First Steps
Helena already knew.
Eyes turning gold. Bullet trails gleaming gold. Even emptying a gun and still firing it on nothing but will — none of that was ordinary.
People called that power conviction. Those who knew Helena's circumstances named it a technique forged from an iron will to avenge her parents. Those who didn't simply gossiped that she must possess some lofty conviction, and that was why she shone with such brilliant gold.
The truth was, Helena herself had no idea what that power was.
That gold they called noble, immortal — it had never been her color to begin with. Blonde hair or not, it paled beside that brilliantly shining gold.
Still, she had wondered, vaguely. If the source of this power was Yeonmin's — the one who had saved her. If it was a power the goddess had bestowed, telling her to try something with it. Was it all right to use it so selfishly?
And then she had gone ahead and used it anyway, with a reckless kind of thinking. If she pointed it the wrong way, it would surely stop her on its own. The bullets imbued with that power had always been good at catching demons. Humans died just fine with a lead round in the head — no gold required.
But now she thought she understood. The thought-form she had glimpsed from Yeonmin was the exact same color as the power she herself wielded.
Of course, it could have been coincidence. Gods each had different tastes and temperaments, so the colors they used to shape their power were usually different; symbolic colors tended to vary. Still, gold was a color few people would dislike.
And yet, to even call it a color felt almost unfair. The thought-form Yeonmin had extended was so faint. If Helena hadn't wielded the same power herself, she might not have been able to see it at all. The elegant curves stretching in place of hands looked as if a little light-dust had merely been sprinkled along their path.
Yeonmin was in an extremely fragile state right now. If Helena didn't send her faith from close by, she would crumple and vanish.
Helena would have liked to serve her god alone, like the saints and Saintesses of myth, and keep her divinity alive. But faith wasn't something that sprang up just because you wanted it to.
Of course she had been saved twice by Yeonmin. No — counting the threats she'd been rescued from without even realizing it, the help was beyond counting. She was endlessly grateful for that unrepayable grace.
But in Helena's mind, faith meant believing that a god could do anything. That belief had to be firm for the god to answer it and wield divine power. And Helena had already seen Yeonmin's fragile form. Yeonmin herself had said she was not omnipotent, and Helena had learned that in her bones. There was no way she could possess the kind of faith that called down miracles.
So perhaps it was only natural that Yeonmin's power had grown so faint.
Helena bit her lip hard. Not that doing so would make her meager faith sprout and flourish. What was she supposed to do with this pitiful goddess of hers?
Unaware of the heart burning inside Helena, Yeonmin was simply smiling, her eyes curving into innocent little crescents.
What a wily goddess.
Once I'd picked a menu Helena would enjoy, and even chosen drinks, something occurred to me a little late.
I can't handle spicy food well. And every lunchbox the two of us picked is spicy!
Realizing that too late, I was about to ask Yegyeong if I could share a little of hers — but she'd also picked something spicy from the morning and already paid. A hearty yukgaejang lunchbox…
Ugh.
I love yukgaejang. I love bone hangover soup. Even when it isn't the morning after drinking, I could eat them for breakfast, lunch, or dinner — mix in the rice and scrape up every last drop of broth. And now I can't eat them because they're spicy!
Yeah, well. The main dish isn't the whole lunchbox, right? So I sneakily glanced at the side dishes.
Why even those are all bright red, I have no idea. If it were ketchup, maybe. Kimchi and salted squid? Ugh. Just looking at them I can feel the heat — my mouth waters and my whole body gives a little shiver. Seasoned bean sprouts? Why did they sprinkle chili powder on those too.
In the end, the only side dish I could eat was a single piece of yellow pickled radish. Across all three lunchboxes. If there were at least some pan-fried meat patties, or other vegetable stews or namul… No, that lunchbox even has grilled meat skewers and soy-braised quail eggs as sides!
"Here, you heat the lunchboxes in this microwave. First take off the outer plastic — it can melt and stick when it gets hot. Then put the lid on like this."
"Like this?"
"Yes, that's right. Hehe. As expected, Lady Helena is a quick study."
But we'd already torn open the packaging. We couldn't return them and pick something else. What can you do? Just eat it. It's not like it matters if I eat nothing anyway. As long as Helena and Yegyeong enjoy their food, that's enough for me.
"Once you've heated them in the microwave, we have two options."
"We're not going to throw them out uneaten. So it's whether we eat here or somewhere else?"
"Exactly. See those empty seats? If you want to chat with other people while you eat, you eat here. If that feels like too much, you take the lunchboxes home. What would you like to do?"
"We've gone to the trouble of heating the food — if we take it back upstairs it'll just get cold. Let's eat here. As long as you two don't mind."
"I'd like all of you to get along with the neighbors, so of course you're welcome. Lady Yeonmin, what do you think?"
In that time the two of them had already decided where we'd eat breakfast. It was a little disappointing that they only asked my opinion after they'd already decided by majority. Well, as long as those two are happy, I don't care what we do.
"I'm fine with it too. The more people who become Helena's friends, the better."
Honestly, a few close friends matter more than a bunch of vaguely friendly people. But to find those people, you need to meet a variety of folks, right? There are quite a few non-human residents here, but you don't have to be the same species to be friends.
So I followed the two of them to a table inside the convenience store. In front of a glass window with a clear view of the boulevard stretching from the villa — a setup made as if they'd created a whole separate dining space.
For a brief moment I wondered what would happen if someone spilled food while eating here. Of course, people would usually clean up after themselves. But if someone just ran off without doing that? Would that Death Knight at the counter put on an apron and come wipe it up with a rag?
While I was swaying back and forth at a scene I couldn't easily imagine, the microwave chimed that the food was done, and Helena and Yegyeong brought it over.
Then two pairs of wooden chopsticks being split apart. Helena, who had only ever used a spoon and fork at every meal, seemed unfamiliar with the utensils. Instead of diving in, she quietly watched Yegyeong use hers.
Then, awkwardly, she picked up a piece of chicken in front of her.
Well done, Helena! Now put that straight into your mouth!
I was cheering her on inwardly, the way you cheer a baby taking its first steps, when the chicken Helena had picked up was shoved into my mouth.
"Mmph — Helena, you should eat it."
"If I'd wanted to eat mine, I would have picked up a spoon. Mine is bone hangover soup…? It's soup. I picked this up to feed you, Yeonmin."
"Wow, I'm so moved."
The first food she'd ever picked up with chopsticks, and she gave it to me first. That was moving enough to bring tears to my eyes for real. So I promptly bit into the chicken Helena held out.
A piece of chicken that size would be perfectly happy if you popped the whole thing in and chewed — but it had just come out of the microwave, so it looked a bit hot. The moment I put half of it in my mouth and started chewing, yesterday's memory flashed through my mind.
The logo of a cute white hamster with its mouth wide open. The viciously spicy chicken drumstick pulled from a plastic bag with that logo. And the hamster drawn on that chicken lunchbox I'd picked because I wanted Helena to enjoy it.
If it was the same brand, made with the same ingredients, the recipe was almost certainly similar.
The instant I sensed that, I stopped chewing. But my teeth had already crushed through the still-crispy batter, even after the microwave, and juices were flowing into my mouth. And riding those juices, fire began to roar.
"Hwaaaaaaaang!"
The tears that had welled up from being moved now trickled right out. Why don't the people of this country know the meaning of moderation! They put spicy stuff in everything…