Selfish Salvation
During our short time on the selfish salvation bus, Yuna and I grew much closer. The only regrettable part was that Seo Yu-na didn't really have any hobbies to speak of. No matter how hard I tried to find a conversation starter, aside from magic, we had zero common interests. So our chit-chat naturally drifted to the academy and magic.
"You were the one who used magic on me when I collapsed?!"
"Didn't you know? Who'd you think it was?"
"I thought it was obviously Jackie Teacher... How the heck did you do it? There was all this sparkling light, and my throat didn't hurt at all."
"Want me to show you again? Open wide one more time."
I wagged my index finger teasingly, and Yuna finally seemed to grasp what had happened back then. Blushing with embarrassment, she shook her head vigorously. She cracked open the window to let in some outside air, trying to cool her flushed face.
"Just kidding. It's actually a spell that works on any human skin or mucous membrane."
"Your finger back then... it didn't hurt? I didn't bite down too hard, did I?"
"Getting nibbled by a kid who hasn't even lost a single tooth? Doesn't hurt a bit."
Yuna clapped both hands over her mouth with a gasp.
"Does that mean you, Nami...! How many teeth have you got? Why do you keep teasing me about being a little kid?"
Eh? Good question. Why haven't my baby teeth fallen out yet? At this age, I should've lost at least four by now. Was I mistaken?
For a moment, I misunderstood. Whether it was a side effect of my illness or the meds, one thing was clear—my physical development was lagging behind other kids'. Not a huge deal, but the saddest part was that I wasn't growing tall fast. How long did I have to keep looking up at these kids?
"It's a secret."
"Arghhh, what?! Why hide it from me?"
Yuna puffed up triumphantly, like she'd caught some weakness of mine, and started prying. But I wasn't about to give in easily.
"Keep asking, and I'll tell Si-hu your breath smells like spit."
"Eek."
Our silly banter continued even after we got off the bus. I'd thought talking to an elementary kid would be childish, but Yuna was way more fun to tease than expected. This must be how an uncle feels messing with his niece.
Once her 'princess princess' school persona cracked, Yuna went full throttle, unleashing her raw emotions without filter. But it didn't last long before we hit a major obstacle.
"We have to climb this?! No other way?"
"Nope. Just get past these heavenly stairs, and we're at my place."
I couldn't even count the steps. Rough estimate by triangular ratio: at least 500. In this capitalist society driven by economic principles, they skipped tunnels or detours and just slapped stairs over the hill. These heavenly stairs lived up to the name—they were so steep, climbing them might actually send you ascending to heaven.
Fine, let's give it a shot. If not, I'll wrap myself in aura and force my way up.
"This where you fell?"
"Yeah. Gotta be careful climbing."
"Yeah, slip here and it's heaven, hell, or reincarnation. No in-between."
* * *
"Huff... haaah..."
"Nami, you okay? Wanna rest a bit more?"
"Yeah... just a sec. Sorry."
I'm dying. Unused muscles all over my body were screaming with sharp signals. If Yuna poked my calf right now, it'd cramp instantly.
"Haa... haa..."
"Sorry. We could've just transferred buses one more time to loop back. My bad again..."
"No, you said this way's faster. Let's go—no more breaks, all the way."
"Yeah! Hang in there!"
She was blaming herself so pitifully that even resting felt awkward. I'd begged her to let me come, so I couldn't whine now. Time to stand.
Yuna had insane stamina. After hundreds of steps, she was hopping up one stair, then down two, bounding around like a mountain goat on a cliff. The red retriever, overflowing with energy she couldn't contain, suddenly looped behind me and planted both hands on my back.
"Almost there!"
"Don't push...! It's dangerous!"
"Hehe."
Despite my plea, Yuna just flashed an innocent grin. She really reminded me of old Arin. That one was too underestimated, this one too prickly—but both craved affection unfiltered from those they liked.
"I'm just playing today, but starting tomorrow, I'll study for real."
Anyone else, I'd scoff 'yeah right.' But her vow had real venom.
"Our house has nothing, though. What do we do for fun?"
"Didn't you say your mom's home?"
"Yeah, right."
"Show her some academy magic. She'll love it."
"But teacher said never use magic outside."
"Up to 2nd Circle is fine."
Her mom's not well, so if Yuna cast a basic heal like 'tissue regeneration,' she'd be proud for sure. I'd just supervise silently to check her form.
"This is our place. It's pretty rundown... but don't badmouth it in front of Mom, or you're done! I might... cut ties with you...!"
"Means we're already friends, right? Thanks for thinking that."
"Ah, whatever! Whew, haa. How do I introduce you to Mom? First time bringing a friend... What if she gets mad I didn't say anything?"
"Worry about that, and you won't last long."
Knock knock knock.
Yuna stood frozen at the door, racking her brains, so I knocked instead. No sounds from inside. She said her little bro had come home but probably left for delivery again. Then she punched in the old button-style digital lock—not iris or gene scan.
"Mom, I'm home!"
She murmured the name of her most precious person.
"Mom, I'm home? You asleep?"
The house was dark. Even for a patient with bad vision, the vibe inside was chillingly eerie.
"Mom...?"
Yuna groped the wall for the switch. The single fluorescent bulb lighting the living room, bedroom, and kitchen flickered on. Nowhere in the cramped space could we find any trace of a person.
"No way...?"
Yuna's pupils dilated. Backpack still on, she yanked back the covers first—no silhouette, not even body heat.
"It can't be..."
She shook her head fiercely. The innocent face was gone; mechanical groans escaped her.
A yellow sticky note from inside the front door fluttered down, sticking to my foot.
"Seo Yu-na. Here."
Come straight to Severance Hospital after school - Seo No-eul
* * *
"Yes, Professor Cheon. Yes. I'm going to a friend's house today, so I'll be home late. Yes. Please have dinner without waiting for me."
The delicious Chateaubriand steak from Professor Cheon would have to wait. Far in the future.
"Mom'll be okay, right...? Sob... hic."
"If you're that worried, call your brother?"
"No-eul oppa's phone was at home earlier... Why'd he leave it? Mom... I miss Mom so much..."
We spotted the note and bolted out, Yuna barely shoving her shoes on. The vibrant girl was now corpse-pale, stumbling and rising repeatedly, losing balance.
Unlike when she helped me on the stairs, now I had to drag her along forcibly.
"Thanks, really... Sob... Without you, Nami... hic."
I stopped Yuna and hailed a taxi to Gangnam Severance Hospital. What would've been over 90 minutes walking took just 15 by cab. Had she really planned to run that whole way? Knowing Seo Yu-na, yeah.
"Looks pretty bad. I'll take the fastest route, no stops."
The driver, overhearing, encouraged Yuna like it was his own crisis. A kind soul.
"Seo Yu-na, look at me."
How did such a small face produce endless tears? Today had been nonstop crying for her—at school, on the bus, at home, now in the taxi.
"Your eyes are total puffballs now."
I'd been there once. When the one who'd been my mother abandoned me heartlessly, saddling me with massive debt on top—my life couldn't get more pathetic. I vowed never to cry again, but even in my past life, when lovable Niobe died, my siblings were devoured by darkness, my master vanished, and comrades and disciples fell to inevitable nightmares, I was always so weak.
Just once, just one person. My wish for someone—anyone—to help me only came true at life's end, barely, thanks to Hiasen.
Life fits the butterfly effect best. If that woman hadn't abandoned me, if even one friend had reached out during bullying, if I... Such hypotheticals mean nothing, yet humans can't help them. When life feels answerless, we scour the past for errors. The more miserable present and future, the more.
My deep meddling in Yuna's life, wiping her tears now with gentle pats to avoid chafing—just like my trauma-driven, utterly selfish acts. If someone called it out, I couldn't argue.
But so what? Did you ever help my life? I was a parched lamb for salvation, knowing better than anyone how ungrand "salvation" truly is.
A diligent kid greeting everyone with "good morning" every day at school could be someone's reason to live through hellish commutes.