Love You to Death
The hot blood was cooling rapidly. Crimson streams that had run down the back of the hand still clenched around the sword hilt pooled between trembling fingers before dripping onto the floor with soft, steady plops.
Tasha could not shake it off. On the mud-slick ground churned with dirt and blood, Edel lay fallen. Her uniform, the once-white hem, was already soaked through with red, and even the ends of her long, beautiful black hair were clotted with gore, glued to the earth.
Tasha stared at her own hands for a long time. The shaking palms. The skin beneath her nails. The cuffs of her uniform sleeves. Everything was dyed red.
Then the pale lips moved, just barely. Tasha’s gaze drifted downward. Edel was still breathing. Between breaths so thin they seemed ready to snap, an almost inaudible voice slipped out.
Tasha knelt. Edel’s lips moved again. The voice was still too small. Tasha leaned closer. And she heard it.
In that instant her fingertips froze. A single drop of blood slipped from between her fingers.
Plop.
Edel’s eyelids slowly closed.
Tasha did not move. Not her bloodied hands. Not the woman whose breath had stopped. Not the last words still ringing in her ears. Nothing fell out of place.
My place on the deck felt awkward. No one had ordered me away, yet no one had invited me to stay either.
“Hey, little nun.”
In that uncomfortable silence, the first to wave with easy cheer was the big regular pirate I’d met at the tavern on Pirate Island. The one who had pressed dried fruit into my hand before. He dug through his pockets, found nothing, and shrugged.
“Nothing to give today.”
“That’s all right.”
“I’ll bring some next time. In exchange, give me a blessing then.”
The pirate beside him let out a low chuckle. “Sounds good. Put me down for one too.”
“Do I need to start taking reservations?”
“On a pirate ship, the one who grabs first wins.”
The jokes were rough and crude, but the voices carried no malice. Standing among those men at least loosened the knot in my chest a little.
“Seasick?”
“A little.”
“A little means you’re doing well. First-timers usually cling to the rail and start reciting their last words like they’re about to die.”
“Is it that bad?”
“Yeah. Most of their last words are ‘I’m never getting on a ship again,’ which is kind of the problem.”
Laughter erupted. I smiled awkwardly and joined in.
So far, it wasn’t bad. Just as Tasha had said, the pirates were louder than expected and seemed oddly willing to let a random kid tag along.
But the moment I stepped a few paces away from that warm little group, everything changed.
Two pirates who had been laughing by the railing fell silent as I approached. Their eyes flicked toward me, then immediately returned to the sea. The man scrubbing the deck picked up his bucket and walked off before I could pass.
The spot he left was already dry; he simply moved to the opposite side and began scrubbing again. One pirate winding rope met my gaze, spat the nail he’d been holding into his palm, and turned his back without a word.
They never told me to leave. They never told me to move. They simply made way first, as if avoiding me.
It would have been easier if they had said something.
I touched the edge of my nun’s sleeve. Was it because I had come from the Black Anchor’s ship? Did they dislike the child Tasha had suddenly brought aboard? Or did they simply not want an unfamiliar girl on their vessel?
I couldn’t know the answer. Still, doing something was better than standing still. I was already on this ship. I hadn’t chosen to board, but I had. While I was here, I might as well try to get along.
A memory from the naval ship surfaced. Placing my hand on someone’s, reciting a prayer, asking for their safe return. At first it had felt like a scam and I’d been awkward. But surprisingly, everyone liked it. Some jokingly offered their heads; others solemnly extended the backs of their hands.
Tasha had said it in the tavern too. The people of these seas were strangely weak to invisible gods and superstitions; they clung to them desperately.
A formal prayer before sailing. A light blessing that they would return alive. Even the roughest outlaws would stake their lives on something as small as a talisman for comfort.
Maybe it would be all right here too.
I took a small breath and walked toward the pirates who had waved at me earlier with such good humor.
“Excuse me.”
The pirate cleaning his blade looked up sharply.
“What is it, little nun?”
I clasped my hands together.
“Shall I pray for your safe voyage?”
I closed my lips after speaking. In the past I would have stumbled from embarrassment, but this time the words came out surprisingly smooth and natural. The prayer itself felt more familiar now.
The pirate raised an eyebrow.
“Oh.”
The man beside him whistled.
“She really does look like a nun.”
“Can’t you see the habit?”
“Kahaha! All right then. Go ahead. If you can, make the rough seas avoid us.”
The pirate offered the back of his hand. It was rough and calloused. I placed my own on top. Rope scars had hardened at every knuckle, and old scars marked the skin.
I lowered my eyes.
“May the sacred light rest safely upon your harsh winds.”
The laughter on deck grew a little more distant.
“May the waves not block your path, and may you never lose your way home even in darkness.”
Though it wasn’t a formally learned prayer, speaking from the heart made the words flow more gracefully than I expected.
“May everyone who boarded this ship return unharmed, and may those with homes to return to reach them.”
The fingers beneath my hand stiffened for a moment. I lowered my voice for the last line.
“May the sea you have crossed today not become tomorrow’s regret.”
When the prayer ended, the pirate let out a short breath.
“…Not bad.”
“What? That actually sounded pretty good.”
“Do mine too.”
“Make mine longer. My luck’s been terrible lately.”
“I don’t think prayer can fix that.”
“You never know until you try.”
Laughter spread again. This time I smiled too.
More hands reached out. I placed my hand on each one in turn.
“May the wind push at your back.”
“May your wounds close before they deepen.”
“May you protect more than you lose.”
They were short words. They held no great power. Yet while I prayed, the pirates stayed quiet. Those who had been laughing fell silent. Those joking did not pull their hands away.
It seemed a little better. Really, just a little.
Then I lifted my head and met the eyes of pirates standing a short distance away. They had been watching from the beginning but never approached. One lifted a cup that was already empty to his lips. Another tugged unnecessarily at a rope lashed to the railing; the knot was perfectly tight.
One of them moved his hand slightly, as if about to offer the back of it. But the pirate beside him lightly caught his arm. It lasted only a moment. The man whose arm was caught did not look at me. The corner of his mouth simply lifted in an awkward smile.
“Later.”
With only that word, the two went below deck. One of the pirates who had been laughing earlier glanced in their direction, then silently rubbed the back of his own hand.
Embarrassed, I slowly, uselessly lowered my clasped hands.
Those who had received my light blessing smiled with comfort. But in the end, those who had not received it never came closer.
A laugh fell from above.
“Oh.”
It was Tasha. I had no idea how long she had been watching. She leaned her elbows on the railing, looking down at me. Her wind-tousled hair brushed her cheek, but she made no move to fix it.
“You really do look like a proper nun now.”
I quickly hid my hands behind my back.
“You were watching?”
“Yeah. You said you couldn’t do it, but you’re pretty good.”
Tasha jumped down from the railing with a chuckle.
“But you missed one thing.”
“What?”
“Money.”
“…Money?”
“Payment for the prayer.”
Her tone was so matter-of-fact that my answer was delayed.
“It feels strange to charge money for a prayer.”
“Then what were you hoping to get?”
I couldn’t answer right away. The people who had received the prayer had returned to their places. Some were still smiling in this direction; others had turned their backs completely. But both groups were still on the same ship.
“I just… wanted them to believe a little.”
Tasha’s laughter stopped for the briefest moment. Truly only a moment. Then the corner of her mouth rose again.
“From pirates?”
“Not all of them are bad people.”
“True.” Tasha nodded far too easily. “Not all of them are bad.”
The moment I began to feel relieved, Tasha jerked her chin toward the pirates who had received the prayer and returned to their tasks.
“But, little nun.”
“Yes?”
“Did you think they were saints?”
I closed my mouth. Tasha was still smiling.
“They may smile after receiving your prayer today, but tomorrow if a blade is put to their throats, they’ll point out where you are first.”
My fingertips stiffened slightly.
“…Not all of them would do that.”
“Sure.” The answer came far too easily again. Tasha leaned toward me a little.
“That’s why I’m telling you to be more careful.”
A cold sea wind swept between us. The laughter that had sounded close only moments ago now reached us a beat late from across the deck. Tasha laughed again as if nothing had happened.
“So from now on, take something.”
“Take what?”
“A coin, bread, dried fruit. Anything.”
“That would feel even stranger.”
“Is it stranger than praying for free and asking to be believed?”
“…”
“Besides, I told you before.” Tasha spread four fingers, then waved her other hand roughly. “Four to six.”
“Why are you bringing that up here?”
“You did it on my ship.”
“…”
“Rent for the spot.”
I was speechless. Tasha’s shoulders shook as if she found it hilarious. I couldn’t laugh along. The people who had received the prayer were still smiling. Those who had not never looked back.
When the red sun sank blood-red beyond the horizon, the atmosphere on deck changed. Those who had been noisy all day scattered one by one to their places. Some organized the sail lines, others hung wet coats on the railing. Footsteps heading below deck continued.
I was left standing alone among them. No one gave me any work. Nor was there any safe place on this lawless ship where I could stretch my legs and rest.
This was Tasha’s pirate vessel. Yet on this enormous ship, there was no place for me.
“Captain.”
A pirate coming up from the cargo hold called to Tasha. He had short, rough stubble beneath his chin. He glanced at me once, then immediately looked away.
“Where should we put that kid?”
Tasha was removing her wet gloves.
“Anywhere.”
“There is no anywhere.”
“Then somewhere suitable.”
“There is no somewhere suitable either.”
Tasha gave a short laugh.
“Since when has the ship been that full?”
“Since the captain started picking up all sorts of things.”
Low laughter leaked out around us. Tasha laughed too. The bearded pirate waited until the laughter died down before continuing.
“The shared quarters are already packed to bursting. The injured are lying there too.”
“The storeroom?”
“Are you serious?”
Tasha fell silent. Another pirate cut in.
“Leaving her on deck at night would be dangerous with the sea wind.”
“And if the little nun rolls away it’ll be a pain to find her.”
Someone spoke jokingly, but the laughter didn’t last long. Everyone’s words were light, yet no one called me to their side. Not the man who had waved at me in the tavern. Not those who had smiled after receiving the prayer. Not the one who had promised dried fruit. No one.
Tasha leaned against the railing and looked down at me.
“Little nun.”
“Yes.”
“Can you sleep on the floor?”
“…Yes?”
“It’s hard.”
“Ah, yes. It’s fine.”
Even after hearing my answer, Tasha did not move immediately. The bearded pirate spoke quietly.
“Captain.”
At that single word, every gaze on deck turned to Tasha. No further words were needed. The captain had brought her. The captain should handle it.
Tasha received their stares for a while, then gave a short laugh.
“Right. I brought her.”
She turned.
“Follow me.”
“Where?”
“My cabin.”
The area fell silent for a moment. Someone started to whistle but was elbowed by the person beside him and shut his mouth. I couldn’t follow right away. Tasha only turned her head.
“What? Were you hoping I’d give up the bed?”
“No.”
“Good. You know the score.”
Tasha started walking again.
“The bed is mine. I’ll clear one side of the floor for you. Use that.”
“Yes.”
“And don’t touch my things.”
“I won’t.”
“If you do?”
“…I said I won’t.”
Tasha chuckled. I glanced behind me once. The pirates had already returned to their tasks. Some were winding rope, some were shaking out boots, some were heading below deck. I gripped the hem of my habit once, then let go, and followed Tasha.
Tasha’s cabin was nothing like Captain Grain’s. The moment the door opened, the smell of salt rushed in. Several old sea charts were layered on the walls, and the desk was cluttered with folded papers, empty bottles, and dried ink wells. A wet coat hung on the back of the chair. A single glove lay on the floor.
I moved my feet carefully and noticed an old sheet of paper on the edge of the desk. At first I thought it was another chart. But there were words at the bottom.
Commemorating Edel Unnie’s Commissioning
My hand stopped. Edel unnie. The name Captain Grain had called out again and again in her fever.
I tilted my head lower and saw the photograph at the top of the paper. I had seen it before. It was the same photograph I had seen in Captain Grain’s room. Back then one person’s face had been missing, scratched out in black. The face that had been destroyed there was visible here.
Short hair. A crooked, upward smile. Tasha, a little younger than she was now.
“What are you looking at?”
I flinched at the voice. Words wouldn’t come. Tasha glanced at where my gaze had landed, then picked up a blanket from the bed with an indifferent expression.
Just then someone outside called for Tasha.
“Captain.”
Tasha clicked her tongue briefly and tossed the blanket toward me.
“That’s your spot.”
The narrow strip of floor between the bed and the wall. Barely enough room for one person to lie down.
“Go to sleep quickly.”
“…Yes.”
“And don’t wander around with the door open.”
Tasha gripped the doorknob but only turned her head.
“The night sea can swallow a child without leaving a trace.”
Her tone was light. I stood there holding the blanket for a long time. The photograph on the edge of the desk was half-hidden among the papers. Edel unnie. The scratched-out face. The face left intact.
I spread the blanket roughly on the floor and lay down. The hard wood pressed against me. If I shifted even a little, I would touch the wall.
Then a shout came from outside the door.
“Because of that damn brat…!”
Low voices followed, but I couldn’t make out the words. Rough footsteps tangled together and someone passed right by the door. I half-rose. My hand reached for the doorknob. Then I remembered the warning not to wander with the door open.
In the very next instant—
Thud.
A dull sound of something striking wood. A short gasp. Then the shouting stopped.
I pulled my hand back from the knob and retreated. A long while later the door opened. Tasha entered with an expressionless face.
“What?”
She raised an eyebrow the moment she saw me.
“You’re not sleeping?”
No answer came. My gaze went first to the end of Tasha’s sleeve. A dark reddish stain marked it. Not much. But beneath the lantern light the trace was clear.
Tasha followed my gaze and looked at her own sleeve.
“Ah.”
She rubbed it roughly with her fingers, but it didn’t come off.
“It’s not my blood.”
I didn’t know what to say. Tasha closed the door as if nothing had happened, drew a dagger from her belt and set it on the desk, then tossed her wet gloves beside it. A little blood clung to the tip of the sheath as well. Tasha didn’t even glance at it.
“Scared?”
I couldn’t answer immediately. Tasha gave a short laugh.
“…What happened outside?”
“Just the usual on a ship like this.”
“Does it always end like that?”
“It’s a pirate ship.”
That was all. She clearly had no intention of explaining further.
The blood on the sleeve. The dagger on the desk. And the photograph half-hidden among the papers. My gaze returned to it. Tasha’s eyes followed.
The room grew quiet.
“There was… that same photograph in Captain Grain’s room too.”
Tasha remained still.
“In hers, Captain Tasha’s face had been scratched out.”
The sound of waves rolled in low. The writing beneath the photograph caught my eye again.
“Edel unnie.”
When I spoke the name, Tasha’s eyes darkened slightly.
“When Captain Grain had a fever… she kept calling it.”
“…”
“Unnie.”
Tasha did not smile. Only the sound of waves remained in the room. I tightened my grip on the edge of the blanket. I didn’t know if I should ask. The blood that had been on the end of Tasha’s sleeve earlier kept catching my eye. The dagger on the desk. The scratched-out face in Captain Grain’s room. My throat burned.
Still, my lips moved first.
“Captain Grain said… that Captain Tasha killed Edel unnie.”
The waves rolled in once more. Low. Slow.
“Is that true?”
Tasha did not answer. The blood on the sleeve was drying black beneath the lantern light.
A long time later, Tasha’s eyelids slowly lowered. In that moment the sound of the waves receded. The first thing to numb the tip of my nose was a terrible stench. The smell of blood. A metallic reek mixed with wet earth. The acrid scent of burning wood scraping my throat. The floor was slick with mud.
The torn end of a flag sank into a puddle, and a broken spear shaft lay toppled beside it. Someone screamed in the distance. The cry was quickly buried beneath the clash of metal.
In the middle of it all, Edel lay fallen. The white hem of her clothes was soaked red. Blood spread from beneath her chest, running along her waist. Blood stained the ends of her long hair. Wet strands clung to her cheek and the nape of her neck.
Tasha knelt before her. She reached out. Blood touched her. The blood against her palm was no longer hot. It had already cooled a little. Blood ran down the back of her hand and pooled between her fingers. Red seeped beneath her nails. The cuff of her sleeve grew wet.
Edel’s lips moved ever so slightly. No sound came. Tasha leaned closer. The smell of blood thickened. Edel’s breath caught in her throat. It was thin enough to break. Her lips moved once more. This time it was audible.
“Grain…”
Before the words could finish, the rough sound of waves in the room returned. Tasha quietly opened her eyes. The orange lantern light swayed. In the photograph, Edel unnie was still smiling.
I held my breath and stared at Tasha. A long time later, Tasha spoke.
“No.”
Her voice was low and heavy.
“It was Grain who killed her.”
Between the smell of blood, Edel unnie’s last voice echoed once more.
Don’t hate Grain too much.