Misunderstanding
Even like this — even after ending up in a woman's body — the truth was that I had lived without a form at all.
It made sense. I had already died once in this world.
So I'd wondered whether there was a separate afterlife waiting, or whether I'd board some reincarnation train. Whether a grim reaper or a psychopomp would come to collect me. Or whether some beautiful girl would appear and chirp, Hi, I'm a goddess!
None of that happened.
Drifting in that dead state, I eventually realized I was wandering through another world. I passed through the five stages — denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance — and then simply grew used to it, and started watching how other people lived.
If someone had no particular spiritual sensitivity, they never even knew I was watching. Those who did have a spark of it, though, got the wrong idea, because I interfered just a little. They decided I was a guardian deity looking after them.
The funny part was this: every time people placed that kind of faith in me, the influence I could exert grew, bit by bit. It felt like a contract, of a sort. They offered me their belief, and I answered it by granting what they wished for — within reason.
That, I suppose, is how I came to be called the goddess of those who have nothing: the Goddess of Compassion, who comes to the abandoned.
I had never once shown my face. I had originally been a man, besides. Maybe they simply assumed that anyone who would reach a hand into a pit of despair must be a tender, maternal goddess. I've even seen the portraits they painted of me, and the statues they raised from their imaginations.
What I'd actually done for them was vanishingly small. They had accomplished the rest themselves.
Ah. Thinking about it now, I finally understand why I became this bewitching woman. The humans I helped had pictured me looking like this. They decided that anyone who helped them must be overflowing with maternal love, and they named me a goddess all on their own.
Well. What can you do. Living as I have, I did come to realize that gender isn't all that important.
Though — is it a little strange to call wandering around dead "living"? Anyway. That's the story.
And the reason I'm telling it is this: image or no image, I originally had no form. Even the body I have now doesn't feel like flesh I was given. It's only that the shape I use to make myself real solidified this way. If I wanted to change it, I probably could. But fussing over every little adjustment would be a pain, wouldn't it? So I just stay like this.
When I need to, though — that's another matter.
I press my hand to the wall and extend my thought-form.
I'm only sitting on the bed, leaning my back against the wall. Even if there's a camera in here, it wouldn't really show.
The reason the thought-forms I sent out in that other world took the shape of tentacles was simply that they were influence stretching from wherever I considered myself to be. There was no need to dress them up, so they became long, undulating stems — and they had no physical substance besides. Passing through walls and wandering the inside of the building was no trouble at all.
A living creature would rely on its senses to learn about its surroundings. But I'm not a living creature, am I? I don't know what you'd call something like me, but if I describe myself as a kind of consciousness, a mind — then extending these tentacles is a way of expanding that consciousness. I just stretch them out, and I can look around.
There are spots here and there that block me. Even then, if I greet them warmly — Hello, mind if I pass through? — they quietly make way.
After slipping through a few walls and wandering a little, I found Helena's interrogation room easily enough. However large this facility was, how far would they isolate people who'd arrived on the same day?
There she was, plain as day: lying in the room three doors down from mine, stroking her own hair. The hair and the button-down that had been stained with dirt and blood were somehow clean now — though still blotched with blood. I don't know if "clean" is the right word once blood is involved. They'd washed her things, I suppose, and the blood just hadn't come out.
The place her fingers kept finding was, of all spots, where a hole had been punched through. No — maybe she was touching it because the place she'd shot herself was whole again.
I felt a quiet pride that I'd saved her, and a flicker of worry that I might have broken her will — and in that moment, the man who'd interrogated me went to her room and tried to interrogate her too. He called the name I'd given him, and that caught Helena's attention. And that was it. They didn't seem able to communicate at all. Then the man suddenly rushed out of the room.
Meanwhile, a middle-aged man with a mustache stepped into mine.
"Hello, Sister. I hope Gyu-jin explained this world to you adequately."
"Ah, so that gentleman's name is Gyu-jin? Well, I did hear that you're going through a process to determine whether I'm a dangerous element — whether I can coexist with all of you peacefully. Other than that, I gather I look dangerous in your eyes."
"Ahaha. However beautiful you may be, Sister, appearance and danger are separate matters. In the ecology of our world, they say the more beautiful something is, the more dangerous it is."
"Ah. But I didn't become this body because I wanted to look like this."
"I didn't ask to look like this either. Hah. But genetics are genetics. What can you do."
Hmm. I'd become this way because the people who imagined me had pictured me like this. This man, though, seemed to think his parents had simply given him the face he had. He looked at me, saw something human-shaped, and decided I was human.
That was more convenient for me, honestly. If you want to approach a cat, it helps to look like a cat. If I was going to mix among humans and watch their stories, being the same kind of human was better. It wasn't only that I would get to watch Helena settle into a new world — I could be there with her. That was a joy in itself.
Of course, I wouldn't intervene in any large way, the way I hadn't before. I would have to play my part.
"Well then… Gyu-jin didn't fill in your name, Sister. Might I ask what it is?"
Small talk was over. The middle-aged agent was finally getting to why he'd come. Gyu-jin probably hadn't been on the job long enough to make any progress, so this one had stepped in himself.
"Hmm. Well. I've never been called by a name, you see. In that other world, I was known as Compassion — the kind that comes to the abandoned."
I could have given him the name I'd used in my previous life. But honestly, the time I'd spent in that other world dwarfed the twenty-odd years I'd lived as a man. Even those memories felt distant, as if I'd only been watching someone else's human life from far away. So I could only offer the name by which I was known now.
The agent smiled, warm and easy.
"Ah — you did welfare work, then? A Sister beautiful even in her heart."
"Oh, you're too kind. I only ever enjoyed watching the brilliant stories people wrote as they rose out of despair. And I don't mean hero's sagas. People who climb out of hardship and then get to live in peace — they treasure that peace. Helena is one of them."
There was a lie detector, so I told him everything honestly. It was also a hint that I meant to live here the way I had there: watching humans. If I stayed this cooperative, perhaps they'd be kind to Helena too. She'd spent a decade living for revenge; she was bound to be a little blunt with people. A misunderstanding could turn into a fight. So I offered what I knew of her as well.
That was when the door burst open and Gyu-jin came in. The way he'd rushed out of Helena's room — this must have been where he was headed.
I had something to feel guilty about, so of course I flinched. Had they caught me slipping my thought-form through the walls? Something had blocked me, come to think of it. In a moment like this, it was better to come clean. Denying it would only cost me their trust.
"Ahaha. You noticed? I just wanted to see if Helena was all right, though."
I even put on a little smiling-eyes look as I said it. The agent in front of me, who knew nothing, turned to Gyu-jin.
"What is it, Gyu-jin? What's going on?"
Gyu-jin scowled hard at me.
"This Sister can interfere with our minds. Helena doesn't speak Korean. She only reacted at all because she heard her own name. But this Sister is speaking our language fluently right now. She's injecting her will into us directly!"
"What!"
Only then did it hit me that I'd made a mistake. Gyu-jin was right: the languages of this world and that one were different. I'd been so glad to hear my mother tongue after so long that I'd simply forgotten. And on top of that, I'd gone and confessed to extending my thought-form.
"And you said you wanted to see Helena… Does that mean you entered my mind? You saw her through my eyes?"
A larger misunderstanding had bloomed. They seemed to think I was controlling them.
"Huh? No. I can interfere with your minds, of course, but only through conversation and persuasion. The same way you can with me, and with other humans. I have no intention of violating your free will."
It seemed they hadn't caught the tentacles, at least. You can't spit on a smiling face, as they say — so I answered calmly, smiling all the while. Even so, both agents drew their wariness up around them and stepped back.
"…When did she even— mental interference. Are the mana restraints completely useless? No wonder the mana concentration in this room is so high…"
Come to think of it, I was wearing cuffs. They only made it a little inconvenient to handle my body; they didn't hinder the tentacles at all. I didn't even know what they meant by mana. Was that what mages used to cast spells? A concept I'd only ever seen in games and fantasy novels, once upon a time.
I was idly wondering how to put them at ease when the older agent began to speak with grim resolve.
"Gyu-jin. I'll hold the Sister here. Go get the Class 1 restraints."
"But, Senior…!"
"Do as I say. And tell my wife she's hideously ugly. I love her anyway."
"Kh— I'm sorry! I'll be back as fast as I can! Please stay alive!"
Gyu-jin even teared up as he fled the room. Watching that, I more or less understood. The cuffs weren't enough; they meant to put something stronger on me. It probably wouldn't interfere much with what I did. My body was only a shape, after all — if I wanted to affect something, I only had to extend my thought-form.
More than anything, the situation born of this misunderstanding was so funny I couldn't help it. A laugh slipped out on its own.
"Pfft — hehehe. I'm not that dangerous. I only want to watch the way all of you live."
"I hope that's true. But you've already interfered with our minds. We have no way of knowing what you might do with us as your pieces, so please understand that we must take every possible precaution. What is a game to a child can be a natural disaster to ants. We are the same."
"Ah, I know. That's why I barely intervened in that other world either."
"And yet you said you saved Helena. If you can kill a human and bring one back, of course we have to be wary. Please, of your mercy, bear with us."
Yes. I could understand that much. After watching so many human faces, would I lack even that much sympathy?
Still — moments like this called for give and take. If you grant something for nothing, the other side grows suspicious. If I made a demand of my own, they would rest easier.
"All right. Then if you'll grant my cruel request, I'll understand."
"A cruel request…?"
"I prefer beautiful women to men, you see. So I'd like you to become a woman. And please move me to the room next to Helena's. We came from the same place — if we're kept this far apart, how anxious do you think she'll be? She can't even speak your language."
This was Negotiation 101. Make an outrageous demand, then ease the intensity by degrees. Moving me next door to Helena was surely better than a man becoming a woman, wasn't it?
"…The latter, we can grant in short order. But how am I supposed to become a woman? That's impossible without a miracle of the gods. Or reincarnating in another dimension and coming back this way…"
I'd expected him to simply look trapped. Instead, without a heartbeat of hesitation, the middle-aged agent was trying to grant my request. It was so strange my head tilted on its own.
"Oh? Is that the sort of answer that comes so easily?"
"…You said that if I didn't accept the proposal, you wouldn't understand us, Sister."
"That's right. I wouldn't understand, and that would be the end of it."
"Yes. That would be the end of it. So… hah. I suppose our children will say they have two mothers."
What? Was "understanding" that necessary? If he didn't understand, couldn't we just go on living that way? And how, exactly, had he heard what I said and arrived at that conclusion?
Had I been away from this world so long that my language was a little broken?
No. I hadn't done anything wrong. From where I was sitting, this man simply wanted to become a woman!
So I ought to grant that wish.
Heehee.
I told the agent cheerfully,
"Then you — close your eyes and picture the woman you consider ideal. It won't hurt. It'll only take a moment."