You Never Know a Person's Heart
"Phew."
I detached the fuel tanks from the flamethrower and the portable mounted flame cannon, then stacked them neatly in the corner. If our numbers and our arsenal kept growing, we'd eventually need a proper armory and a separate magazine—but for now, keeping everything in my room was fine.
"Sara, thanks for the help."
The clock was already crawling toward midnight. I'd finished analyzing the composition of the medicines, which meant it was time to rearm and head out on another recon.
"…"
Sara sat in silence, rubbing her eyes. I picked up one of the water bottles I'd left on the desk.
Condibita — Lemon
Plain water and plain food only ever kept your mood at a flat, unremarkable level. But a decent meal and something that actually tasted good—or a drink with a little kick—could lift your spirits in an instant. Cigarettes and liquor came with side effects, so I figured a soft drink would do the job instead.
— Glug-glug-glug.
I screwed the lid on, shook the bottle hard several times, and pressed it against her cheek.
"Cold—?!"
"Here."
I pressed the drink into her arms as she jumped. The glare she'd been giving me melted away almost at once. She twisted the cap off, took a light sniff—
"Ugh, sour."
—and the moment she drank, her whole body gave a full-body shiver.
"Sorry for keeping you up this late."
"Forget it. Who was the one who offered to help in the first place?"
She drained the bottle right there in her seat, crushed it flat, and chucked it into the trash.
— Clang. Clatter.
"That hit the spot."
She clenched a fist once, glanced at me—
"Haaah."
—and let out a long, heavy sigh.
"Something wrong?"
"Wrong? Wrong… yeah. There is."
She stood, patted the seat like she wanted me to take it, then hopped up onto the workbench herself and started fiddling with a little stick figure she'd bent out of wire.
"Hyunwoo. How long has it been since we met?"
"A long time."
"If it hadn't been for Grandpa, we might never have run into each other at all."
She bent the wire a few more times, straightened it, then set the figure down on the desk. Then she leaned in.
"You started calling me Sara because the name Omen overlapped. Right?"
"Yeah."
"So if there hadn't been any overlap—"
"I would have called you Ms. Omen."
"…"
"…Sara? Miss?"
"Oh, for real."
The forearms crossed over her chest stood out a little more than usual. I swallowed without meaning to.
"How long have you known Dietrich?"
"From the escape until now, so… uh…"
"Did I ask you for the exact date? I'm saying it's less than me, right?"
"Right. Yes. That's right."
"Ms. Sara? Miss Saraaa?"
"Ack! Ow!"
"You go from Mr. Dietrich to Ms. Angela, and me? What the hell am I supposed to be, huh?!"
Her finger jabbed mercilessly into my side; my whole body jerked. It wasn't ticklish so much as sharp and sore.
"It's just—we've asked each other for a lot of favors, so—ow!"
"Ahh, so what I'm doing right now is nothing, is that it? Huh?"
"At least give me a reas—"
"Reason? You densest idiot on the planet. Are you a hibernating bear cub that just got kicked in the ass? Huh? Even a bear knows how to get mad, you dense oaf!"
"Aaagh—whoaaa?!"
I thrashed, and chair and all I went over in spectacular fashion. Even then, Sara's ragged breathing showed no sign of quieting down.
"Hey. Get up. Now."
"…Did I do something wrong?"
I'd thought her affinity was high, the way she'd volunteered to help. A reaction this strong meant there was some resentment underneath.
"Oh, you did wrong, all right."
She crouched beside me where I'd fallen and poked me in the forehead. Poke. Poke.
"Shotguns, bullets, how to make fertilizer, water filters, boilers, showers, plumbing—your head's so packed full that the essential software never even got installed, huh."
There definitely hadn't been this kind of interaction in the game. Maybe it was because this whole situation was a first for me. Maybe meeting them as a family unit from the start had been the real mistake.
"So what are you gonna do about it? I'll just have to teach you from one to ten myself."
"…Teach me?"
One second she was tormenting me; the next she was offering her hand. I took it and stood, and she dusted me off from back to backside with sharp little pats.
"Ack—ow."
There was definitely emotion in those hands. It hurt.
"First. From now on, we drop the formalities."
"…Huh."
"Don't talk back."
A little high-handed, wasn't it?
"Second. From now on, if it isn't 'Sara,' I won't even listen."
"That was already—"
"If it hadn't been for Omen, you would have called me Ms. Omen."
"…"
"Do you actually think—we've gotten close?"
"What you're doing right now feels like it has very little to do with closeness…"
"Grr."
Sara raised both hands like a tiger and dropped into a stance like she was about to pounce. …To my eternal shame, my body flinched.
"Pfft—kuh—khheh."
"…It was a reflex!"
"A reflex. Sure it was."
Only then did her mood seem to lighten. She looked at me with a brighter face and ruffled my hair roughly.
"Don't forget what we talked about today."
Being spun around like that had drained every last drop of energy out of me. My clear head hit the floor; if I lay down right then I was sure I'd pass out cold. But pride wouldn't let me send her off like this.
"…Sara."
"Now that sounds more like it."
"In a country called Korea, there's a culture that prides itself on history and long tradition."
"History? Tradition?"
Whether it was a car crash or an argument, there was one sentence that rang out like the opening gunshot of a fight.
"…How old are you?"
"Twenty-five."
Ah.
Twenty-five?
"I'm twenty-seven."
"So?"
"…I'm the older one, you know."
"Older one—kuh—pfft—o-older."
Somehow the reaction I got was the exact opposite of what I'd intended. After laughing for a long stretch, Sara clamped both hands on my shoulders.
"Ugh—?!"
She shoved me straight back against the wall and brought her face in until our noses nearly touched. …A faint lemon scent drifted from her slightly parted lips.
"…"
The grip in her hands was unmistakable. Heat pulsed from every place our skin met. Deep blue eyes glittered. Breath that had been almost a growl against my face slowly softened into quiet laughter.
"Older?"
Leaving behind a question that didn't sound like a question at all, Sara pulled away, dusted off her clothes, winked once, and walked out of the room.
"…Hah."
I couldn't even get a word out before my legs gave way and I sat down hard. The fact that my backside was on the floor right now was definitely just because I was tired.
Right?
"You look low on energy."
It was a meal we were all sharing. The Newman family had finally gotten some of their strength back, and this was their first breakfast with the rest of us. And the very first thing out of Curtis's mouth was aimed at me.
"Energy?"
"Normally it's what we have to do, where we have to go, what you're going to build—jabber, jabber, jabber every single time. And now you can't even get a biscuit into your mouth in one piece. Crumbs all over the floor."
"Father."
"When it comes to eating, huh? Even if you don't want it, you force it down. That's how you get your strength back."
Coming from the man after last night's age talk, it was almost funny how the same human nature kept showing up. The word "older" I'd thrown at Sara last night—no, tonight?—was starting to feel embarrassing all over again.
"Heh."
As if she could see straight through me, Sara curved her eyes and openly smirked at me. …Even that smirk looked different today.
It really shouldn't have.
"Something happen?"
"Hmm…"
"Who knows?"
But the ones who answered weren't me—they were Diet—no, Angela—and Sara. The two of them looked at each other, startled that they'd spoken at the same time—
"Pfft."
"…"
—and then both went right back to focusing on their food. What was that about?
"A-anyway. Um. Lisa?"
"…!"
The name I called to break the awkward air made Lisa jump. The spoon still stuck in her can shot up toward the ceiling with a clatter.
"Whoa—careful."
Matthew caught it cleanly and gently pressed it back into her hand.
"…Sorry."
"No—if I startled you, that's on me."
Her voice was small enough to crawl into the floorboards, but if you focused you could hear it fine. Thin, and fairly high.
"Getting a little more used to things?"
She nodded, nodded again, then set her food down carefully, as if still wound tight. She swallowed, chewed for a moment—
"…Thank you. For… looking after us… all this time."
The words came out one hesitant piece at a time. Behind her, Matthew wrapped his arms around her and buried his face against the nape of her neck, looking more than a little happy. I'd worried they might feel like they were being "locked up." From the look of things, while we'd been out on the expedition they'd managed to rest with their minds fairly at ease.
"Starting today, do you think you could handle a bit of light physical work?"
"…What kind?"
"Today's recon target is seeds. So we need to start putting the fertilizer and soil we prepared to real use and get the farming setup underway. Think you could handle that while we're out?"
"Farming…"
Her face lit up at once. Like that was the answer she'd been waiting for.
"A vegetable garden?"
"Yes, Matthew. On a somewhat larger scale."
"You should have said so earlier. Before everything went to hell, Lisa used to grow a few tomatoes in the apartment."
If I'd known that, I would have brought it up myself.
"…I'm no farmer, but I remember a little… Actually, I'd rather you left it to me."
"Then how about teaching me?"
Sara took a big bite of her food and suddenly turned toward Lisa.
"I'm getting tired of living on nothing but these cans."
"I'm not sure I'm in any position to teach anyone… but yes. If we're doing it together, anytime."
"Then for recon…"
I was about to turn toward Curtis when a hand shot straight out into my field of view.
"How about me?"
Angela.
"Ah—!"
And right on its heels came Sara's voice.
"No. Angela is fixed on medical duty, so you remember what we said, right?"
"…Right. That's right."
"I—I just realized I need to go on recon."
"Sara, you just got your chance, so you help with the farming."
In the end I turned back to the person I'd meant to ask in the first place.
"Curtis."
"…Pretty young things not to your taste? Well, I've got my charms, but being gay at least isn't my preference."
"Father…"
"Can't a man even joke around here?! My body was aching anyway. Perfect."
I shoved the rest of the biscuit into my mouth and stood. I could feel two pairs of eyes following me the whole way.