Bonds
"I've brought the things you asked for… Whoa, that smell is incredible!"
"I roasted some potatoes. Everyone unpack and head straight to the kitchen."
"…Hah, that's the smell of real food."
They should have been exhausted from going back and forth fully armed, yet the moment the Rangers caught the scent of food, their eyes lit up.
"Any chance there's cheese or something? I want to put it on the potatoes."
"Hey, Carlos. The pizza toppings from the MREs."
"Damn, you're a genius."
A single potato had them all chattering away.
In the meantime, I cut the potatoes open one by one.
"What about Sarah?"
"She's sleeping. Should I wake her?"
"…I'll take it to her. James, here."
I handed him a potato split in two, then pointed toward Curtis, who was still heating combat rations in the corner.
"Please take this over quickly. Tell him there's plenty, so don't worry about the amount."
"Heh, will do."
I slipped the one potato I hadn't divided yet into my pocket. Then, clutching a half that still steamed hot in my hands, I left the kitchen.
- Creeeak.
I stepped into the room the Omen family used, the one where Sarah was staying. Her body was turned away from the light spilling through the door as she slept. Did women's hair really grow that fast? It had been short when we first met; now it hung past her shoulders. Completely different from Angela, who had shaved hers clean off.
"Hey, Sarah…."
"…."
"So—"
"I told you to drop the 'Miss.' And… I'm not eating. No appetite."
She must have woken the moment I spoke. Scratching her head as she sat up, Sarah saw what I was holding in both hands. Her eyes went wide.
"What… is that?"
"Potato. The one I… no, the one I brought with me."
"You said you were going to plant these."
"I already planted twelve pieces. This one's… sort of a celebration, I guess."
The way the foil was folded reminded me of the clumsy carnations I used to make as a kid. But unlike those flowers that had fallen to the floor, this potato landed safely in Sarah's hands.
"That survivor group we met back then. They said they might be able to look for vegetable seeds if they could. This isn't the fresh green vegetables I promised, but—still. A vegetable."
"…."
"I'll make sure nothing like that happens again… Sarah. I just wanted everyone to be happy."
And yes, part of my obsession with growing things was wanting to taste the Spam and rice I missed so much. But—
"And… I wanted meal times to feel a little happier, I guess."
I still remembered the way she struggled to get combat rations down. The way she sometimes frowned and sighed whenever she ate greasy food.
"…Are you scolding me for being picky about side dishes right now?"
When Sarah's mouth finally opened, she was smiling. She gazed at me for a long moment, then—
"I was too harsh. I mean… yeah. This is a gift you risked your life for."
She set the potato down beside her.
"I gave that to you so you'd eat it…."
"I am going to eat it. Even if you asked for it back, I wouldn't give it to you now."
Sarah reached out. The hand that caught me pulled me straight in.
"…Ah."
"Thank you."
The arm locked around my chest squeezed so hard I could barely breathe. Even so. Even so, the warmth I felt right then—the soft place against my chest that muscle couldn't cover—
It might not be so bad.
Or maybe it was just the potato tucked in my inner pocket that felt warm?
Yeah, right.
"Ah, that said."
"Ughk!?"
While my guard was down, Sarah's arms tightened further.
"If you ever risk your life again just to give a gift like this, I won't let it slide."
"…I, ugh."
"Answer me."
"I-I got it…! I got it…!"
"And if you're the leader, act like one. Why do you let some doctor push you around and make people worry about you?"
- Thud, thump.
Every time her forehead bumped my shoulder, I rattled. The flesh she held was being crushed so hard it started to throb.
"Next time that bitch pulls some dogshit stunt, I really won't let it go. That goes for you too."
"…."
"I said I'm sick of being left alone at home. Got it?"
And finally, Sarah pressed her forehead to mine, blue eyes wide open.
"…Promise."
I held up my pinky. Sarah snatched it like she was afraid it would escape and hooked her own around it. Then she beamed.
"It's a promise, right?"
I nodded. Only then did Sarah carefully peel the potato and pop a piece into her mouth. She took a big bite of the fluffy flesh—
"Mmmph!"
—and bounced in place where she sat, letting out a happy little hum.
"It's good, it's so good…! Yeah, freeze-dried potatoes, french fries… powdered mashed potatoes, whatever—this is what I wanted to eat! Hwah, hah… mmm."
The moment her teeth touched it, the bright yellow flesh broke apart with a soft crack. It melted into her saliva with a thick, rich sound. Watching her lick every last bit of starch from her fingers made a smile rise on my face all by itself.
Just watching someone eat is enough to fill you up—so that really was true.
"You're not having any?"
"There's still someone else I need to share a potato with."
"…Ahh."
She nodded as if she had already guessed, looking a little sour, but she didn't complain further. After a brief hesitation, though—
"Then at least eat some of this before you go."
"Ah, no, I'll eat later—"
"Now. Right in front of me."
She split the remaining piece in half and held it out. As it drifted closer to my mouth I couldn't quite push it away, so I tried turning my head instead.
"Aaah."
The smile that wasn't really a smile carried a quiet threat. In the end I had no choice but to open my mouth.
"Ughk!?"
She could have just tossed the piece in. Instead she pushed her whole finger in with it.
"There."
I tried opening my jaw as wide as I could so nothing would stick. Even then Sarah scraped every last bit of potato off against my lower teeth before pulling her hand free.
…It was savory.
A little salty, a little sweet… the taste of potato. The kind of taste you would regret missing. Potatoes had a coziness biscuits could never give. A potato had never felt this special before.
Not the dry, chalky biscuits we had been eating. Not the canned meat that wrung every drop of saliva from your tongue with a single bite. Not the rubbery fake cheese that made your whole face scrunch up. None of it came close to a living potato simply roasted.
And.
Probably.
…The strange feeling left behind when Sarah's soft finger brushed across my tongue.
No, no, no.
Wasn't that a little too perverted…?
"Hot food's best when it's still hot. Right?"
"…."
Sarah licked her fingers one by one while watching me, then winked. Those same fingers had been inside my mouth a moment ago.
"Y-yeees…!"
"I'm coming in."
I had been held a little longer than expected, but maybe keeping the potato in my coat's inner pocket had helped. My chest was still warm when I safely entered the infirmary.
"…."
Everyone was excited over roasted potatoes tonight. I couldn't leave just one person unable to smile.
"I… I'll eat later. The combat rations, I mean."
"I prepared dinner knowing you'd say that."
Just as I had with Sarah, I pulled the foil-wrapped potato from my coat and held it out. Sure enough— a warm potato in the apocalypse carried enormous power.
"…Want to try some?"
"Where… did you…."
"I never told you the story, did I?"
Because we hadn't crossed paths. Or because even when we had, I hadn't been able to speak. I laid everything out carefully, slowly, along with the green tea bags I had brought in my pocket.
"…So this is."
"Everyone said it was delicious. Go on."
"All of it…?"
Angela still hadn't removed her mask. Her eyes sparkled a little at the potato, but her voice had no strength.
"It won't taste good if it gets cold."
Twitch, twitch. Her fingers finally began to move little by little, yet they showed no sign of actually reaching for the potato.
"…Why did you come to me?"
What she produced instead was a question. She wouldn't even meet my eyes the way Sarah had. And she didn't look like someone brimming with hope over the potato either. The hand that had been moving eventually went to her wrist. Then both hands disappeared under the desk.
"Why I came."
"Don't you hate me?"
Her voice was trembling.
"Nothing Sarah said was wrong. And in the end I put the person who saved me in danger. Just for that alone… don't I… not deserve this?"
"If Angela hadn't been there—"
"You said you needed a doctor to save people. To help people."
Angela began to sob.
"…What use am I now? All I did was make threats I couldn't take responsibility for."
"Hey."
"Every day, every day I keep remembering what I did. Every time I see my shaved head I hear the things I said. That I would gladly give my life for everyone. And then… when that moment actually came… I couldn't do anything… I— cough, cough, cough!"
Forcing the words out, Angela finally broke into dry, wracking coughs. She clutched her chest as if wringing it out, in pain.
"What could someone like me possibly have done to deserve a potato this warm, this bright, this precious…."
"It was my decision."
Holding Curtis's advice close—about a person who had lost every place to cling to—I stepped nearer to Angela. When I carefully drew her hands out from under the desk… blood covered her fingertips.
"…This."
How hard had she been clawing at her own wrists? There were open wounds.
"You say it was your decision, Hyunwoo, but that's not true."
Even so, Angela looked straight at me without flinching, still wearing the mask.
"I threatened you into it. I said I'd leave if I didn't go, scaring you with words I couldn't take responsibility for—"
"If I had wanted to call off the expedition, I would have turned around the second we met those feral dogs. And—hands. Hands!"
I forced her hands away from the wounds, ransacked a drawer for the alcohol bottle and cotton, pressed spare cloth against the cuts to wipe the blood, then brought the soaked white wad to them.
"Uuugh…!!"
"And even when the snow got heavier. Even when we spotted those cannibals first. At any of those moments we could have gone back. James and I both could have made that choice."
"Then why…."
"Because we respected the choice to save a life."
I laid gauze over the disinfected wounds and wound the bandage firmly. One turn, then another.
"From our very first meeting Curtis chose to trust me instead of pulling the trigger. When I gave Sarah the improvised drugs, both of them chose to trust me instead of shooting. The day we rescued you, Sarah came looking for us too. The Newman family you found… it was one long chain of people risking danger to save other people."
"But outside, outside… people at least spoke the same language, but outside was full of radiation and monsters. Unlike you and Sarah, who actually helped—what about me? I couldn't take responsibility. I couldn't take responsibility for anything…."
"But you know better now. Now. At least right now. I said it back then too. In that snowfield. That you can change."
I carefully wiped the blood from each fingertip and gently took her cold hands. The trembling fingers tried to flee the moment they touched me, but once caught they gave up resisting. Or… maybe they were just leaning in to rest.
"There are people who never reflect. People who dig their heels in until the end. But you're not one of them, Angela."
"…."
"You're a good person."
The potato had gone cold. But Angela's eyes finally turned toward me.
"And more than anything, it wasn't wasted, was it?"
"…Why… would you…."
"Remember how the Rangers went on recon for me today? They found the parts I needed."
"Did it… help?"
"I'll have to check, but if they're the right parts… the time we have to spend monitoring the passages will drop a lot. The Omen family won't have to stand guard either. In a way, Sarah—who got so angry—ends up receiving a lot of help from your choice. Haha…."
"…No, even so, I…."
"Angela."
I pulled a little harder on the hand that had started to slip away. Then I leaned in close enough that my eyes were reflected in the ones that had lost their sky-blue light.
"…They say a leader is there to take responsibility."
Things people said during class president elections. When talking about history and politics. The higher you stand, the more responsibility you bear.
"You think you made the wrong choice, don't you? That we shouldn't have saved you."
"…."
"The one who accepted that wrong choice was me in the end. So the responsibility for this whole thing is mine, right?"
"…What?"
"For a while I won't take part in outside operations. Under the name of disciplinary confinement I'll focus only on crafting and repairs. Safely. For everyone's safety."
I rested a finger on the mask that had begun to move as if she wanted to speak.
"It's already decided. With Sarah's consent—no, if anything it was Sarah's idea."
"…."
When I took my finger away, a tear fell. I wiped it, and more poured out.
"…Why… go this far?"
"Some very wise people gave me a great deal of advice. A whole lot of it."
James, who treated me like the father I never had. Curtis, who had guided me this far. And The Teacher I met in that place.
"At the very least, I want to take responsibility for everyone who has become my people."
Before more tears could fall, I took the completely cold potato. Peeling it was far easier than peeling a hot one.
"The tears might have already seasoned it."
Angela's eyes twitched. The corners rose, then fell. Her face looked like it had glitched, unsure what expression to make.
"Here."
She accepted the neatly peeled potato, then lowered her mask. The short hair wrapped in a white cloth actually suited her now that I looked. She had always been beautiful, after all.
"How is it?"
"…Mom used to, Mom used to make Weisswurst und Kartoffeln, ugh, hic, so, so…."
"Is it good?"
Unable to finish the sentence, Angela nodded so hard the potato nearly mashed in her grip.
"I'll bring some warm tea too. I don't want to watch someone choke to death on a single potato."
The moment I opened the door quickly so the loud sobs wouldn't leak out, I was the one who got caught this time.
"…Hyunwoo."
The mouth that had been chewing the potato so carefully swallowed the last of it with a gulp. Then she carefully stuck out her tongue.
"Fü… Für dich, würde ich… ich alles tun."
"I don't speak German."
"I don't know how to say it in English…."
Still gripping my hand tightly, she hesitated, shed more tears, then—
"…Thank you. Hyunwoo."
I smiled back at the face that was trying so hard to look bright. Only then did the hand holding me let go. She immediately moved to split the potato—
"I already ate. It's fine. Go on, finish the rest. I'll bring the tea."
I declined and hurried toward the kitchen. Since feeding her a warm potato had failed, at least I could give her warm tea. I hoped this would ease even a little of the guilt she carried.
"…Das ist das Mindeste, was ich tun kann."