As Usual

"...Nnh."

"Hah—"

My eyes flew open before I even realized they'd closed. I frantically groped for the last link in my chain of memory.

I hadn't slept in two days.

I felt like a stone loaded into a giant slingshot stretched to its limit — the second I let my mind wander, the demon of sleep would drag me under. But even after the sun came up, the Demon King was still asleep, her breathing thin and quiet.

I have to hold on.

...hnn...

...!!

I pinched my thigh as hard as I could. Gnh... I wished it'd draw blood. Maybe then the drowsiness would scatter.

I didn't want her to distrust humans — to distrust me — any more than she already did.

I was holding on in a half-unconscious haze when the Demon King rustled under the covers.

A yawn drifted out of her. The sound snapped the last thread of my tension, and I must have fallen asleep right then.

I yanked back the blanket she'd been burrowed under. Nothing. I groped around — not even a trace of warmth remained.

No.

A chilling what-if sent a cold sweat down my spine. I tried to get off the bed without realizing my foot was caught in the blanket, and went down in a spectacular crash.

Ah, shit.

I scrambled up, threw the door open, and headed for the kitchen, footsteps slapping against the floor.

Please don't be crying like yesterday. Just be your usual self.

I whipped around.

Nobody. Nobody at all.

She's in another room, right? She didn't just... vanish, did she?

Thump. Thump.

Suddenly, from behind the corner of the kitchen wall... a dinosaur burst out. A triceratops, I think? One of those horned ones, anyway. The dinosaur stared me down.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"..."

"..."

Thank god.

The dinosaur exploded into smoke, and from inside it she came skipping over, cackling with a look of complete triumph.

"Ta-da! It was me! Ohoho!"

Yep. That's the Demon King. The usual Demon King. She'd probably even run rehearsals while she was setting this up.

"Did I get you? I totally got you, right?"

"Yeah. I almost passed out. See this? My hands are shaking."

"Heehee. Was it a little too scary for an innocent guy like you?"

"Yeah. That's the illusion magic you used during Iron Fist last time, right?"

"Yep yep! Just like when I used it in secret during our bet... ah."

The cowardly horned dinosaur had gotten so pumped she confessed on the spot. I am never playing Iron Fist with this girl again.

"Why'd you break your promise?"

"...What?"

Sitting at the table peeling an apple, she narrowed her crimson eyes and interrogated me from across the way.

"You're really awful. You said you'd watch over me. I can't trust you enough to sleep with you anymore."

Hold on. That has way too much potential to sound weird. Not a word.

"Then you have to pay the penalty. Actually, you already owed me that."

"What are you talking about?"

"Making me a meal. That was the bet."

She meant the game of Red Light, Green Light we'd played for basically the entire day on the Ghost Plateau.

"...I'll make it. Wait."

"Okay. No carrots, though."

I'll dice them down to the molecular level and put them in anyway.

"Right. And... sorry. For falling asleep in the middle."

She popped a slice of peeled apple into my mouth. As I bit down, she grinned.

"...Hehe. What I said just now was a joke. I know you stayed up the whole time."

"..."

"Thank you. I really like that about you — that you don't tell lies."

I shaped the kimchi fried beans into a star and drew a smiling face with ketchup. The Demon King has a big mouth, so I drew the mouth extra wide.

She sat down to critique the food, striking a pose like some reclusive master.

"A pretty star shape. As expected of my prized disciple. I have nothing left to teach you... You may descend the mountain."

"...Can I actually leave?"

"Y-you traitor! You said you wouldn't go down! You said I was better than everything outside the Tower put together!"

What do you want from me.

She took a spoon in her hand. Tasting time.

"My critiques are extremely harsh. They used to call me the Tongue of the Blade. Are you ready?"

The merciless Tongue of the Blade slowly closed her eyes and muttered, as if recalling a blood-soaked past.

Her small mouth took a spoonful of kimchi fried beans and chewed.

"...!"

Then she flinched — a full-body shudder. Whatever happened to all that gravitas from a moment ago, the Tongue of the Blade had apparently pawned it off somewhere, because now she was working the spoon at a frantic clip.

The Demon King is a pretty good cook herself, but I've been ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠through land battles, sea battles, and aerial combat of my own — I've got a different flavor of secret technique. If she was a master artisan who'd honed her own porcelain craft to the extreme, all alone at the top of the Tower, I was more like a wandering dojo-crusher who'd torn through every national tournament.

She was eating with gusto when—

"Uurp!"

The spoon clattered onto the plate.

Then she clapped a hand over her mouth and gagged.

"W-what's wrong?!"

...Don't tell me.

A chilling line I'd heard during our travels suddenly surfaced.

I shot out of my chair and lifted her deathly pale face. She wore an expression of such strain it seemed her breath might stop at any moment.

"What's wrong? What is it?"

"...Uugh... you..."

And as her mouth slowly opened, sitting on her tongue was a tiny, bright-red... carrot.

"..."

"Y-you were trying to kill me, weren't you? You thought I'd just take it?"

Holy shit, you scared the hell out of me.

"Swallow it."

"...N-no."

"Swallow what's in your mouth already. You said it yourself — you get punished if you leave food uneaten."

"..."

That was airtight logic. The Demon King pinched her nose shut with her fingers and forced the carrot down.

She hates it this much... so why can she never, ever leave them out of a recipe...

"Nngh... gulp."

"Good job. Not so bad, right?"

"I might die."

"You're not gonna die."

I'd thinly sliced two carrots and snuck them in, and she'd caught them. Does she have some kind of carrot-detection buff?

"...You. Did you put more carrots in?"

"...I put in one just now. From now on, let's have you eat one carrot a week."

"Wh-why... why me? Why?"

Is this really that big a deal.

"I can't keep eating your carrots for you forever. You should try increasing it little by little too."

"...You won't eat them for me forever?"

"...No, I will eat them. I just want you to eat them with me. They're good for you. Carrots."

This is absolutely not because I've been wolfing down all her carrots lately and I feel like my skin's turning orange.

"...I'll think about it."

Yesterday we'd washed up quickly and gone straight to bed, so the leftover dishes and camping gear still needed to be cleaned up.

Being a fair ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠man, I suggested we split the chores fifty-fifty, but the greedy Demon King proposed a winner-takes-all bet. Honestly, it was probably more that she hadn't played any games yesterday, so the Great Demon King of Gaming was itching for a match.

"This game is... a joke battle."

Just hearing that made my head spin. But I had no choice but to go by the book.

"...How does it work?"

"Ohoho. Simple. We take turns telling jokes. First one to laugh loses, okay?"

What a nightmarish game. I remember with perfect clarity that her sense of humor is completely wrecked.

"Hehe. Back in the day, the kids would just burst out laughing the second I opened my mouth!"

...Wasn't that just the "Oh, boss, you're hilarious" kind of laugh?

Suddenly I remembered a shitty dad joke Sergeant Go used to tell.

You son of a bitch.

He shoves shit into someone else's earhole and then has the gall to punish them for it?

"...What's wrong?"

Crap.

Without realizing it, I'd clenched the Demon King's white hand tight. Of course, it didn't hurt her in the slightest.

"Ahem. Then I'll go first. Here I go!"

She clapped a hand over her mouth as she spoke. Air was leaking out in little pffts. Apparently it was so funny that just imagining it was enough to send her into hysterics.

Bring it on. I'm Baek Dongha. I've been worn down enough to fake a laugh at every dad joke in existence. Forcing a laugh wouldn't even be...

"Something came out of the zebra's pouch — why was the donkey surprised?"

?

What?

"Sorry. I didn't catch that. Say it one more time."

"Pffft... ah, okay okay. I'll say it again."

She said it again, but I still couldn't understand.

"...Why?"

"Because a kangaroo came out of it!"

She said this and then cackled like a balloon inflated to its limit that had finally burst.

I couldn't laugh. I was still too busy trying to assemble the linguistic puzzle through sheer cognitive dissonance.

Why would a kangaroo be inside a zebra's pouch? Why would a donkey be surprised to see that? No, wait, why the hell does a zebra even have a pouch? Was she trying to say the donkey was surprised because a zebra was inside a kangaroo's pouch? No, even a foal wouldn't fit in an adult kangaroo's belly.

"...I-it's not funny?"

She looked at me with an expression of genuine disbelief as I sat there pondering in complete seriousness.

"...Yeah. Sorry."

After that she kept firing off her secret-weapon gags. There was clearly no language barrier, and yet I didn't laugh even once. This wasn't even in the realm of "not funny." This was a completely different dimensional level.

Demonkind... you poor bastards...

What kind of war have you been fighting all this time...

I realized now that it wasn't that she was generous with her reactions — all demons must just have great reactions. I offered a brief bow of respect to the demons who had been forced to laugh at these monstrous words, their jaw joints abused in the process.

The bet with her was finally settled by a joke I told.

"Sesame oil and sugar got in a fight, and sugar went to jail. Know why?"

"Why... why? Why'd they even fight? Mmm... why...?"

"Because sesame oil pressed charges."

When I delivered the punchline of the low-grade gag I'd learned from Sergeant Go, she pinched her own cheeks wildly trying to hold it in, then finally couldn't take it and burst out laughing.

And so the utterly trivial contest came to a close.

...She'd never had anyone to talk to, so of course she'd ended up with a sense of humor this strange.

After a few rounds of Bubble Bobble with the Demon King after the meal, I lay down on the bed.

Right now my head was completely full of thoughts about her.

All day long, the Demon King had been her usual self. She hadn't shown any of yesterday's sadness. As if it had never happened. Like a coin flipped onto its face, refusing to show the other side.

...This had happened before.

The night we'd held an arm-wrestling tournament with the skeletons. The next day she'd treated me like nothing was wrong.

This must be how she keeps from breaking.

Leaning on strange jokes and laughing by herself. Living without letting the painful things, the sadness, pile up.

There's only so ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠much sorrow you can accumulate and still be capable of hurting from it. If too much has already stacked up, and more is only going to keep stacking... then it's better to punch a hole in your feelings and let it pour out as fast as it collects.

And if someone asked me who the hell I think I am, acting like I've got the Demon King all figured out—

...Because I did too. I was the same.

Because I survived in this world the same way she did.

Footsteps tapped in the hallway. I turned my head. The Demon King.

"...H-how come?"

It was the Demon King. She was staring with bewildered eyes at my door, which unlike usual was standing wide open.

"...Why didn't you close it?"

Had she been planning to spend another night crouched in front of the open door?

"...I'm not going to close it anymore."

"Huh?"

"I'm saying I won't close the door. From now on."

"...Huh? W-wait, then..."

With the door that would have hidden her as she sat there now gone, the Demon King had no idea what to do.

"Wanna come in?"

"...I-is that okay?"

"Yeah."

At that, the Demon King came running in a single bound. Then she crouched down right at the foot of the bed.

"...Heh."

...That's not what I meant.

"Get up here. It's cold."

"F-for real?"

As if afraid I might take it back, she quickly burrowed into the blanket and wriggled around.

"Eheheh. Two nights in a row. This is the best."

"...From now on."

"Huh?"

At that, the Demon King's mouth fell open like she'd just won the lottery.

"...F-for real? Really?"

"...I never told you not to come in the first place."

"Oh, that's true... n-no. I still can't believe it."

Saying that, the Demon King got down from the bed and ran to her own room. When she came back, she held out a pen and paper.

"Here. Write me a pledge."

"...Alright."