The Red Flower Falls (5)
His words left the infirmary wrapped in a heavy silence. Yeon Minha suddenly dropped her head, then lifted it again as if nothing had happened.
“Is that all the thanks I get?”
She picked up a wad of cotton with tweezers, soaked it until it dripped with antiseptic, and brought it toward his thigh.
“Leave it. I’ll do it myself.”
“H-hold still. Your hands are far too rough and clumsy for such delicate work… That’s why I’m graciously helping you…”
“…”
The masked student no longer resisted her touch. A faint blush colored Yeon Minha’s cheeks as her trembling fingers approached the wound.
“Nngh…”
The firm texture of his thigh traveled up the metal, and she let out a tiny, involuntary sound. Relieved he hadn’t heard it, she continued her work. With the infirmary cleared of everyone else, only the soft rasp of cotton and the whisper of bandages filled the quiet air.
“…All done.”
“Thank you.”
“Ahem. Ahem.”
Buoyed by his gratitude, Yeon Minha grew bold enough to venture a new suggestion.
“Um… w-would you take off your mask as well…?”
“…Why the mask? In a place like this…”
“I’m keeping watch with my spirits, so it’s perfectly safe. Besides, you might have injuries we can’t see… Since you’re already here, wouldn’t it be better to check everything?”
The suggestion sounded reasonable enough. In the end the masked student nodded reluctantly and began undoing the locks. Click. Click. The mechanisms turned several times while Yeon Minha stared at him, swallowing hard.
“Ah…”
When his face was finally revealed, she couldn’t stop the soft moan that slipped from her lips.
“Is something wrong?”
“N-no… nothing’s wrong…”
Yeon Minha shook her head vigorously. She took a deep breath and let her gaze travel slowly over his features. Once again, her eyes lingered for a long time on the long scar beneath his left eye.
“Ahem. Fortunately there are no other wounds.”
“I see. Then…”
As he moved to replace the mask, Yeon Minha stopped him with obvious urgency.
“W-wait—just stay like that a little longer… You need to rest, too. And proper airflow helps wounds heal faster…”
“You just said there were no injuries on my face—”
“A-anyway…!!”
Caught in her own words, Yeon Minha yelped. The student furrowed his brows in confusion but eventually set the mask quietly on the bedside table without further argument.
“Um… listen…”
Seeing him comply, Yeon Minha breathed a sigh of relief. She hesitated, reading his expression, then spoke again carefully.
“About the ranking match earlier… weren’t you a bit too harsh on your opponent?”
“She refused to surrender even at the cost of her life. The professor assured me it would be fine, so there’s no need for you to worry.”
“Still…”
His tone was decisive, yet an inexplicable anxiety continued to gnaw at her.
“…I understand. And… may I ask one more thing?”
“What is it?”
“During sparring, why do you always aim for the stomach…? Could it be…”
Yeon Minha recalled the book she had discovered by chance at the bookstore not long ago. Captivated by the title Wise Woman’s Methods to Satisfy Men with Dominant and Sadistic Tendencies, she had devoured the entire volume on the spot. But while she had steeled herself to endure whatever trials lay ahead, he answered in a perfectly calm, indifferent voice.
“That area allows you to transmit impact throughout the body while relatively avoiding fatal injury. It’s the ideal target during practice bouts. In a real fight I would have gone for the throat, heart, or temples first.”
“…That’s all?”
At her deflated question he tilted his head, genuinely puzzled.
“Yes. There’s no deeper meaning.”
“…Ugh.”
“Why do you look like that?”
A surge of unjustified resentment rose inside her. Yeon Minha pouted.
“Haa… Never mind. It’s nothing.”
Seeing his still-confused expression, she let out another sigh.
“I’ll be visiting my family home soon. After everything that’s happened, I should show my face in person. I’ve even been granted special leave for a few days because of it…”
“I see. Have a safe—”
“What are you talking about? You’re coming with me, obviously. I can’t sleep if you’re not there…”
“…Ah.”
At his casual farewell, Yeon Minha sulked and pressed him.
He blinked, eyes widening as realization dawned.
“But then my academic schedule…”
“Don’t worry about that. I already submitted the paperwork under the mentoring group experiential activity program…”
He muttered, looking puzzled. “Is that even allowed…?”
“Of course. Didn’t I tell you? I’d show you exactly how much authority a mentor has…”
“…You did. And you definitely said you’d make me roll around like a dog—”
“W-when did I ever say that…!”
Yeon Minha shouted as if she were the wronged party, conveniently rewriting her own memory. The student gave a small laugh and shook his head, clearly unwilling to argue the point. Then his expression shifted into something darker, laced with bitterness.
“Still… is it really all right for someone like me to accompany you? To the private grounds of one of the great noble families… so casually…”
Despite his usual boldness, he occasionally revealed this side of himself. In his gloomy eyes, faint traces of old wounds and inferiority flickered. It was a vulnerability she would never have noticed if their relationship hadn’t improved—if she hadn’t seen past the mask. Yet this abandoned-puppy look only drove her even more insane.
Suppressing the overwhelming urge to pull him into her arms, Yeon Minha answered.
“…Of course it’s all right. Consider it an honor. You’re the first person I’ve met at the cradle whom I’m taking home to my family.”
“I see. Thank you.”
He finally smiled and nodded. Normally he kept his emotions tightly guarded. But because he believed the mask hid him from others, whenever he let his true feelings show, they came with dramatic changes of expression. The bright smile made heat flood her face. Unable to endure any longer, Yeon Minha shot to her feet and turned away.
“…I have work to do, so I’ll go on ahead. Rest properly before you leave.”
Before he could even reply, she burst out of the infirmary. She walked briskly down the empty corridor, muttering under her breath again and again.
“Crazy bitch…”
After Yeon Minha had hurried off as though she truly had urgent business, I lingered a little longer in the ward before preparing to leave. The injury had never been serious to begin with. She had simply fussed over me more than necessary. Even so, I was genuinely grateful for the effort she had poured into it. Thanks to her, I was able to escape that uncomfortable situation quickly.
In the garden along the passage connecting the ward and the cradle, I ran into a familiar student dressed in patient clothes.
“Sorry, leader. I lost. I have no face left…”
It was Mu-young, the strict-looking boy with glasses. He recognized me, approached, and bowed his head deeply. Bandages covered his entire body and a cast encased one arm; the injuries looked quite severe. Come to think of it, his ranking match with Yena had ended in defeat. From what I’d glimpsed in the stands earlier, Yena hadn’t had a single scratch. Perhaps the gap in their skill had been wider than I realized.
“I swore I would win no matter what… It’s so humiliating I can barely lift my head…”
“What humiliation? Anyone can lose.”
Surprisingly, Mu-young possessed a fierce competitive streak. I wasn’t sure why he was apologizing to me, though.
“No. I’m ashamed of myself… After you went through the trouble of securing sponsorship from a major corporation for us…!”
Mu-young shook his head violently. In truth, both he and Yena had asked S&C for support.
“It’s fine. It wasn’t a big deal. And why do you keep calling me leader? The group project ended ages ago.”
“It just feels more comfortable to address you by title.”
Mu-young shrugged. He had seemed to be hurrying as if someone were chasing him when we met, yet he soon became absorbed in conversation and began recounting his match with Yena. He had a genuine talent for vivid storytelling, though I had to filter out the considerable exaggeration and bravado about the opponent who had beaten him.
“…Anyway, her aura was truly ferocious. Even facing her from a distance made my hands and feet tingle. It felt like what it must be like to have Witches right in front of you…”
While he was speaking, an unfamiliar word reached my ears.
“What’s a Witch?”
“Leader, you don’t know about the Witches? Oh dear. So you really are an innocent who knows nothing of the world.”
Mu-young adjusted his glasses with his uninjured hand, making a great show of astonishment.
“Well, fifteen years ago… ugh.”
Just as he began to explain, the presence of someone approaching echoed from afar. Mu-young stopped mid-sentence and sharpened his senses toward the source.
“Sorry. I’ll explain next time. See you later!”
He clicked his tongue in obvious distress and hurried away. Not long after he left, the infirmary’s female staff appeared, panting with exhaustion.
“Student, have you seen a patient wrapped head to toe in bandages? His wounds are severe—he needs immediate treatment…”
“…”
I had no choice but to point them in the direction Mu-young had gone. Soon afterward, from a corner of the garden, a wretched cry rose—like that of a hunted animal being torn apart.