Yes, I Am Human (8)

*

"It's been a while, Professor."

"It has, Siho."

When I came down from the second floor and reached the lobby, I found Siho trapping the helmet under her boot. Instead of offering a handshake, I handed her my gown first.

"Put this on. Your gown is still at the Bureau, so mine will have to do until you can get it back."

The reason was simple. I wanted the Entities prowling the hospital to mistake her for a 'doctor.' My face was already known here as a physician's, but hers was not.

True to her veteran instincts, she needed no further explanation—Siho simply draped the gown over herself as naturally as breathing.

"Wow, you know the hardest part of clearing a hospital-type haunting is always securing a gown. You've got some seriously good connections."

Rolling up the sleeves to adjust the fit, she tossed out the joke. Clearly, she had plenty of experience infiltrating this kind of anomaly.

Once the gown was settled, she hung her handkerchief over her chest pocket to cover my name tag.

"Most Entities are fooled by the gown alone, but every once in a while you get one that checks names, too."

"So not all of them are sloppy."

"Sloppiness is normal—it's the ones that are meticulous in all the wrong places that kill you."

With that, she kicked the helmet she'd been pinning to the floor. It rolled across the lobby and came to rest beside the carelessly abandoned motorcycle. Neither the bike nor the helmet could possibly have been cheap, yet she handled both with utter disregard.

"Aren't those expensive?"

"It's fine, it's not mine. Besides, that bike used up the last of its life getting us out of Yongsan."

Vrrrm—

As if to prove her point, the engine coughed out one final plume of exhaust and died. She didn't spare the corpse of the bike so much as a glance before turning her back on it.

"So, Professor."

She looked over at me.

"What have you been up to?"

"Ah—I was on my way to get some blood."

"Blood? What, are you planning to string up some nine-tailed fox?"

"No. I think one of my patients is going to need a transfusion. It's a long story—I'll tell you on the way."

I headed up to the second floor in my shirtsleeves, Siho in my gown following behind.

*

"Ahh. So that's how it happened."

The trip to the blood bank was a peaceful one, mostly because I'd chosen a longer but guaranteed-safe route rather than a shortcut. Along the way, I explained everything from the past week: the soldiers' assault, the survivor channel, even the fact that more than half the hospital had Resonated.

Siho walked beside ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me as she listened, carrying an ice box holding four units of transfusion packs.

"Siho, isn't that heavy? Let me take it now."

"Nope, not heavy at all. It's lighter than a motorcycle."

"I'm sorry—what?"

The comparison was so bizarre that I asked her to repeat it, then remembered she was ex-Suppression Department of the Echo Management Bureau and nodded along.

"Right, of course. Not just anyone could run a checkpoint."

"Haha. Thank you for saying so, but..."

With an awkward smile, she let her sentence trail off.

"The truth is, I ranked dead last in combat within my own suppression team. That's why I was assigned to checkpoint duty in the first place."

A bittersweet smile touched her lips.

"Well, every cloud has its silver lining, right? It's the only reason I managed to bolt for the exit the moment the Bureau collapsed."

She was forcing a bright smile. Looking at it, I decided not to dig any deeper.

The conversation lapsed for a moment, but before the silence could turn awkward, we arrived safely at my lab.

"Thank you, Siho. I was able to move around without worrying thanks to you."

"And I got around safe and sound thanks to the gown."

Only when we reached my lab door did she set down the ice box and take off the gown she'd been wearing. Then she raised it to her nose and sniffed.

"?"

When I stared at her in surprise, she shrugged and met my eyes.

"I noticed while I was wearing it—you smell nice, Professor."

"I... beg your pardon?"

"It's strange, isn't it? You've been trapped in here for a week, but you don't smell like it at all."

"...There's a washing machine in the hospital."

"Ooh. I did not know that."

She handed back the neatly folded gown, and I pulled Siho's own gown out of my closet—the one I'd been keeping for her since the day she left the hospital.

"Here you go."

Sniff, sniff.

Without fail, she gave her own gown a smell too.

"Hmm. I see. So you washed them together, then."

With that utterly baffling review, she began to change. When she peeled off the tattered leather jacket, a black t-shirt clinging tightly to her figure was revealed. Apparently aware of just how provocative her body was in a shirt alone, she threw the procedure scrubs over it, then draped the gown across her shoulders like a cape—and with that, Siho's signature look was complete.

"It's been a week since I last wore this outfit, too."

Once she was done changing, I asked the question I'd been saving.

"May I ask you something?"

"Ask away."

"What on earth happened in Yongsan that it took you a whole week?"

"Why? Did you miss me?"

"..."

For an instant I almost answered 'yes' on pure reflex. Luckily, I managed to clamp my mouth shut. Thanks to that precious moment of hesitation, I was able to choose my words with care.

"...I needed you, Siho."

"Hah. The world really won't let talent like mine sit idle, does it."

She puffed out her chest with pride, completely oblivious to what kind of misunderstanding her own question ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠might have invited.

"And just as much as you needed me, the politicians couldn't leave me alone either."

"So you were busy getting all of them out—"

"Nope? Why on earth would I help those people?"

"I'm sorry—what?"

"The higher-ups evacuated themselves the moment things went sideways, I'm sure. I was a little late because I was busy helping the civilians."

She shrugged.

"It was a nasty Entity, too. Back in my Bureau days I'd only ever read its file, never faced it in person, so it took me a week."

"So Yongsan is free of the Echoes now?"

Siho waved a hand.

"Not at all. Only the people I happened to meet got out with me. Yongsan is exactly as it was."

Then, suddenly, she clapped her hands.

"Oh, right, Professor! You said you made a survivor channel, didn't you? I noted down what kind of Entities I ran into on the way out, but I don't know their names or codes. Could you look them up for me?"

"Of course. Go ahead."

I nodded readily and prepared to search the Compendium as she described the Entities' features one by one.

"Shall we start with the National Museum of Korea? It looked like a lot of people were trapped there."

"Yes. The museum..."

I typed the keyword into the Compendium on my phone, and two Echoes immediately appeared.

Broadly speaking, there were two kinds of museum-related Echoes: the kind where the exhibits come alive and roam, and the kind where people become exhibits. Knowing that much was usually enough to identify which was which.

"Now then, which type was—"

At that moment she suddenly pressed up against my side. Her cheek came so close it nearly touched mine, and her hair tickled my nose. A wry smile escaped me at her impatience.

Not that she'd be able to see anything even if she looked.

Thanks to the game's quirk, anyone who wasn't the registered ID holder would see nothing at all.

"I'll read it for you, so have a seat."

But far from backing off, she gave a small nod, as if she'd picked something out from my screen, and murmured:

"Just as I thought."

"Hm? Can you actually see my screen?"

"Professor. Do people ever tell you that you're a bit of an idiot?"

"I'm sorry—what?"

She pointed at my phone.

"When we first met it all seemed so natural that I let it slide, but thinking back, something was off. You told me the game was PC-only, and yet every now and then I'd catch you checking Echo intel on your phone."

Oh no. My mind went completely white. I'd never imagined she would bait a trap like this.

Still—she might just be testing me. With that hope, I blurted out the first excuse that came to mind.

"Well, you see... after you recommended me, a phone app arrived on my device?"

"Ahh. So you got the game notification on your phone the very day you were 'recommended.'"

"..."

I shut my mouth. The smile she wore as she looked at me deepened.

"Professor."

"Yes."

"You possess an app that exists nowhere else in the world, and the person who published the fastest response protocols the moment an Entity appeared just happens to be—"

Siho took a breath, then let it out.

"—a doctor. Coincidence, is it?"

"..."

Realizing that no excuse would save me now, I quietly turned off the screen. When I looked up at her with an awkward smile, the corners of Siho's mouth stretched all the way to her ears. She placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Professor Hippocrates Lee."

"Yes, Siho."

"It seems our relationship is going to be a long one, so let's change how we address each other, shall we? For starters, call me 'Siho'—drop the honorific."

She tapped my phone screen with one finger.

"And first lesson for you, Professor: the concept of psychological warfare. I'll be teaching you how to handle yourself from now on."

"Yes, ma'am."

Thankfully, she wasn't the type to blackmail people over things like this. But my relief at having been caught by someone so benign lasted only a moment.

She moved on to business.

"Naturally, this can't just end here, right? I have conditions."

"..."

I pressed my lips shut. I had no idea what her next proposal would be, but it certainly didn't sound like it would be a light favor. Praying it wasn't some terrifying demand like becoming the permanent owner of the survivor gallery, I waited for her to speak.

Her hand, still resting on my shoulder, slid down and gently took both of my hands. And then, with a grave expression and a low, earnest voice, she made her appeal.

"You're going to have to take responsibility for my meals and my housing from now on."

"...I'm sorry, what?"

"Th-the thing is..."

Siho looked away.

"I don't actually have any cash. Or a house."

"...?"

What on earth was happening now.

It took my brain a little while to process what she'd just said.

*

"Here's the thing—the Bureau never actually paid salaries. We were a secret society, so we couldn't circulate cash; we got paid in points instead."

She explained, pressing her two index fingers together, her voice growing smaller and smaller.

"You'd normally spend those points having someone fetch things for you through Entities. Except..."

Siho scratched the back of her head ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with a sheepish grin.

"Heh. Well. The Bureau went under, didn't it?"

Her cheeks were faintly flushed with embarrassment.

"Then how have you been getting by since it collapsed?"

"I'd ride around on the bike helping people, and they'd give me food and a place to sleep."

"Payment, though?"

"W-well, I did take a little sometimes... but saving people costs a lot of money, so..."

Siho's answer came out in a small voice. All her earlier swagger had vanished; like a child caught misbehaving, her eyes darted every which way.

"Ahh."

She never thought to charge for it.

In other words, Siho had been helping people without ever asking for anything in return. That was probably why she'd spent a whole week in Yongsan—she'd simply been helping, no strings attached.

She's someone for whom the very concept of a transaction doesn't exist.

All at once, everything made sense. She was generous to a fault when it came to protecting people. She helped because she could, expecting nothing, and the result was this: no money, no home.

But she was still human. Nobody could wander the land sleeping under the open sky forever. Unless she was cursed with a gypsy's star, she too would hunger to settle somewhere, someday.

And I could see that hunger in her now.

"You want to put down roots, is that it?"

Siho nodded so hard it was almost violent. Her tied-back hair swayed up and down like a tail, and on top of the pitiful expression she fixed me with wide, sparkling eyes. The full package.

"Professorrr..."

Faced with her pleading, I couldn't help but let a chuckle slip.

She was in no position to be begging.

Does she really not realize the leverage is entirely on her side?

She knew I was Hippocrates. She'd even promised to protect me. If anything, I was the one who ought to be on my knees, offering her house and board and begging her to stay by my side. Begging was my job, not hers.

And yet here she was, clinging to me—because rescuing people felt so self-evidently right to her that she couldn't even imagine putting it on the table as a bargaining chip.

"Please...? I work hard, Professor. I'm a good fighter, too..."

There's no chance this is an act... right?

No—anyone capable of acting this well wouldn't have lived the way she had until now. Come to think of it, if she'd put ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her mind to it, she could have amassed a considerable fortune 'helping' people. She had the skills and the experience; if she truly wanted, carving out her own warlord domain somewhere in Korea wouldn't have been a fantasy.

The fact that she'd kept drifting instead was proof of just how pure she was. A woman who couldn't calculate. The kind some people would call a sucker.

But still—

In a world like this... there's no one more precious.

To me, she was nothing short of a godsend. In this hospital, where swiping meds under the table for one's own safety had become the norm, there was no one rarer than her. And wanting someone that noble to be happy—wasn't that simply what any decent human being would want?

I held out my hand to her, fidgeting as she waited for my decision.

"Siho."

"Yes, Professor?"

"Let me change what I call you first, too."

"Oh—then shall I call you 'Professor' without the honorific?"

"Pfft!"

Her words burst a laugh out of me before I could stop it.

"Just call me Jungwook. Or Jungwook, if you like."

"Oh—then, Jungwook?"

Hope shone through in Siho's voice. She had the eyes of a puppy waiting for a treat.

"So does that mean you'll give me food and a home?"

No matter how I looked at it, that tied-back hair really did look like a wagging tail.

I extended my hand as if to shake on it.

"To do that, I think we first need to break out of this hospital."

She clasped my hand and declared, bright and energetic:

"I'll get every single person here—and you, Professor—out of this hospital within one month!"

Beaming, she pumped my hand up and down with all her might. Her vigorous handshake dragged my whole arm along helplessly. I could only wryly smile and let myself be shaken.

And so, just as our relationship was blossoming into something new—

Knock, knock.

Someone rapped on my lab door. From outside came the voice of my roommate, the professor who shared the room with me.

"Yes—just a moment."

I stopped the handshake and moved toward the door. But the instant I tried to let go, she seized my wrist instead and flung me onto the ragul-ragul—the folding field cot.

Urgh!

Wheezing from the impact, I stared up at Siho.

"What is the meaning of—"

"Now then, Professor! Perfect timing. Checkpoint duty is my specialty, you see."

She flashed a dazzling smile and strode toward the door. Then, with the door between them, she addressed the professor on the other side.

"Hello, Professor. I'm Siho, third-year resident. Dr. Jungwook and I were just consulting about the upcoming board certification exams."

It was, of course, complete nonsense. Siho was no resident. But the thing beyond the door answered as though it genuinely believed she was one.

"Oh, right, Siho—you were here. Guess you two were having a consult, huh."

Ah.

I could only sigh. I'd let my guard down far too completely.

Grin.

Siho smiled and winked at me, her look seeming to say:

— 'See? Now you understand why you need a checkpoint, don't you?'

We'd known each other barely a day, and yet that was exactly what her face seemed to say. I gave her a thumbs-up.

She returned the thumbs-up...

and drew a gun from her cleavage.

"Huh?"

A long, sleek double-barreled shotgun, engraved with sacred-looking filigree.

...What the hell was with that glitch. Why was that coming out of there.

Having fired her chest shot (?), Siho leveled the barrel at the door. And before I could even move to stop her, she called out to the thing on the other side.

"It was a pleasure meeting you,"

She pressed the muzzle against the door and pulled the trigger.

"Arrivederci~"

BANG!

With a short, sharp report, something thick and dark came oozing in from under the door.