Inheritor of the Wolf's Blood (8)
Sima Yeomhwa's eyes widened at the tender confession laced with affection. Their pounding heartbeats pressed against each other.
"Do I need another reason?"
His playful voice, forced out while enduring the pain to soothe his little sister, tickled her heart. She gazed at her big brother's chapped lips, roughened by the heat of the explosion. A vulgar urge boiled within her—to stand on tiptoes and press her lips to his. She wanted to surrender everything in the warmth of his embrace.
...But she couldn't. After all, she was a filthy monster, and he was a shining hero. A monster of the Fire Cult, the saintess who would burn the world, just one of countless sown seeds, a dirty bastard child. No matter how she looked at it, she saw no qualification to stand by his side. She shouldn't desire her big brother. It was beyond her station. A monster's role was to die by the hero's hand—not to be loved by him. She couldn't fall in love.
For his sake, she resolved to sort out her feelings and slip from his arms. She brought her delicate hand to his chest and gently pushed. But the embrace didn't loosen.
"No way. I'm not letting you go."
Instead, he pulled her even tighter. It was always like this. If she took one step back, he'd calmly close two steps in. He narrowed the distance at will, oblivious to her heart. He made it race. He made her hope. What a selfish big brother.
"...Why?"
His warmth against her, his gentle voice, his heart—it all made her own beat wildly against her will. Her voice trembled. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled over.
"Because I like you so damn much."
What a vulgar, crude big brother. Without a shred of shame, he hugged her fiercely, whispered softly, and showered her with affection.
"Like I said before, I'm a sticky, greedy bastard. Once something catches my eye, I never let it go. So I'm not letting you go."
She lifted her head to meet the eyes of the greedy wolf. Blood trickled from the wound on his neck. He was stabbed and slashed everywhere—no spot left unscathed.
"Big brother... you don't know me."
"You're right. I don't know a thing. So tell me about yourself. Stay by my side."
"...You'll get hurt again if you're with me."
"It's fine. Just put some ointment on it. Even better if you nurse me."
His strong arms locked her in place, refusing escape, while his soft voice gently pried open the door to her heart. It slipped into the precious girl's core uninvited. Even when she desperately sought reasons to push him away, he bounced them off and charged ahead. He reached the deepest place.
"I... I'm different from you, big brother. I was born... for the devotion of Saoshyant... born to be killed... a monster."
Exhaust all human efforts and await heaven's decree. Or in other words, planning lies with man, success with heaven. Man schemes the affair, but heaven decides its fate.
...This saying came to mind because there was nothing left for me to do but wait for heaven's judgment.
Whoosh— whoosh—!
From the small cave where I'd once caught long-horned beetles with Jang Sambung as a kid, I watched the rain pour down fiercely.
'...It's really coming down like a bitch.'
Just running down the mountain would drain my stamina. Fleeing injured in this downpour was suicide. No way a human should do that.
So I'd taken shelter in the cave for now. Honestly, hiding so casually made me uneasy, but there was no choice. I lacked the ability.
At least, a silver lining: the rain would wash away our escape trail. Plus, only Jang Sambung knew this spot besides me. No immediate risk of discovery.
I'd taken down the pursuers and set off the signal fire by blowing the warehouse—alerting the mountain of trouble. Sure, it might give away our position to enemies, but no helping it. Spreading word outside took priority.
Anyway, I'd done everything within my power. Now, just wait for results.
The dice were cast.
...Personally, I hoped Mukgang the monk would sweep them all away. Otherwise, we were screwed.
"Achoo—! Achoo!!"
The cute sneeze made me whip my head toward Sima Yeomhwa. Her face flushed as she hurriedly turned away. Her ears were beet red—she was clearly embarrassed.
Family, and a bodily function at that—did she really need to be ashamed of a sneeze? That's what I thought, but Yeomhwa was sensitive. Probably touchy about this stuff.
Cold wind seeped into the cave. The rain had definitely dropped the temperature.
I eyed her slightly shivering shoulders. I wanted to build a fire, but no materials, so I scooted behind her and pulled her into a hug, sharing body heat.
"O-Oppa?!"
"Wind's cold. Just stay like this a bit."
"...Okay."
Good, she didn't mind. We leaned together, blankly listening to the rain.
Silence enveloped the cave. I gazed at her small back, wriggling ever so slightly in my arms. She must be as soaked as me, yet she smelled nice. Cute ears, pretty nape, beautifully tended hair.
...Watching Yeomhwa stirred something odd. I naturally found her lovable, unbidden. I'd never seen or heard of her before, yet my body accepted her as kin.
She was Uncle's daughter, so blood-related, sure—but it felt different. Closer, thicker. My reason, viewing her as an outsider, clashed with instinct acknowledging her as family. Distance blurred.
As I mulled this, Yeomhwa fidgeted and whispered in a shaky voice, loud enough to hear clearly.
"Um... Oppa, were you serious about what you said earlier?"
"Huh? What?"
Not forgotten, just said so much my grasp slipped.
"That... you'd stay with me forever."
Not exactly, but close enough. No need to deny, so I nodded.
"Of course I was serious. Why?"
"I... I'm not really your little sister. Is that okay?"
She meant Sima Bu's hidden bastard, not true sister—but I took it differently.
'...Still hung up on being adopted, huh.'
I steeled myself. Brushed off needless worries. From behind, I hugged her trembling from cold and anxiety tight.
Whispered gently, like a lullaby.
"Then let's swear it by the peach tree."
"...Pardon?"
Her eyes blinked at the out-of-nowhere line. But with momentum, I pressed on. Crossed the point of no return.
"Let's swear never to betray each other, to cherish and protect like true family, and love as real siblings."
"...Pardon?!"
"Birth mother and birthday differ, but through oath, we'll become true siblings."
The Peach Garden Oath before the peach tree—famous tale anyone cultured knew.
Problem: Yeomhwa was half-Westerner. No clue about such allusions.
...And devout Zoroastrian where sibling marriage was fine.
To her, my Peach Garden Oath sounded like "let's pick a wedding date."
I'd jabbed lightly to test waters—got a straight right-hook sincerity punch to the chin.
'Th-that means... our kid's name takes a character from each—Hwa-cheon? Man-yeom? Wh-what do I do?! R-right! Gotta decide with Oppa...!!'
Her brain overloaded, thoughts froze. Eyes spun. Body heated, cold vanished. Heart thundered, drowning the rain.