Pure Longing, Incomprehensible
Pure longing, incomprehensible.
Pure longing, incomprehensible.
Crunch.
Crunch.
"...U-ang?"
Ugalu finally took a huge bite of the red fruit he had claimed, looking back and forth between the two people in front of him. The round fruit was so large that even both of his front paws could barely wrap around it, and sweet juice was already flowing from the place he had just bitten, staining the scales around his mouth and under his chin a deep red.
Even as he diligently chewed the flesh that filled his mouth, Ugalu never took his eyes off Lakia, who had come looking for him, and Leon, who had pulled him free from between the trees.
Mama was terrifyingly scary.
The urgent voice that had been searching for him through the forest had long since settled into something cold. The red eyes visible between her fine silver hair examined Leon's face, his hands, and the sword at his waist in turn, never once letting her guard down.
Ugalu thought Lakia was angry because he had wandered so far. He had followed the fruit. Without thinking about his size, he had squeezed between the narrow trees. His belly had gotten stuck. No matter how much he thrashed, he couldn't get free, so he had cried for a long time. He had done, one after another, all the things Lakia had told him not to do, so even young Ugalu vaguely understood that a long talk awaited him once they got home.
Yet Lakia's frightening gaze was not directed at Ugalu. From the very beginning, she had been looking only at Leon. Why was she staring like that at the boy who had saved him? A pure baby dragon had no way of knowing, so Ugalu tilted his head—then spotted the wound left on the back of Leon's hand and stretched his neck out long.
Lick.
A warm, damp tongue passed over the red scrape. Leon's fingers twitched slightly. It was a wound that had formed while he dug through the dirt and forced his hands between the rough bark to free Ugalu from the trees. Several thin lines remained on the back of one hand, and a small patch of skin had been peeled away along the edge of his palm. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but Ugalu's sensitive nose did not miss the faint scent.
He set the fruit down under one front paw and took hold of Leon's hand. His short, plump front paws wrapped around two of the boy's fingers.
Lick.
Lick.
As if repaying the one who had saved him, Ugalu carefully licked the wound. The red juice still clinging to his mouth mixed with sticky saliva, so that Leon's hand looked less like it was being treated and more like it had been dunked in the red fruit itself.
Leon looked down at his own hand and smiled faintly.
"At this rate I'll have to wash your spit off before I worry about the wound."
"U-ang."
Ugalu seemed to think he had been praised; he wagged his tail. The short, thick tail swept through the fallen leaves.
Lakia's gaze grew even colder. Her child was holding the hand of a human he had never met before. Simply because Leon's hand smelled of blood, he was carefully licking the wound, and every time Leon spoke, his ears moved and his tail wagged. There was hardly any wariness toward Leon to be found in Ugalu.
Lakia knew that personality better than anyone. He loved food, quickly opened his heart to anyone who treated him kindly, and did not truly understand that beings who harbored malice existed in the world. She wanted to protect that innocence. At the same time, she feared that because of that innocence her child would one day be deeply hurt.
Lakia had long watched the ways humans took things. They took land. They took family. They took trust, they took names, and in the end they took even the reason to keep living. She could not allow her children to go through the same things.
Her fingers slowly curled. Her slender nails pressed into her palm with enough force to dig in.
"...Who are you?"
A voice that had settled into coldness cut through the forest. Lakia's red gaze fixed deeply on Leon.
Leon, who had been smiling faintly while looking at Ugalu, slowly raised his head. Their eyes met head-on. Leon immediately recognized the hostility in Lakia's face. It was an emotion far deeper and older than ordinary wariness toward a stranger. It was not an emotion born because he carried a sword, nor because he stood beside Ugalu. Hatred directed at the entire human race burned coldly inside those red eyes.
Leon did not suddenly pull his hand free from Ugalu's grip. He only slowly relaxed the strength in his fingers so the hatchling would not be startled. After licking the wound a few more times, Ugalu let go, and only then did Leon straighten up.
"Leon."
A low, calm answer returned. No change appeared on Lakia's face.
"I didn't ask for your name."
"You asked who I was, so I answered with my name first."
Leon's voice was polite, yet he did not shrink excessively before Lakia's hostility. That attitude raised a new suspicion in her. He might be a human accustomed to hiding fear. Or he might be a foolish human who had not yet guessed what she was. Either way, there was no reason to trust him at once.
"Tell me where you came from and what you were doing here."
Lakia took a step toward Ugalu as she spoke. Leon watched her movement but did not reach for his sword.
"I was passing through the forest."
"Where were you headed?"
"Nowhere in particular."
"You walk this deep forest with no destination?"
"I'm searching for a concept rather than a place... I suppose that would be accurate."
Lakia's red eyes narrowed. Looking at his appearance, his words did not seem completely false. Traces of a long journey remained on Leon's clothes and boots. The hem of his cloak was worn in several places, and dried mud and grass seeds clung to his leather boots. The small bag at his waist had faded from enduring long travel, and he did not seem to carry many belongings. He was too poorly prepared to be a mercenary or hunter, and he did not look like someone who knew this area well.
"Why did you approach Ugalu?"
"I wasn't the one who approached."
Leon looked toward a gap between trees a short distance away.
"He was stuck there, crying."
Lakia's gaze moved in the direction he indicated. Between two trees that had grown close together, the traces of Ugalu thrashing remained clear. The bark was scraped as if a round body had rubbed against it many times, and the dirt around the roots was a mess, as if small claws had dug wildly. On one side, dirt that looked as if a person had scooped it by hand was piled high, and the lower space between the trees had been widened enough for Ugalu to slip free.
After examining those traces, Lakia looked at Ugalu's side. Reddened scales and bark dust. Dirt on his chest and front paws. The red fruit that had been rolling on the ground. There was no need to ask what he had done. When Ugalu found something to eat, he moved his body before checking the obstacles in front of him. He had probably thought that if his head could fit through, the rest of his body would too.
"You pulled him out?"
"I did."
"Why?"
Leon looked at Lakia for a moment. It was not the face of someone who failed to understand the question. It was a silence that seemed to weigh what kind of answer she would distrust.
"Because he was crying."
He finally answered. Lakia's lips pressed thin.
"That's the reason?"
"I think it's reason enough."
"He was a dragon."
"He looked like a child to me."
"You're the first human I've met who sees a dragon and a child as the same thing."
Open distrust colored Lakia's voice. Leon showed no displeasure at her words. He only glanced for a moment at Ugalu, who had started chewing the fruit again down below.
Crunch.
Crunch.
Ugalu seemed to realize they were talking about him and lifted his head. When his eyes met Leon's, he wagged his tail with his mouth still full of fruit. Leon's expression softened just a little.
"Looking at him like that, it was hard to think of a dragon first."
Lakia looked down at Ugalu as well. He had been chewing the fruit so hastily that juice had splattered all the way up onto his nose. A dry leaf was stuck to one short wing, and clear red marks remained on his plump belly where the trees had pressed against him. It was a far cry from the majestic image of a dragon. Lakia did not want to admit that fact. But... she had no choice but to admit it, a little.
"Ugalu."
She held out her hand.
"Come here."
Ugalu's ears twitched. He looked at Lakia, then up at Leon. Under one front paw was the fruit, about half remaining, and the other front paw was still resting on Leon's boot.
"Ugalu."
Lakia called once more. Her voice was sterner than before. Ugalu flinched and pulled his front paw off the boot. Then, fruit held in his mouth, he took a couple of steps toward Lakia. His plump body swayed left and right with every step. He was about to go all the way to her when he turned his head again midway, looking up at Leon with large eyes as if to make sure the boy was still standing there.
Leon did not move. He stepped back one pace to clear the way so Ugalu could return to his family. Confirming that, Ugalu walked toward Lakia again.
Lakia did not wait; she lowered herself and lifted Ugalu into her arms. With one arm she supported his round bottom, and with the other she carefully cradled him under the chest, avoiding the side that had been scraped against the tree. The moment he was held in that familiar embrace, Ugalu immediately rubbed his face against Lakia's shoulder.
"Kkyu."
Lakia quickly checked his head and neck. She examined between the short horns, inside the ears, under the chin, then felt along the front and hind legs in turn. A few scales on his side were roughly scraped, but there was no deep wound. Nothing seemed broken, and his breathing continued evenly. A little of the tension left Lakia's stiff shoulders.
"Does it hurt?"
"Kkyu-hing..."
Ugalu whimpered thinly, still holding the fruit in his mouth so he wouldn't drop it. Lakia carefully brushed her fingertips around the wound. When Ugalu curled his body, she immediately withdrew her hand.
"We'll go home, wash you, and put medicine on it."
"Ung."
"And we're going to talk about how many times I've told you not to go far."
Ugalu's ears drooped. He burrowed his head under Lakia's chin as if trying to escape the scolding. The fruit still in his mouth pressed against her clothes, spreading red juice. Lakia looked at it and let out a short breath. Relief that she had found her child washed over her, but Leon's presence kept her from fully relaxing. She rose while still holding Ugalu.
"I'll believe you when you say you pulled him out."
Leon quietly looked at her.
"I won't expect thanks on top of that."
At that single line, Lakia's eyes sharpened again.
"Do I look like someone who doesn't know how to be grateful?"
"You look like someone who can't trust me."
Leon answered exactly as it was. Lakia did not immediately contradict him. The words were true. She could confirm from the traces in front of her that Leon had rescued Ugalu. Even so, she could not go so far as to conclude that he was a good human. One good deed did not reveal a person's entire nature.
"Right."
Lakia said coldly.
"I despise humans."
Leon nodded just a little.
"I think that's possible."
It was not the answer she had expected. Lakia had thought he would protest his innocence or go on about how good a person he was. Humans usually inflated the small kindnesses they offered, and if the other party did not open their heart at once, they grew angry and called them ungrateful. Leon did not put his actions forward. He simply accepted the fact that Lakia did not trust him.
"Since the child has found his family, I'll be going."
Leon looked at his sword lying on the ground. He had set it down earlier to ease Lakia's wariness. The moment he took a step toward the sword, Lakia's body immediately tensed. Leon stopped walking.
"May I take my sword?"
Lakia looked back and forth between the sword and Leon for a moment. Both of Leon's hands were in plain sight. She felt no intent to attack.
"Pick it up slowly."
"Understood."
Leon moved slowly so he would not leave Lakia's field of vision. He bent at the waist, gripped the middle of the scabbard, and lifted the sword sheath and all without touching the hilt. While he fastened the sword at his waist, Lakia watched every motion. Ugalu also peeked over Lakia's shoulder to look at Leon.
"Kkyu."
Leon's hand paused for a beat. He did not answer Ugalu; he simply finished tying the leather strap of the sword. He seemed to have already realized that Lakia disliked it.
"Then."
Leon gave a short farewell and turned. He slowly walked toward the narrow path that continued between the trees. Lakia watched his back for a moment, then turned her body in the opposite direction. She intended to take Ugalu back to where the other children were waiting.
After only a few steps, the Ugalu in her arms suddenly twisted his body.
"Kkyu."
He hooked his front paws over Lakia's shoulder and looked back. Leon was already quite far away. An old cloak moving between the trees was visible. Ugalu stretched his neck long and watched that figure.
"Ugalu."
Lakia called low. Ugalu did not answer. He only slowly wagged his tail, never taking his eyes off Leon's retreating back.
"We're going home now."
"Kkyu..."
Lakia kept walking. The farther she walked, the more Ugalu twisted his body backward. At first he only turned his head; a little later he planted both front paws on her shoulders. Whenever Leon's figure was hidden by a tree, he leaned left and right to find it again.
"Stop that."
Lakia firmly readjusted her hold on Ugalu.
"You'll fall."
Ugalu seemed to settle quietly into her arms for a moment. After a few more steps he peeked over her shoulder again. Leon was now only a small figure between the trees.
"Kkyuuu."
Ugalu cried long. It was the cry of calling to a being who was leaving him behind. Leon's steps slowed for just an instant. He did not look back. Knowing that Lakia was trying to put distance between him and Ugalu, he did not answer the child's call and kept walking.
That choice should have been desirable to Lakia. Ugalu would soon forget Leon. Once he returned home, played with his siblings, ate his fill, and fell asleep in Lakia's arms, even the memory of the human he met in the forest might grow faint. Yet Ugalu's crying did not stop.
"Kkyu."
He called Leon again. When Leon did not turn, his ears drooped. He no longer chewed the fruit in his mouth. His tail stopped wagging, and disappointment quickly filled his large eyes.
Lakia looked down at that face.
"What's wrong?"
"Le-aung..."
Ugalu said the boy's name in clumsy pronunciation. Lakia's steps stopped.
"When did you hear that name?"
"Le-uung..."
Instead of answering the question, Ugalu called the name again. He seemed to think that if he said the name, the boy who was growing distant would come back. Lakia pressed her lips together.
Ugalu had already opened his heart to Leon, who had saved him. If she forcibly tore them apart, it would be the same as snatching away a being her child had come to like without even explaining why. Teaching him that humans were dangerous was necessary. But she could not force Ugalu, who had not yet experienced that danger, to hate Leon simply because he was human.
The Leon that Ugalu remembered was the person who had pulled him free when he was stuck between trees and crying. The person who had spoken gently so he would not be afraid, who had handled his sore body carefully, and who had even found the fruit he had lost. If she forced her own hatred over that memory, Ugalu would not understand. She also did not want her child's purity to turn into confusion because of her orders.
Lakia looked in the direction Leon was disappearing. His figure was almost completely hidden between the trees. If she did not call him back now, he would soon vanish beyond the forest.
"Kkyu-hing..."
Moisture welled in Ugalu's eyes. He rested his chin on Lakia's shoulder and stared at the place where Leon had vanished. Lakia looked down at that face for a long while. Inside her chest, two emotions collided. The wariness that she must not keep a human close. And the thought that she could not ignore Ugalu's heart, which was hurt because he had not even been able to properly say goodbye to the one who saved him.
Bringing Leon into her territory was dangerous. The possibility that he was lying still remained. He might have deliberately shown kindness to Ugalu in order to learn the number of children and the location of their home. He might be connected to other humans. Lakia considered every one of those possibilities. At the same time, the conclusion rose that if she kept him close and watched him, she could examine more carefully what purpose he harbored. If she sent him away here, she would not know where he was headed. Ugalu might keep looking for Leon for a long time. If she kept him in front of her and watched him, she could at least deny him the chance to harm the child.
Lakia let out a long breath. Ugalu's drooping ears caught her eye. In the end, she turned her body.
"You there."
A cold, clear voice cut across the forest path. The footsteps of the retreating Leon stopped. He did not immediately turn back. He stood there for a moment as if confirming whether he was the one being called. Lakia's brow furrowed.
"Leon."
For the first time she called his name. Leon slowly turned his head. Through the trees, their eyes met again. Ugalu's ears shot straight up.
"Kkya!"
His tail began to wag vigorously once more. Lakia firmly supported the Ugalu who was bouncing in her arms.
"Come back."
Leon looked at Lakia from where he stood. His face was that of someone who found it hard to guess why she was stopping him.
"Me?"
"Is there another Leon here besides you?"
Irritation colored Lakia's voice. After a brief silence, Leon slowly turned around. He approached the two of them along the path he had first taken. The closer Leon came, the more Ugalu waved his front paws in the air.
"Kkyu! Le-uung!"
"Ugalu."
Lakia called his name sternly. He reduced his movements but could not stop his tail. Leon stopped several steps away. He seemed to have no intention of entering a distance Lakia had not permitted.
"What is it?"
Lakia did not answer at once. She looked down at Ugalu. His eyes had brightened again simply because Leon had returned. The ears that had drooped with disappointment stood straight, and the jaw that had stopped began chewing the red fruit once more.
Crunch.
Crunch.
A low sigh escaped Lakia's lips.
"This child doesn't seem to want to just let you go."
Leon looked at Ugalu. When the hatchling's gaze met his, Ugalu lifted the fruit high with his front paws as if proudly showing that he was eating well. A very faint smile spread at the corner of Leon's mouth.
"Haa. Come in. The storm won't hit now."
"...That was something you could control?"
"I got rid of it for a little while so the kids could go on a picnic... and then I run into a strange human. If it was going to be like this I should've just let them play in the gorge..."
She grumbled, but it was already too late for second thoughts.