The Red Flower Falls (10)
The only real difference, if any, would be the eyes. As a powerful mage, Yeon Minha’s irises were stained a deep crimson by the unique hue of her particles, yet the woman in the photograph possessed ordinary irises.
“Wh-why are you staring at a person’s face so intently…?”
Yeon Minha fidgeted with both hands, drawing her outer robe tighter, and shot me a sidelong glance. Beneath it, the thin camisole trimmed with the same white, fluttering lace I had seen in the south peeked through.
“I-I do rather like that bold side of yours… but even so, being this blatant is a little troublesome…”
“My apologies. I remembered seeing a photograph of Senior’s aunt while walking the corridor earlier. They look remarkably alike.”
“…”
Yeon Minha fixed me with a gaze that seemed almost resentful before letting out a heavy sigh. What exactly had displeased her? Whether in the past or now, the emotions of a creature called woman were impossible to predict…
“…I’ve heard it often enough. That I resemble my aunt. But since we’re both women, it’s only natural. In another sense, I also take after my father. My aunt was his twin sister, after all.”
“Does your aunt live in this mansion as well?”
“No. She passed away in an accident the year I was born.”
Yeon Minha shook her head.
“They say she and Father were extremely close. He was devastated at the time. The grief was so great that he burned every photograph except one…”
“I see…”
“Yes. Even the mental pollution that had been relatively stable for Father grew worse afterward… and because he couldn’t respond properly to the Pacheon’s offensive, our family’s position has become somewhat precarious. That’s the situation.”
“…”
“Perhaps the reason Father avoids me is because of that… because I remind him of the sister he cherished… I must work harder… especially now that I’ve regained my health thanks to you…”
Yeon Minha offered me a faint, powerless smile.
She had told me because she trusted me, yet having heard far more of the backstory than necessary to satisfy a small curiosity left my chest strangely heavy. For a moment I worried she might ask the other members of the Red Fire to receive my power as well, but she never once brought up the matter. She must have understood. That it was not something easily done. Controlling a single person like Yeon Minha was one thing; extending that influence would be an entirely different matter.
I was not completely without such thoughts, but the promise I had made with the leader to keep the secret carried far greater weight. For now, it remained nothing more than an unrealistic notion.
“L-let’s stop talking about this. More importantly, how long do you intend to keep me standing here…? I’d like to rest my legs a little…”
“Ah, forgive me.”
When I stepped aside, Yeon Minha walked straight to the chair beside the bed without hesitation. Yet the long hair at the back of her head was far from neat; it was tangled and sticking out wildly. A mistake one would never expect from the usual Yeon Minha. Perhaps she had been too hurried while sneaking down to check it properly. It might embarrass her, so there was probably no need to mention it. Still, it seemed better that I tell her than for the servants or that strict mistress of the house to notice later.
After a brief internal debate, I decided to speak the truth.
“Senior.”
“Yes…?”
“The back of your hair isn’t properly arranged. You should fix it.”
“Wh-what…? Hng…”
Yeon Minha, who had been sitting with her head tilted, frantically patted her hair with both hands. Her face flushed scarlet like a kettle coming to a boil. Seeing her reaction, telling her myself had clearly been the right choice.
“Here’s the comb…”
The moment I turned to hand her the comb I had found after searching the drawer, I instinctively squeezed my eyes shut. Because she was seated, the already short hem of her camisole had ridden up to her thighs. More than half of those pure-white, slender legs were now exposed, and every time she lifted her arms to arrange her hair, the fabric crept even higher.
Surely she wasn’t doing this on purpose. Fearing an impending disaster, I located her outer robe and swiftly draped it over her knees.
“Wh-what…”
Only then did Yeon Minha grasp the situation. Her face burned an even deeper shade of red. She clasped her hands tightly between her legs and glared at me with teary eyes as if she wanted to kill me.
“Y-you pervert… lecher…”
“…”
Her complete reversal left me speechless. I felt somewhat wronged. At least now I understood that Yeon Minha’s reaction no longer stemmed from genuinely seeing me that way.
After keeping her head bowed for a moment, she mumbled something in a voice as small as an ant.
“…Will you?”
“Pardon?”
“I asked if you could comb it for me… The back is hard to reach… and it’s dark around here…”
“…Understood.”
Yes. Since I had brought it up, I ought to take responsibility.
I picked up the comb and moved behind her. Yeon Minha flinched once, cleared her throat, then sat up straight with modest grace. I applied gentle pressure and release with the hand holding the comb, carefully untangling the knotted strands. Before long Yeon Minha fell silent as well, and the quiet guest room filled only with the soft rustling of the comb.
Standing near the crown of her head, the sweet fragrance that always clung to Yeon Minha grew so intense it almost hurt. In all my life I had encountered this kind of scent exactly three times. One was the forget-me-not aroma from my childhood, another was the fresh grass-like scent that came from the principal. And now this luxurious, sweet fragrance emanating from Yeon Minha.
Since arriving at the cradle I had learned that such scents carried the scholarly name of particle scent. It was said to manifest in only the tiniest fraction of exceptionally talented female mages.
“Y-you seem surprisingly accustomed to handling women. You’re more delicate than I expected, and quite considerate too… Is that your weapon? A two-faced flower-and-lightning tactic…”
Perhaps the prolonged silence had grown awkward, because Yeon Minha suddenly uttered words that made no sense in context.
“…I don’t understand what you mean. By the way, the scent that always comes from you, Senior. Is it the particle scent?”
“Huh? Yes, it is. But why…?”
“It’s nothing. I was simply thinking the fragrance is truly pleasant. It feels sweet, yet also leaves a refined, lingering after-scent… What kind of flower is it?”
“G-good… sw-sweet…”
All at once Yeon Minha hung her head, causing the comb in my hand to cut through empty air.
“…How can you say such things so casually…?”
A moment later she lifted her head, cleared her throat a couple of times, and spoke.
“Isn’t it perfectly fine to ask about a scent? What is this fragrance?”
“…I didn’t know either, but the servants once told me it’s very similar to narcissus…”
“Narcissus. That’s not bad at all.”
Among the flowers my mother had planted in our garden during childhood, narcissus had been present. Their appearance and impression truly suited Yeon Minha.
“This is one thing I do like about it. One cannot choose their own particle scent, after all. I once read in a book about a mage whose scent was so horrifically fishy that she had to drench herself in perfume just to go outside… How dreadful…”
Yeon Minha gave a small nod, then suddenly turned her head just enough to meet my eyes while I continued combing her hair.
“…And the reason my scent has grown stronger is because of you.”
“Pardon?”
“It used to be faint and subtle… but after you blocked my mental pollution, it became much more potent. So accept it.”
“…I have no complaints. And shouldn’t it be ‘thanks to’ rather than ‘because of’? It means my ability restored your health and thereby enhanced your magical power as well.”
“Ah, a-anyway…! Th-that is obviously something to be grateful for, but…”
“Good. It’s finished now. Would you like to check?”
Yeon Minha, who had been trying to raise her voice to hide her embarrassment, reached back to touch her hair. Her eyes widened in surprise.
“You really do comb well… You did it that time too…”
I knew exactly which “that time” she meant, but I pretended not to. In truth, I could not help but be skilled at it. Combing someone’s hair was an act far too familiar to me. It was something I had done without missing a single day for several years during my childhood.
'Hyun, I like it best when you comb my hair… Even better than Sister Yeojin…!'
'Really? You’ll comb it for me every single day? It’s a promise, right?'
The hallucination from the past suddenly slipped through the darkness and brushed against my ears once more, but it was instantly scattered by the real voice of the person beside me.
“…Hey. Can I ask you just one thing too…?”
Yeon Minha spoke while twisting the hair I had so carefully combed. Her fidgeting expression told me the young lady had grown newly curious about something. What could it be that she was hesitating so much? I thought I had already asked everything worth asking on the way here.
“What is it?”
“That… perhaps… who is… Yeon-i…?”
But at the name that left her lips, I could only squeeze my eyes shut once more.