the gap at once.
"We'll need to verify a few things. The only person registered for rescue cooperation was the guildmaster. So why is a minor inside the control line—"
"You said the cause was unknown, correct?"
I'd figured something messy was coming. Jihyeon didn't hesitate — she flipped open her notebook.
"07:26. We reported the anomaly, and you said you'd put it on record. Under the squad leader's name."
"…That—"
"Radio went dead at 07:41. What exactly did the Association do during those fifteen minutes?"
"……"
Oof.
Misdirection!
Our side looks shady? Okay, fair!
But if you keep digging, we're dropping a bomb. Wasn't this whole mess your responsibility to begin with??
She really was the sole functioning brain keeping the Morning Star Guild afloat. An ordinary person would have folded and stammered through this. She didn't so much as blink.
When the one at the front fell silent, Jihyeon nudged her glasses up with a fingertip.
"Our kid wandered in by accident while goofing around, so how about we just let it go? Hmm. If we have to explain properly, I think we'd have to start with those fifteen minutes."
"…We'll take a statement for now."
The four of them backed off.
Only then did Jihyeon let out a breath. Her hands were trembling a little — I was the only one who saw it.
Nayeon was helped past the control line and collapsed the moment she cleared it.
Hope she's okay. She's a hunter, though — half a day of muscle soreness and she'll probably be bouncing around again, right?
She came to find me right after I'd finished scribbling out a half-hearted statement.
Behind the supply tent. I was poking holes in the dirt with a stick, waiting for Jihyeon to come out, when a familiar voice drifted down from above my head.
"…Are you all right?"
I flinched.
The memory of her whispering a name to me made my fingers go still for a second. I looked up like nothing was wrong.
"Yes. Thank you."
"Any injuries?"
"None."
"……"
A stretch of quiet.
She'd clearly come here with something to say, but she couldn't get the words out.
Well — if my memory served, this person had been a hardcore introvert. Even after becoming an S-rank hunter the whole world looked up to, that part of her apparently hadn't changed.
"Why… did you go there?"
That was what finally came out.
"It was dangerous."
It sounded like a scolding.
Hey, that place was dangerous — why'd you go? Like she was chewing me out.
But the eyes looking at me weren't an angry person's eyes. Not someone who wanted to lecture me — someone who wanted to confirm something.
Even she didn't seem to know what that something was.
"……"
…What do I even say.
The rift reacts to me? Then she'll ask why… ugh.
I picked the closest thing to the truth I could manage.
"…That place and I are, uh, kind of acquainted."
…Yeah, that still sounds ridiculous no matter how I rephrase it.
This time she looked at me for a long while.
"Acquainted?"
"Yes."
"With a dungeon?"
"…Something like that."
After a long silence, she said something completely unexpected.
"I had one too."
"Pardon?"
"An acquaintance… Not a dungeon. A sword."
"……"
"The one I used when I was a rookie."
She fretted at the hilt of her current sword — the one at her hip, far better than me.
"I named it myself. It was the first one that fit my hand just right."
…Ah.
This story.
The one I'd read on a screen a few nights ago—
"But when a better sword came along, I passed it off to someone else. Made up an excuse that it didn't fit my hand anymore."
The same story. Almost word for word.
I stared up at her blankly. She worked her hands open and closed with a calm face.
"I heard it broke last year. And then it was thrown away."
"……"
"After I handed it off, all I heard were rumors that it was doing well. Making the rounds among rankers, so I thought, good for it."
Well.
There had been a time like that.
S-rank gear hadn't flooded the market yet back then, so the "first in the country" title still carried real weight.
"I only heard it had broken this past spring. More than half a year after the fact."
"……"
"I thought about looking for it. I'm not a rookie anymore, and — it's embarrassing to say, but I've got a fair bit of money now. But…"
Her hand fell limp at her side.
"Disposal auctions keep the consignor anonymous, and they don't release records to private individuals. Nobody knew where it had gone."
"……"
"I keep thinking about it lately. Whose hands it was in at the end. Whether it hurt a lot when it broke."
Her hand drifted toward the grip of her new sword, then stopped.
"…The day I handed it over."
"Yes?"
"I should have… polished it one more time."
"……"
"I was busy that day, so I just passed it over in the case. I don't know why that sticks with me so long. Maybe… it must have hated me a lot, right?"
I remember that day.
The gleaming case. The way she carefully set me inside, and the look she gave me one last time.
And that was it.
No goodbye. No final cleaning.
It would be a lie to say I hadn't felt hurt.
But my name was still Byeori. I could have chosen a different one — and I'd deliberately picked this name and said it out loud.
If I'd truly hated you, I would have despised this name first.
I never hated you. Never resented you.
…Is something I can't say.
"……"
My throat closed up.
It wasn't the seal. Just turning it over in my mind was enough to choke me solid.
"That sword's name—"
Her words cut off short.
"…Haha. Never mind. I was just rambling… Sorry about that, kid."
She grinned and dusted her hands off with exaggerated flair.
Didn't want to go all the way into that story, apparently.
"About that sword."
This time I was the one who spoke.
"Hm?"
"It wouldn't hold a grudge."
Her shoulders trembled.
"Swords are surprisingly bad at holding grudges, you know."
"……"
"How could a sword hate the first master who gave it a name?"
"……"
She looked at me for a very long time.
Drew a breath in.
Let it out again.
"…That's strange."
"What is?"
"I heard those same words not long ago."
My heart kicked hard once.
"…From who?"
"Beats me. Someone whose name and face I don't know."
She huffed a quiet laugh.
"That person talked like they were a sword themselves. Like a friend."
Honestly…
What were the odds of a coincidence like this.
My first friend from Hunter Gallery.
And my first master.
Those two people turning out to be the same person, of all things.
"What's your name?"
"…Pardon?"
"Your name. Our cute little friend's name. I've heard it's pretty well-known."
She asked.
My mind went blank.
A name.
My current name.
…I probably shouldn't say it.
The family name was one thing, but the given name was Byeori. She wouldn't immediately decide I was that sword — but there was no reason to hand her a free lead…
"I'm—"
"Byeori! Kaaang Byeoori!"
She froze solid.
Breath.
Hands.
Eyes.
Widened eyes and stiffened lips tried to form two different expressions and tangled into one.
"Ah, I—"
"There you are! We finished the statements and the kid was just gone—"
Apparently she'd woken up sometime in the middle of this. Nayeon came staggering around the back of the tent, both arms swollen puffy.
The woman who'd been talking to me so warmly a second ago wiped every expression off her face in an instant. And then—
"…Excuse me."
She bowed once and turned away.
Her retreating back.
Her hand closed on the sword hilt once, then let go. Twice — she adjusted her grip.
On the ride back, I stared out the window the whole way.
"Byeori, does something hurt? Your face looks a little—"
"I'm fine."
"Then what's wrong?"
"…I'm just sleepy."
Is she going to be okay.
"……"
Sharing a name isn't enough for her to decide I'm that sword, but…
"Ugh."
…She won't, right?
My feelings were a complete mess.
That night, Hunter Gallery was noisy all over again.
"……"
Sword talk came up, but nothing particularly damning.
Good. The scenario Jihyeon was worried about probably wasn't happening.
I glanced at the chat window — SweetTourPerformance was offline.
"Ugh."
I shut off the computer. Sank deep into the couch and pulled the blanket up to my chin.
The moment I closed my eyes, the whole day came back in no particular order.
What stayed at the end was—
That sword's name—
The voice that had stopped right there.
"……"
Under the covers, too quiet for anyone to hear, I mumbled to myself.
"You didn't forget."
With all the countless swords that had passed through her hands, I'd figured a trash-tier like me would have been long gone from her mind.
"…Heheh."
A little.
No — a whole lot happy.
That same night.
The opposite side of the city, the top floor of a certain guild.
A woman sat on a sofa and unlocked her phone.
"…Ah."
SofaDweller.
The second she tapped the nickname and opened the chat, the other party flipped to offline.
Her finger stopped.
Just as well, honestly. What was I even going to send?
That elementary schooler I met today said something similar to you? And that kid's name happens to be the exact same name I gave a sword a long time ago?
"…."
Over the darkened chat window.
Tap. Tap-tap.
In the end she sent nothing and turned off the screen.
She murmured softly at the darkened window.
"…Kang Byeori."