Easing Her Burden
I took a moment to catch my breath, then spoke with a bit more force.
This was no mere answer. It was a vow—to her, and to myself.
"Seo-ah, I'll take responsibility… and make you happy."
At my firm reply, Haeun's eyes went wide, as if she hadn't expected it at all. She wore the dazed look of someone who'd just taken a solid hit, then I caught the faint upward curl at the corner of her mouth.
She still hadn't dropped that suspicious glare, but the open hostility from before seemed to have softened quite a bit.
"…Hmph! All talk and no substance…!"
She snorted and snapped back, yet her voice no longer carried the same edge.
"Just you wait! If you ever make our Seo-ah cry for real, I won't let you off easy, mister!"
With that, Haeun spun on her heel and roughly grabbed the arm of Seo-ah, who still stood with her head bowed and shoulders trembling.
"Come on, Seo-ah! What's the point of talking to a guy like that? I bought you the hottest macarons around—let's go inside and eat!"
And just like that, as if a storm had blown through, she hauled Seo-ah into the room and vanished.
The door slammed shut with a bang that rang out especially loud.
I was left alone on the wooden floor again. The yard that had been so noisy with Haeun's voice only moments before fell quiet once more, as if nothing had happened.
I stared at the closed door for a while, then couldn't stop the soft laugh that slipped out.
She was a completely different type from Seo-ah.
On the battlefield I had seen people bloom and people break. There had been those who stood by me without question, just like that.
Why did a bitter taste linger after the laughter faded?
Anyway.
Seo-ah's friend is no ordinary person.
Maybe having a friend like that at her side was what let Seo-ah endure those hard times even a little. Her rough but sincere scolding and demands actually left me feeling lighter.
Yes. She was right.
I owed Seo-ah a debt I would spend my whole life repaying. And the only way to pay it was to make her the happiest woman in the world.
I rose quietly and finished moving the bags Seo-ah had already started packing earlier. Without hesitation I picked up two bags, one in each hand as if they weighed nothing, and headed for the room that would be mine.
This place was where I would stay from now on—and where I wanted to stay.
The next morning I opened my eyes to an unfamiliar pattern on the ceiling. It was nothing like the cold stone walls or damp cave roofs of the Gate I had wandered through in my dreams—just the ordinary, worn ceiling of a country house.
The blanket was bunched at my feet; I must have tossed and turned all night. Morning sunlight slipped through the gap in the window and gently lit the room.
When I sat up, the bed creaked, and the faint scent of doenjang stew tickled my nose. It felt awkward and strangely comforting at the same time.
After washing my face I stepped out into the yard. Diligent Seo-ah was already out in the vegetable patch. The small but carefully tended plot was lush with green vegetables.
Wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat, she squatted and was driving thin stakes into the ground beside the pepper seedlings that had just begun to grow. The way her slender arms lifted the little hammer and tapped the wooden stakes into the soil looked both precarious and capable.
The fresh morning air, mixed with the smell of earth and grass, sank deep into my lungs. I couldn't even remember the last time I had faced such an ordinary scene.
The vow I had made to Haeun yesterday came back to me.
I would make Seo-ah happy. The first step would have to be lightening her hard daily work, even a little.
I strode into the vegetable patch. At the sound of my footsteps Seo-ah lifted her head. Under the shade of the straw hat her round eyes widened in surprise.
"You're up, Taejun?"
"Yeah."
I answered shortly and stepped up beside her. The small hammer in her hand and the stakes still waiting to be set caught my eye.
"I'll help."
As I spoke I took the hammer from her hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The hammer that should have felt solid was absurdly light in my grip—like a toy.
Seo-ah hesitated for a moment, then nodded and moved aside.
"Then… could you set those stakes over there? Not too deep—just enough to keep the pepper seedlings from falling over."
She pointed carefully with a dirt-smudged finger at the wooden stakes still lying on the ground. I nodded, picked one up, and set it in place.
Then I raised the hammer.
Gently.
Seo-ah's voice lingered in my ear. Right. Gently. Not the force that crushed an orc's skull, not the force that pierced a troll's hide—just enough to fix a fragile wooden stake into soft earth.
I took a deep breath, eased every bit of strength from my arm, and brought the hammer down.
Thud—!
A dull sound, and the hammer in my hand sliced through empty air. The wooden stake I had meant to drive… vanished without a trace. As if nothing had ever been there.
Only a small hole remained in the ground where the stake should have been.
Silence fell.
Uh…
I froze with the hammer still raised. Seo-ah's mouth hung slightly open as she looked back and forth between the vanished stake and the hole in the dirt.
"…Taejun!"
A moment later Seo-ah came to her senses and rushed at me with a cry that was almost a scream.
"I told you to go gently! What are you doing hitting it so hard?!"
She pointed at the remaining hole with a thoroughly upset expression. That stake was probably rocketing toward the Earth's core by now.
I set the hammer down sheepishly. I felt I ought to say something in my defense, but nothing useful came to mind.
"…It's weaker than I thought."
That was all that came out. I really had held back. Compared to the monsters inside the Gates, that wooden stake might as well have been tofu.
Seo-ah stared at me as if she couldn't believe it, then let out a long sigh.
"Haa… Never mind. I'll do it. Taejun, go water the plants over there."
She waved me off in resignation, picked up the hammer again, and moved to a completely different spot to continue working. Just like that I was banished from vegetable-patch duty.
Even while I carried the watering can and watered the vegetables, the vanished stake and Seo-ah's sigh-filled face kept bothering me.
Complete failure on the first try. Adapting to an ordinary life might be far harder than clearing an S-rank Gate.
A few days later I got another chance to help Seo-ah. Mother said we needed to go into town for supplies, so of course I went along. Seo-ah waved her hands at first and said it was fine, but Mother's insistence finally got her into the truck with me.
It had been a long time since I drove an old truck, yet my body adapted surprisingly easily.
"The wind feels so nice."
As we rattled along the country road, Seo-ah gazed out at the scenery and smiled quietly. Just watching her warmed a corner of my heart.
The town market was lively. Shops and stalls selling every kind of goods lined the streets, crowded with people. We started buying everything on the list Mother had written: several sacks of fertilizer, various seeds, parts for repairing farm tools, and assorted household odds and ends.
Our last stop was the mill. Mother had asked us to pick up flour; she ran a small bakery in the neighborhood.
"Five twenty-kilo sacks of flour, please."
Seo-ah ordered with practiced ease. The mill owner hauled out heavy-looking flour sacks from the warehouse and set them down beside the truck. Twenty kilograms—quite a burden even for an average adult man to lift alone. The owner rubbed his lower back as he set them down with effort.
"Here you go."
When I stepped forward confidently, Seo-ah looked at me with worried eyes.
"Taejun, these are heavy… Are you sure? Should we ask the owner to help load them?"
Her anxious voice made me smile. Compared to the gear I had carried inside the Gates, these were feathers.
The magic-stone chunks I hauled as loot were way heavier than this.
"I'm fine."
I spoke as if it were nothing and casually picked up one flour sack—like lifting a pillow—then tossed it lightly into the truck bed.
"Huh…?"
The startled faces of Seo-ah and the mill owner flashed past. Undeterred, I grabbed the next sack. This time two at once—one in each hand. Still effortless. I lifted them easily and tossed them into the bed…
Puff!
"Ack!"
"Whoa!"
The two sacks collided in midair and burst open. A cloud of white flour exploded like a bomb and instantly blanketed everything around us. Seo-ah and I, along with the mill owner standing nearby, were covered head to toe in white powder.
Coughing filled the brief silence that followed. I stared blankly down at the flour coating my hands and clothes. I had thrown them so lightly. Who knew the sacks would be this fragile?
In the flour drifting down like snow, Seo-ah slowly lifted her head and looked at me. White powder clung thickly to her face and hair.
…Cute.
The thought slipped out before any worry about getting scolded, and I scratched my neck awkwardly. Seo-ah said nothing—absolutely nothing—and just stared straight through me. That look seemed to say, I knew this would happen. It was the look of something that had been building ever since the stake incident, ready to explode.
"…I'm sorry."
I apologized with as much sincerity as I could muster.