A Girl Needs a Warm Belly

I opened my eyes that morning to find my body slapping an invoice down in front of me.

"Arrrrgh… aaahh…"

Stiff shoulders, that was a given. Knots had packed themselves into my forearms, and the bruises on my knees throbbed in sharp little stabs. That was the price of crawling around the landfill yesterday like my life depended on it.

I had to fight my own private war curled up on the sofa, twitching through every protest my muscles filed.

Not everything on the invoice was a charge, though. Once the worst of the soreness had ebbed, I pulled up my status window.

Ohh.

It wasn't even a gate. It was a junk heap. And the system still counted it as live combat?

Then again, if we were scoring by how wrecked my body felt, yesterday had been a hundred times harder than usual. Maybe this stat climbed in proportion to how much the body hurt. Muscle worked that way too, didn't it? You tore the fibers and they grew back stronger.

Stats up, I did what I always did and snuck a peek inside my clothes.

Yep. Same as ever. Smooth as a river stone.

This boring body of mine, I swear!

I was already in a mood about that when Nayeon managed to get my horns up all over again.

"Byeori, let's wash up one more time, okay?"

That was about the fifth time she'd said it since we got back from the landfill yesterday. Something about the smell of iron clinging to my skin. I could mash my nose against my own arm all I wanted and the only thing I ever caught was something sweet.

"I've already washed three times this morning…. If I do it again I'll rust."

"You're not a sword. What are you talking about?"

"……People rust too if you wash them this much!"

Breakfast came with a rolled omelet.

And the fried chicken, you ask?

…By the time we got back to the guild it was far too late. We could have eaten it, sure, but there wouldn't have been time to digest, so we pushed it to another day.

Anyway. Maybe skipping the chicken had done the grocery budget a favor, because this morning's spread was the real deal.

Steamed eggs. Rolled omelet. Fried eggs. And soy-sauce egg rice on top of all that.

A veritable egg gift set!

"Mmyam myam."

I was savoring the rich, toasted flavor of the rolled omelet when Jihyeon plucked a few pieces off Nayeon's plate and set them down in front of me.

"Hey! Jihyeon!"

"Here. These are Byeori's too."

"Why?"

"She worked the hardest yesterday."

"What are you talking about? I was the one who took down the slimes in the rift—"

"You worked hard looking after our clumsy senior. Go on. Eat up."

If that was the reason, there was no refusing.

I had been rationing my omelet in tiny, precious bites. I dumped the whole extra serving into my mouth in one go, and Nayeon shoveled rice into her face with the expression of a woman watching the world end.

Jihyeon, for her part, did not so much as glance at her.

"Yesterday's incident report went through. Filing's complete. That other guild's statement went in with it."

She delivered it like a briefing, all business.

"That was fast."

"Right? Remarkably fast."

…This kind of thing was supposed to sit in a backlog for days.

Why does everything that has my name on it suddenly start moving like a well-oiled machine?

At least this time it was good news. I'd take it.

"Ah. And this."

Jihyeon set a single piece of candy on the table.

"That's your hazard pay. From me."

"…One piece?"

"We'll take the raise negotiation at year-end. The company's… no, the guild's finances are a little tight."

She said it with an awkward little laugh.

What kind of sweatshop guild is this?

I snorted along with her and slipped the candy she'd given me into my pocket.

…Ah. These dolphin shorts don't have pockets. I'd already committed to the cool pocket-slide, and fishing it back out would have been more embarrassing, so I just stuffed it down inside the waistband.

Jihyeon called me over that morning.

"Ahem. Byeori? You made the boards. Yesterday's thing."

"……What?"

Hunter Gallery was up on her monitor.

Mercifully, none of the aggro was pointed at me personally.

Good. Really, truly good…

"Ugh."

Good, and also kind of infuriating.

I mean, I might have actually done something cool out there. Why does nobody believe it? Just because I'm a short little brat?

I was seething on the inside when Jihyeon flicked a glance at me and took the mouse back.

"Nobody's buying it, so I don't think you need to worry about it."

"Hiiing."

She scrolled, and a fresh post on the marketplace board next door snagged my eye.

"Wait. Hold on."

I snatched the mouse and clicked.

I stared at the photos, and before I knew it my hand was stroking the sword on the other side of the glass.

…I know those marks.

That person. So her name was Sera.

It's almost funny. She swung me more than a few times, and I never even knew her name.

"…Guess she's still at it."

"Hm? What was that?"

My chest was quiet. It didn't even itch the way it had when I first met my original master.

I said nothing and scrolled a little further.

Not a single word of it was wrong. That was the part that left me with nothing to say.

"Byeori? What are you staring at so hard?"

"Just, uh. Junk talk."

I slammed the window shut before Jihyeon could see. Too late, maybe. She might have caught the comments. She set her hand quietly on top of my head.

"Don't say things like that."

I looked at the desktop for a moment, then nodded.

"…Okay."

I don't know how much time passed after that. Right after lunch, my body presented yesterday's invoice all over again.

This morning it had been muscle pain. This time it was a heavy, syrupy drowsiness.

What strips a traveler of their clothes is… not the wind, but the sun! No, no. Not the sun — a blood sugar spike!

The one genuinely luxurious thing in this entire guild: a plush sofa. I angled the nearby fan just so, pulled a soft blanket over myself, flopped onto my back, and let my eyelids slide shut.

"Byeori, are you going to sleep?"

"…Five minutes."

"If you sleep right after eating you'll get fat. You'll get a belly."

A belly, she says. This body only looks human. Half of it's still a sword. I don't even use the bathroom.

"Five minutes… mmnh…"

Five minutes, nothing. When I woke up, two hours had gone by.

On the pillow beside my head sat a single strawberry candy — my favorite kind.

"…Honestly."

Those comments are still sitting wrong with her, huh.

Me, I'm fine. Really.

I tucked the sweet candy into my cheek and burrowed back into the sofa.

Night fell, and the chat window blinked.

Right. This person looked nothing like it, but she was a hardcore community addict.

Sweat beaded along my back. I kept trying not to get tangled up in this, and it kept happening anyway.

She means A-7, I guess…

Had that come out too cold?

I was turning over a joke to soften it when she sent something strange.

"……."

It's not like I even know her, huh.

Yeah. You don't know that "kid." You just know a sword.

The mood seemed to loosen, at least.

Swords see and hear everything, huh.

I stared at the line she'd left, typed yeah that detergent wasn't great for me either, and closed the window.

My chest itched.

It had stayed quiet at the landfill when I almost got buried. It had stayed quiet when they talked about Sera, that terrifying woman.

So why did it only act up in front of this chat window?

"Mm…"

Maybe I'm about due for a proper maintenance.

Bedtime. Nayeon wished me good night and started heading for the inner room when I spoke up.

"Um. Master."

"Hm?"

"I want to sleep as a sword tonight."

Nayeon and Jihyeon both looked at me at once.

"…Suddenly?"

"I just kinda wanted to try sleeping as a sword. And, well, I wanted a little maintenance too…"

I fidgeted with my fingers as I said it.

"…Maintenance!"

Nayeon's eyes, which had been a blink away from closing, flew wide open.

"Of course! I'll do as much as you want!"

"If you're sleepy, tomorrow is fi—"

"Sleepy? I'm not sleepy at all! I had coffee earlier, I'm wide awake!"

They laid out a blanket ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and a cushion, and I transformed on top of it.

Fwaat—

A single silver sword settled onto the cushion with a soft tap.

Nayeon came back with the maintenance kit. The one she'd bought at the smithy last time. It was a good set — the cloth had already been worked soft and broken in.

Swoosh—

Swoooosh—

The cloth traveled the length of the blade.

…That's nice. Yeah. Mmh. Right there. Ooh, that's cool.

W-wait. Below that… that's too…

Ah!

Nnnh…

When I was just a sword, maintenance had been upkeep. Performance retention. Asset management.

What was I supposed to call this?

Nnnnh…! Nnh… nnnh…!

"Ah, Byeori's twitching again, unni."

"Heh. She must like it."

"She twitches extra every time you rub right here. Focus on this spot."

"Here? Oh, you're right."

I don't know and I don't care. This is good. My heart feels quiet.

"You worked hard yesterday."

Nayeon started humming a little tune under her breath as she ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠polished the edge.

"Unni. Why are you singing a lullaby while you wipe a sword…"

"Come on, Byeori said so herself. She can hear everything even as a sword."

"And that has what to do with a lullaby?"

"You know. Lullabies make you feel safe. Don't they?"

They do, but.

…At least hit the notes.

I put that feeling into a hum. Nnnh.

"Ah! That was 'that's right, unni'!"

"What kind of nonsense is that."

"A master's ears can hear it!"

"I swear…"

She said that, but Jihyeon picked up a cloth of her own.

"…I'll take the hilt."

…The hilt!

Aahh… my big, magnificent grip is getting wrecked…!

Swish, swish.

Nnnnnh—!

Anyway, four hands made the work go fast. Fast enough that I was a little sorry when it did.

Time slipped by. In the middle of some nothing conversation, Jihyeon spoke in a quiet voice.

"Byeori."

Yeah.

"When you were a sword, all you could do was listen, huh. To conversations like this."

All I could do was listen…

Yeah. That's how it was. There was nothing else I could do.

…Nnnh.

"Ah. The vibration got weaker."

"…Mm."

Jihyeon's hands paused for a moment. When the cloth started moving again, it was a little slower than before.

…And then, unfortunately, the maintenance was over.

Nayeon laid me on the sofa blanket and pulled the covers up over me.

"Why does a sword need a blanket…?"

"A girl needs a warm belly."

"A girl… mm. That's fair, actually."

Well now?

"Then why don't you just hold her and sleep?"

"Hold her? Hm. Should I?"

"A person's arms would be warmer than a blanket, wouldn't they?"

You've got to be kidding me.

I'm a sword. I'm extremely sharp. What are you going to do if you roll over and get cut?

"Nah. Never mind."

"Why?"

"If Byeori wanted to sleep together, she would have said so. Right?"

She tapped me as she said it, so I answered with a nnnnh.

"Heh. See?"

The two of them turned out the lights and left.

The quiet lasted only a moment.

Creeeak—

A little later the door eased open a crack, and Nayeon came back to lay one more blanket over me before she went.

A sword has no way to feel warmth.

Even so, it was very warm.

Before long the living room went still.

How long had it been since I'd spent a night as a sword?

No drowsiness. No fatigue. I simply lay there, keeping the night company with one thought and then another, until the sun came up.

The same night.

Hunter Association Control Center, night shift.

The duty officer's hand stopped on an attached file the instant he finished typing None.

Yesterday's date. An incident report from a landfill.

He clicked it open, and one of the names in the rescue-involved column was the same name he had seen during the A-7 case.

"Kang Byeori?"

Not a common name. And that age was even less common.

He took a sip of coffee and drew a single sheet of paper from the drawer.

A document that had been destined to be forgotten in a drawer found its way back onto the desk.