The Human Heart
The human heart is a fickle thing. Even toward someone who has stretched out a helping hand—even when that kindness is a grace beyond any hope of repayment—the moment something fails to sit well, offense comes easily.
Of course, taking offense like that would rarely go so far as a true falling-out, not unless something truly serious had happened. Still, you could not help feeling put out, or quietly hurt, once dissatisfaction had taken root. How could a person's heart ever go only as they intended it to?
That was why Helena felt hurt by Yeonmin.
After telling her she was special, hadn't the goddess gone wagging her tail at countless other people? And even the motive was impure. She had brought them back just because they were pretty? She was out of her mind.
This goddess just wanted to watch pretty dolls moving around. And I, not knowing that, had lived my whole life feeling indebted from the moment I learned she existed. The longer I lived, the more I wondered what price she would eventually demand.
But now that she was actually here, Yeonmin wanted no payment at all. She even quietly accepted restraints that suppressed her own power, all while wishing for Helena's happiness. Seeing that, Helena's heart only grew heavier. What am I even thinking, toward a goddess who truly wants nothing?
And humans are foolish creatures. She had vented that crushing weight as if sulking at Yeonmin—and Yeonmin had accepted even that with a smile. Which only made Helena all the more presumptuous, snapping that Yeonmin was a lecher. And Yeonmin, being Yeonmin, clung to her with that sly, shameless affection.
Only then did Helena begin to feel sorry for her.
She must have lived for eons. That wasn't slyness at all—it was innocence. In less than twenty years of life, I had seen humanity's ugliness and grown steeped in pessimism. This goddess must have seen far worse than I ever had. So how could she still wish for the happiness of all humankind?
And so a sliver of responsibility took root. Yeonmin had accepted these bonds because of her. One way or another, I ought to look after this hopelessly kind goddess.
Those who received Yeonmin's help often called themselves Apostles. Unlike the ones who, without any doctrine or offering, simply made an image of Yeonmin and offered their thanks, Helena might have to do what Apostles of other faiths did: spread the word. Solely for Yeonmin's survival.
The faith of gods and humans is an inseparable bond. People tend to think of religions as humans begging gods for wishes and clinging to them. But the truth is, without humans, a god cannot exist. Gods live by feeding on faith—on belief and hope. Even an evil god exists because humans desire it. Helena had never studied theology, but even she knew that much.
So here, she was the only one who believed Yeonmin existed. If more people placed their faith in Yeonmin, then Yeonmin could recover her strength—or at least continue to exist.
And Yeonmin, oblivious to all of this, kept turning her eyes toward other people. The moment Helena felt that, she grew confused. Had this goddess simply treated us as toys? Play with one until she got bored, then switch to someone else.
And so, when the staff member stepped out, Helena found herself speaking more sharply than she meant to.
"Is it because she's a pretty girl too that you're sitting there grinning like that?"
I shouldn't be doing this. Whatever Yeonmin does, I have no right to force her. I'm only one among countless humans. Whatever her reasons, the fact that Yeonmin felt compassion and saved me hasn't changed. And yet, just because she called me special, here I am getting jealous. Disappointing myself all on my own.
And still Yeonmin only smiled at her, so kindly.
Into that tumultuous heart of Helena's, Yeonmin drove a nail: she would leave her someday. And that was what made Helena's chest surge.
She knew Yeonmin had already given her everything she could. If Yeonmin stayed at her side like this, her salvation would never reach others who needed help. She knew that—and still she wanted Yeonmin to stay. Perhaps it was anger at herself for wanting that which made her chest seize.
So with her head burning, Helena let her mouth run. A woman who answered problems with gunfire had never had much of a way with words. She rambled, disjointed and messy.
And even then, Yeonmin—who had a body that so thoroughly provoked humanity's most primal instincts—only answered with that innocent face.
Helena's breath caught in her throat. Only then did she realize how closely she and Yeonmin were pressed together. Yeonmin, still bound, was leaning against her as if lying down. And somehow, without knowing why, Helena had one arm around Yeonmin's back, holding her up. From the goddess rose a nameless, ticklish floral scent...
"You goddess..."
Her mind felt like a complete wreck. Is this goddess enchanting me right now? No. Yeonmin, who wants nothing, would never do that.
She was so confused she couldn't even say anything more—when Yeonmin spoke first, smiling awkwardly.
"...Um, Helena. I'm really sorry, but I think I could use a little help. I've tipped over too far, and I can't quite get up."
It was true that keeping your balance got harder the farther you leaned. But whether you used a little rebound or just the strength in your waist to correct your posture, even a child or a frail old person could manage that much. And Yeonmin was saying she couldn't.
Only then did Helena remember what she had been thinking earlier. In this world, the only person who could be called Yeonmin's believer was Helena herself. Yeonmin had given up everything and crossed over here because of me alone. And now she was so weakened she couldn't even hold her own body up. This pitiful goddess...
The chaos that had been raging in Helena's heart settled in an instant, washed away by the compassion that had sprung up for Yeonmin. At last, Helena looked at her properly.
Hair so purely black it seemed to have no distinguishing feature at all, worn long with not a single ornament. Those pitch-black eyes were held softly in slightly downturned lids, as if speaking for Yeonmin's nature in her place. Her body curved with a femininity so intense it was almost violent—and yet she wore the habit of an ordinary nun, the kind any seeker might wear. Other goddesses strained to adorn themselves however they could, desperate to grow their flocks. This one simply wanted humans to be happy, and spent her power on that. She didn't look after herself at all.
Which was why she had grown so weak she couldn't even manage her own body—and still she was talking about leaving.
Helena looked at Yeonmin for a long time. Then, with a complicated expression, she took Yeonmin's shoulders and helped her up.
"...There."
"Thank you. I'm not used to a physical body yet, so I end up making a spectacle of myself like this. I'm worried I might start crawling around next."
Yeonmin seemed embarrassed to have asked for help with something so small, trying to thaw the silence-frozen air with a joke. But Helena could see it clearly. Someday, when Yeonmin's power ran out and she could no longer even walk—when even sitting became too much, and all she could do was lie there—she would try to gloss it over with a joke, just like this.
You really don't understand the human heart, do you, goddess. I don't know how you set my chest on fire like this. Is this the burden you hand to the person you saved? ...Then I'll carry it gladly. You made me live. So it's only right that I make you live, however I have to. I understand now why you wanted to leave me. You didn't want anyone to see you struggling alone. You pour so much care into everyone else. Why are you so cruel to yourself? I won't leave you to die alone and lonely. Never.
As if it weren't already hard enough to manage a body I wasn't used to. Being tied up didn't even give me room to adapt. If I reached out with my thought-form, sitting up would take an instant. But there were probably cameras in this room too. Wouldn't I get caught right away?
Gasp! That alien is using her powers even while wearing restraints! Now let's put a blindfold and a gag on her and lock her in a sensory-deprivation chamber!
That was the kind of scene I'd be looking at.
Of course, that was the worst-case scenario my meager imagination could come up with. There might be even more terrible things than that. Sealing me in concrete, for instance. Or loading me onto a spaceship and shooting me into space.
Anyway, if I wanted to mix in among humans and get along nicely, I had to take a certain stance. I have no intention of harming any of you. I don't even have the ability. See? Don't these restraints look perfectly safe?
So instead of extending my thought-form, I accepted Helena's help—and somehow Helena's attachment got a little more intense...? Just a moment ago she wouldn't even meet my eyes. She helps me sit up once, and now she wants to sleep clinging to me until morning.
"Um, Helena. Isn't this a little uncomfortable?"
Embarrassed, I tried a small complaint. Honestly, by now, "woman" was just a category I preferred because they were nice to look at. But if you plaster a beautiful girl right up against me, I do get a little flustered.
Helena only answered that complaint dryly.
"There's only one bed, so it can't be helped. We have no choice but to sleep close. ...Are you very uncomfortable?"
Still, the fact that she asked at the end made me feel she was considering me, at least. What a good human.
"I-I'm fine, but. If we're stuck together like this, I thought you might get sweaty and uncomfortable. So I..."
I was about to say that for Helena's sake, I should lie somewhere else—the desk, the floor, anywhere—when she suddenly sat up, tugged her collar forward, and gave it a sniff. Then she whipped out of bed and pressed the call button by the headboard.
"Ah, you don't have to call anyone... I can just lie on the floor or the desk."
"I'm going to take a shower. Good grief. I bled and sweated that much and it never even occurred to me I might smell..."
Huh. I hadn't thought of that. I guess Helena is a girl after all. When someone came in and turned on the lights, I saw her face had gone bright red.
Does this mean even Helena, who was consumed by revenge, might be getting her springtime...? Oooh, a love story. This is already fun.