Kidnapped
The faint fruit scent that always drifted from the left side of the bed was gone.
His hand woke before his eyes did. He groped across the mattress—tap, tap—but his fingers found no horn.
The Demon King wasn't there.
...Where'd she go.
He shuffled into the kitchen, eyes still half-shut, and found a note sitting there in lopsided handwriting. This again?
I kidnapped the horned girl you like. Finish the good deeds I wrote below—they're simple—and I'll send her back.
— The Diabolical Kidnapper
1. Eat all the food I set out. (Feed the Paper Crane too.)
2. Shake out the blanket and air out the room.
3. Sweep the room with a broom and wipe everything down with a dry rag. (If you only sweep, you're in for a real sting of a scolding. I'll inspect. I'll know whether you wiped or not.)
4. Dust off the roof of the paper house.
5. Wipe the bathroom mirror clean. (No handprints allowed.)
6. Only water the first row of cabbages. Don't touch the pumpkins with your hands—snip the shoots nicely with scissors. Trample the carrots into obli—no. Just pull two from the end. And I hear there are seedlings to plant, so dig eight holes.
7. Bored? You're dying to see her, right? Dying to just grab her already? Well... actually, I'm a deeply understanding kidnapper.
And here I thought you were a diabolical kidnapper.
For you, since you're bored. I'll let you play the Like Game. The Demon King wrote ten things on the back of this paper, so you write ten below hers.
A diabolical yet deeply understanding kidnapper. One who'd get along with the Demon King like a house on fire.
There was another sheet behind the paper. A warning, no doubt, about what would happen if he refused.
If you refuse, I might do all sorts of nasty things to your friend. Feed her carrots, maybe. Or drop a Meteor Drive on her? Scary, right?
...Don't put eating carrots and getting hit by a Meteor Drive on the same level.
Yeah, right. Like anyone could kidnap you...
Underneath it all was a drawing of a chimera that I could only assume had started as an attempt at a donkey. Good grief. This kidnapper couldn't draw to save their life.
The Demon King had left the house before. I remembered spending a whole day then, too, working through the various chores she'd assigned.
...Hah.
A deep sigh escaped me at the simple fact that she wasn't here.
Silence.
The Demon King's Castle without the Demon King was no different from a gloomy, dilapidated wreck with godawful lighting.
I picked up the paper she'd left behind.
...Why is there so much of this.
I helped with some of the housework, sure—but laying out her daily schedule like this, I was reminded all over again that my share of it had been the tip of the iceberg.
Even when I tried to help, the industrious Demon King always finished the work before I could so much as touch it.
Ever since I'd come to this world, I'd lived without a moment's rest... but after being locked up in this castle, I'd been leaning on her diligence, enjoying no small amount of convenience.
Which meant this was work I should have been helping with all along. That was a housemate's duty.
Might as well do a good job of it, now that I had the chance.
Blanket first, maybe.
I gathered up the blanket we'd slept under all night and walked to the window. I tightened my grip and shook it out over the sill.
Flap! Flap! Flap!
Careful. One wrong move and the only blanket we had would be taking a high-altitude dive off the 100th floor. The best blanket in this place. The one she'd given me.
I was eating the kimchi pancakes the Demon King had made for breakfast. Same as always, she'd set a bowl down in front of the Paper Crane too. Was this how you were supposed to do it?
The Paper Crane sat there with its head held perfectly straight, and I couldn't tell if it was eating or meditating.
Watching it occupy a seat at the table every morning, large as life, I'd been getting this recurring delusion lately that the thing was actually alive. I'd completely lost it.
"...Is it good?"
"..."
No answer, obviously.
I slumped forward over the table and poked the Paper Crane with a finger. She'd probably hit it with her morning buffs before she left, so even if I brought down a fist that ranked second on the punch machine at Byeolbyeol Arcade in Daehyeon-dong, it'd be fine. I'd be the one ending up as Captain Hook.
"Paper Crane."
"..."
"Yeah, you."
"..."
"I'll take good care of you, just like this. So in a year, could you maybe turn into a game?"
"..."
What was I doing...
I had the distinct, mortifying sense that the Paper Crane was cutting me down where I sat. The hell is this guy saying? Is he an idiot? You think a paper crane's gonna answer you?
"I was just kidding, you little shit. Just eat your food."
I cleaned until the place sparkled—not a speck of dust, like an army barracks right before the division commander storms in for inspection. I was worried she'd slip. Not for her head, of course. For the stone floor that would get smashed to pieces.
And then.
"There. Done."
I was fixing up the bookshelf she'd assembled so clumsily. She hadn't asked me to, but I knew she'd like it. I corrected the left-right symmetry and tapped the protruding nails in so you couldn't even tell.
Looking at those nails, I remembered the Demon King hanging a picture frame in the kitchen.
Where's the hammer?
She'd set a nail against the stone wall with those small white fingers and pressed it in, gentle as the button on a standing lamp. The nail sank into the rock like it was nothing.
Hm? What did you just say?
Nothing. It was nothing.
...? Why'd you suddenly go all polite?
That was the moment my sacred vow to never mouth off to the Demon King for the rest of my life grew even more unshakable.
Tap, tap.
"Looks a lot more decent than before, right?"
I asked the Paper Crane hanging around my neck for a review. It seemed to answer, Yeah. This looks sick as hell.
I dug eight holes, just as the Demon King had instructed.
There was no artificial sun. Well, she'd make it again when she got back.
She knew the right temperature for every vegetable and tuned it with magic, so as long as we had seedlings or seeds, we could grow anything. The plot was small, but for the two of us, it was just right.
Last time we hit the lottery, she'd mentioned that food was starting to run low. She'd probably meant the tasty, precious stuff—meat, ketchup, things like that.
The Demon King always tried to feed me delicious things. As if, otherwise, I'd get sick of this place and leave.
That's not true.
To put her anxiety to rest, I ate everything happily, no matter what she served. I never skipped the compliments, either. And still she seemed uneasy, because every meal she cooked with real care, never sparing our scarce ingredients.
Still. Eating good food was a good feeling. Neither of us had anywhere to spend money anyway. If we ever had extra, food was the best thing to spend it on.
I'd carried out every last one of the Demon King's—no, the kidnapper's—demands. All that was left was to wait for the wicked kidnapper to keep her promise and let her go.
I'd been meaning to make more dolls and fill up the sack a bit, but the doll sack in storage was gone. She'd probably taken it to sell.
...Gulp.
I didn't think the Demon King had gone out to buy groceries. Because the last time I'd caught a cold, she'd blown our entire fortune on plain water some scammer bastard was selling.
But if she'd sold the doll sack and had money now. This time, she might...
...Gulp.
Last time, the Demon King had come back with thunder bird steak and gold kiwi juice. Ridiculously extravagant for our circumstances—but I couldn't help drooling. Conditioned reflex.
...Look at you. Moving up in the world, Baek Dongha.
In this world, food had been like the gasoline a poor man puts in his car. You had to eat. You always put in just enough to keep going.
"Dongha. Thou truly won't eat?"
"Nah. This is enough."
"...A pity. A feast such as this... I could give it to you, if you'd but write your name on a paper."
"Write it where? On a petition to introduce conscription for dark elf youths? No thanks."
"...There are times I simply cannot understand you, Dongha. You'll dance like a boy group, do voice impressions like a clown—and then there are things you refuse so absolutely."
"You'd have to go to the military to know how fucking awful it is. Yuria, you fucking bitch. This is why I hate you. Why I fucking hate you white elves. Draft your pale asses instead and—"
A hiss. A crash of pottery.
Yuria had put an arrow through my rice bowl.
Blue eyes poured killing intent down the length of an arrowhead aimed at my face. Maybe she was aiming for my tongue.
The bowl had shattered, corn porridge spilling across the ground. Blood welled from a cut on my fingertip and mixed with the gruel I'd been eating, smearing over my hand.
This was all the food there was for today.
"Thy words go too far, porter. Hast thou forgotten thy station? I could well put a hole through that insolent tongue of thine."
Yuria was genuinely angry—a rare thing. An arrow pointed at my face.
"Yuria, calm down!"
"Dongha. Just apologize and let's be done with it."
"Nine. If you're not eating that chicken skewer, give it to me."
...Apologize?
The knife-ears in front of me made my blood boil. I'd lose a fight, obviously—but I wanted to run in and crumple that arrogant face. Even if I took an arrow and died for it.
But.
Whether I beat her or lost to her.
Whether I lived or died.
I'd be stuck in this world.
I didn't want that.
I.
I had to go back.
And for that, I needed this trash.
"Sorry."
"...! Thy hand—the blood—!"
Yuria lowered the fletching and rushed over. Then, belatedly, she made a show of examining my hand, pretending to worry.
"I-I am sorry! I had no mind to injure thy hand. Why ever did it go astray..."
...What a show. That bitch.
The moment I tucked my tail, she started acting like a normal person. Piggish greed—win the staring contest and keep her dignity too.
"Let go."
I left Yuria standing there with that clumsily crumpled expression and walked to the stream. I washed the porridge off my hands. Water seeped into the cut and stung.
The sun went down.
I'd been writing out the Like Game for a long time, waiting for her. I'd filled the ten she'd asked for and kept going out of boredom, and somehow I'd made it to number sixty-eight.
Why isn't she back yet?
Was she actually kidnapped?
The Paper Crane occupying her spot on the bed seemed to say, As if... who could kidnap her.
And besides, that ridiculous threat letter was unmistakably the Demon King's work.
...And yet.
She was this late, and ugly thoughts started welling up.
"Hey, kid. I'll give you this ketchup candy if you come with me."
"Kihihit. Okay! I'll go!"
Or.
"Yo, yo. Isn't that red-eyed kid cute? Watch me pick her up."
Footsteps, closing in.
"Hey. You there—pretty enough to fall for in six seconds."
"Hm? You talking to me?"
"Wanna come to my place? I've got a hundred games."
"Kihihit! Okay! I'll go!"
...That's a scenario that could actually happen, though?
With her looks and that innocence, she was more than enough of a target.
Or maybe she'd gotten into a fight with some strange party and something had gone wrong.
My, my hand went to the Paper Crane. When she was anxious, she would sometimes clutch it and pray...
God... please.
I understood that feeling now.
Dawn was getting close. I'd put down the Like Game notebook—I'd made it to number seven hundred and twenty-one—a long time ago.
"I'll be right back."
For some reason it felt like I ought to say something before I left, so I said goodbye to the Paper Crane.
I even wrapped a scarf around my neck, then picked up the bastard sword she'd once used as a kitchen knife. Ridiculously heavy, as expected.
Something was wrong.
Had something happened to her?
The last time she'd gone out, the Demon King had said she'd planted bombs near the entrance.
...Would there be some this time too?
...I still had to go. If I stayed here like this, I was going to explode from the anxiety even without stepping on a bomb.
I strode toward the entrance.
...Please.
Please let the Demon King be safe.
I turned the corner and headed for the door—
"Whoa?"
Right then, the Demon King came in from the other side, a hood pulled over her head. She saw me and pushed it back. To hide the horn, maybe.
"...Hah...!"
The tension drained out of my locked-up body all at once.
A clang.
I dropped the bastard sword I'd been dragging along.
"...Oh my, you came out to meet me!? Did you finish writing the Like G—"
"Hey!"
She jumped when I shouted.
"H-huh?"
"Why are you so late?"
Maybe it was the relief.
Tears pricked at my eyes. I'd spent every day teasing her, calling her Strawberry Cony, calling her Crybaby—if I cried here, what would that make me.
The truth was, I was just insanely grateful she'd come back safe.
I walked up and looked her over, this way and that. White skin. The fruit scent. Even the uwaa uwaa... that spilled from her mouth when she was flustered. All of it was her. Certified genuine.
"Sorry I yelled. I was just so worried."
"...Huh? You, you weren't mad?"
"I was mad. Mad the kidnapper might not give you back."
"...Kihihit! What! So you were worried 'cause I got kidnapped."
She looked a little pleased that her kidnapping bit had landed. I took her hand. Frozen stiff, probably from the cold outside.
"I'm glad."
Somehow, today it felt as though our positions had been reversed.
"Uwoo... sorry I'm late. But I got released as early as I could, 'cause I missed you."
"What made you so late?"
"...Umm..."
"Ah! More importantly, I've got good news."
She pulled an empty sack from her bag and held it up.
"We sold the dolls we made and got money! Now we're gonna save up until we can buy the Life Orb again, 'kay?"
That orb... she still hadn't given up on it.
"There's more good news. Wanna guess?"
"...You bought something tasty?"
The Demon King made a shocked face, then slumped. She'd wanted to surprise me when I least expected it, apparently.
"...Sorry. I'm too quick on the uptake."
"E-even so, you definitely won't know what I bought! Guess! Come on, guess!"
"...Thunder bird steak?"
The Demon King's cheeks puffed up, her surprise gift completely found out.