How Could That Girl's Name Be... (4): The Scent of Blood
"Didn't you hear me? Come on, eat."
"Ah, b-but…"
"It's only a wish that you eat a little rice cake. You won't even grant me that? How disappointing."
"N-no, it's not that…! *Mm.*"
The moment I let a hint of wounded feeling show, Kongji hurriedly bit into the rice cake still resting in my hand.
She must have been so flustered she never thought it through—just how embarrassingly intimate it was to take food from someone else's fingers.
Even in modern Korea, people found that sort of thing quietly mortifying.
"……Ah."
"There's no need to eat quite so desperately."
"I-I'm thorry…! I-I jutht got tho fluthtered…!"
"I understand. Take your time and speak once you've finished. You'll choke."
I held out the cool water I had drawn earlier from the Valley. Right on cue, just as Kongji began pounding her chest, she managed to drink and catch her breath.
"Haa… haa…"
"It's good to see you eating well."
"Ah…"
"I'm not trying to pressure you. Have more. You can finish all of it, for that matter."
"But…"
"Even grown men take a mid-morning snack when they're working the fields. How is a delicate young lady supposed to restore her strength with a single rice cake? I'm perfectly fine, so eat everything. No—I'll simply leave it all here for you."
With that, I rose slowly from the rock.
Patji could appear at any moment, and I needed to put distance between myself and Kongji quickly.
"Ah, and one more thing—keep the fact that I helped you a secret. Well then."
"W-wait…!"
A few hours later, while I was deep in my books studying, Patji's angry voice carried in from outside.
"I knew it! You broke it again today, didn't you?! I'm telling Mother everything!"
…Fortunately, Kongji seemed sharp enough to keep my help a secret.
Breaking the wooden hoe just enough was a bonus. The metal hoe was something I had brought back ahead of time, so it went unnoticed.
If Patji or the Stepmother found out I'd gone to the Gravel Field… there's no telling what kind of torment would come next.
Even now, they were dumping near-impossible tasks on her purely for the sake of torment. And if she actually succeeded?
Then, frankly, they might simply assign her something even worse.
That would completely undermine my plan to spare Kongji as much suffering as possible.
Thankfully, though, she had kept not only the fact that I had helped her secret, but also that she had completely cleared the Gravel Field.
Since neither Patji nor the Stepmother ever bothered climbing the hill to inspect it, there was little chance of discovery for a while.
More than that, something feels off.
In truth, there was one other thing I had been searching for as I wandered the village.
The supporting characters who appeared in Kongji and Patji.
Those supporting characters were not people.
They were animals—a cow, a toad, and sparrows.
Every one of them creatures that had helped Kongji in the original tale.
The cow helped with weeding the Gravel Field, the toad filled the bottomless jar, and the sparrows husked the grain.
It was thanks to their aid that Kongji had been able to accomplish so much even in the original story.
But… for some reason, there was nothing in this village that could even be called an animal.
At best, there was a dog near the government office on the far side of town.
But even that dog was sickly and half-mad—hardly a normal state of affairs.
There should at least be oxen for farming, or a horse or two kept ready for official business.
Yet there were no livestock of that sort, and even birds like sparrows were almost nowhere to be seen.
All one could spot were fish upstream in the Valley, or birds soaring high overhead.
Strange. Far too strange.
This was no ordinary matter.
And yet, for some reason, not a single person in this village seemed to harbor any such doubts.
They tilled their fields inefficiently with hoes instead of oxen, and ran messages on foot for want of horses.
If this had been a tiny hamlet tucked deep in the mountains, I might have accepted it to some degree.
But as the grand tiled roof of Kongji's house made clear, this village was of considerable size.
And if it truly were a mountain village, wild animals should have been even more abundant.
"……The biggest problem for now is that without the animals, Kongji can't get their help."
Still, I planned to solve that by helping her myself, to a certain extent.
When you can't have pheasant, chicken will do—I would simply stand in for the cow, the toad, and the sparrows.
Fortunately, none of the tasks were particularly difficult.
If I kept helping her while dodging the eyes of the Stepmother and Patji, as I had been, Kongji's condition should improve considerably.
The other problem was why the animals were missing in the first place.
Even with San-gun and tigers about, animals still existed—yet this village alone had none.
I ran my fingers over a talisman in my travel bundle.
The Landlord's Daughter had given it to me before I set out on my journey.
A wondrous Talisman obtained by asking a certain monk for it, she had said.
At any rate, with this I was supposed to receive some measure of protection against strange occurrences.
Strange occurrences.
In Kongji and Patji, there had been nothing one would call particularly strange, so I needed to proceed carefully.
"……I don't know."
It seemed I needed more information.
And so the second day at Kongji's house came to an end.
Then the next day, I was suddenly summoned by the Stepmother.
"My daughter says she wishes to go play in the mountains today. Would you be willing to accompany her?"
"By your daughter, you mean Young Lady Patji?"
The Stepmother nodded at my words.
"Yes. It seems my daughter has rather taken a liking to you, Scholar…"
As she spoke, she looked me up and down with a snake-like sweep of her eyes.
That gaze was thoroughly unsettling.
If my bundle had been beside me, I might well have drawn my sword without thinking.
"Might you, by any chance, have an interest in my daughter?"
Interest in that boar-like Patji?
I did!
Only it wasn't romantic interest.
If a Joseon-era woman's build looks like a North European Viking's, who wouldn't find that intriguing?
She was easily over a hundred and seventy centimeters tall, and truly felt like a massive beast.
I didn't want to stir up more trouble than necessary, but affirming that I "had an interest" wasn't easy either.
In the end, all I managed was to say I would simply go along.
"Well then, I leave her in your care."
After finishing the conversation with the Stepmother and stepping out of the room, I found Kongji waiting for me outside.
"Hm?"
"Ah, ah! Th-that is…!"
Kongji clutched a rag made of old cotton cloth, flustered and avoiding my gaze.
Then, carefully checking for any sign of the Stepmother still inside the room, she asked me.
"Are you… going to the mountain with Sister today…?"
"I am. I'd planned to help you again today, but unfortunately that won't be possible."
"Ugh… Th-then…! Would you take this with you…?"
What Kongji held out was a sort of bracelet made by threading beans onto a string.
"Hm?"
"I'd like you to wear this… on your ankle…"
"……Is there a reason?"
"Well……"
Just as Kongji was about to say something—
"Nari! Mother told me! You're coming along on today's outing…!"
"Ah, Young Lady. So I am. I heard the mountain you'll be playing on is rather rugged. As a houseguest, I wanted to be of help in some way, and this seemed perfect."
"Ohoho! This young lady is delighted as well! To go on a mountain outing with Nari!"
"I'm not going for fun—I'm escorting—"
"Oh, come now! It's all the same thing! Now then… Kongji? What are you doing here? The work I assigned you?"
"Ah, I was just about to go do it, Sister…"
"Good. You'd better have it all done by the time I get back from playing, you hear? And don't fail again like yesterday and the day before!"
"Y-yes…"
With that, I headed for the mountain with Patji.
Patji had shown up so suddenly that I never managed to take the bean bracelet Kongji had wanted me to wear on my ankle.
As we walked, I put a question to Patji.
She was a person of interest, so I wanted information of various kinds.
"Don't you think you're a little too harsh with your younger sister?"
At that, Patji put on a shamelessly mournful expression and answered.
"I truly wish I didn't have to. But my younger sister Kongji is so frail, and she can barely speak properly… I was deeply worried whether she could survive in this harsh world."
"Oh-ho."
"So I gave up first on being her protector, and though it pained my heart, I've been giving her hard work so she might overcome the world…"
For someone of her bulk, she sure had a silver tongue.
If one weren't already suspicious, it was the kind of story one might swallow whole.
Especially given that odd sense of trustworthiness she had projected from our first meeting—it only made the déjà vu stronger.
That sense of trustworthiness, how to put it… it felt far too artificial.
It's like… what's the phrase—something smells fishy…
Ah, and for the record, I'm not talking about Patji's body odor.
Well, it's similar, but that's not what I mean right now.
"I see. What a considerate older sister you are."
"Thank you for seeing it that way."
Following Patji slowly up the mountain, we finally arrived at our destination.
It was a place with a view of the entire village at a glance.
But my gaze went not to that scenery, but to a nearby tree.
……I smell blood.
It was very faint, but unmistakable.
There was a high probability of animal corpses buried beneath that tree.
And not just one or two—quite a number of them.
Most carnivores don't eat a carcass and then hide it.
Even if they do hide one, they don't conceal that many.
Which meant it was safe to assume something with more intelligence had done this…
"……"
"W-why are you looking at me like that…"
"……It's nothing."
Was it just my imagination?
I could have sworn a metallic scent of blood was wafting from Patji's mouth.