Only I Was Human (2)
Leaning my head on Adelaide's shoulder as I slept had left my neck stiff, but surprisingly, it wasn't uncomfortable at all. She still had her eyes closed—even breaths rising and falling. Was she asleep? In the end, I kept her fixed in my gaze for a good long while. Those dark shadows under her eyes gnawed at me especially. She'd been the one standing vigil every single night until now.
"Awake?"
"……Yeah."
"Let's head out right away. Saw a path beyond the meadow."
"The one from yesterday?"
"Checked it more last night. It's definitely a well-trodden road."
"Okay."
"……."
"What?"
Adelaide glanced at me, then nodded slowly.
"You need to cover up too."
"Huh?"
"Your hair. That silver stands out way too much."
"……It's been fine so far."
"We haven't run into anyone yet."
"Fair point."
Yeah, if there's a village, we'll cross paths with people. Silver hair and red eyes—that combo was unforgettable no matter how you sliced it. Had rumors of the Demon King reached this far? No sense giving anyone a reason to grab us.
Adelaide pulled out a scrap of cloth—cut from her own clothes, probably.
"Come here."
"……You're doing it yourself?"
"We both know it'd slip right off if you tried."
"……Okay."
I stepped closer cautiously, and she folded the cloth, laid it over my head, and tied it secure. A few strands of bangs poked out; she tucked those in too, fingers pressing them down firmly.
"Good now?"
"Done. But your eyes... no hiding those."
"Just keep my head down?"
"That'd look even more suspicious."
"……Then what?"
"Steer clear of trouble."
I poked at it with my palm—seemed solid enough.
"Let's go."
The path she mentioned was easy to spot. Wheel ruts pressed deep into the grass. Someone hauling a cart, maybe. We walked side by side, half a step apart like yesterday.
"Might be a village nearby."
"Think so?"
"Ruts this fresh? Yeah."
"Ah."
"We'll hear it soon enough anyway. Need water at least."
Adelaide shook her leather pouch—barely a slosh left. Food and water were running low too.
"Adel."
"What."
"You know the area?"
"First time for me. But a hamlet or two, probably. Keep going, and you hit Istius."
"Istius is definitely off-limits."
"Word of the Demon King subjugation would've reached there."
"……Even if I'm the ex-Demon King."
"Doesn't matter what you think—the world doesn't care."
"Cold as ice."
"Just facts."
I shut my mouth. We crested a hill, and trees thickened, fields peeking through. Wheat? Barley? Some grain unique to this world—low stalks in neat rows. Fields meant villages; villages meant people.
"……There."
Following her gaze, I spotted rooftops through the trees. Tiny. Way smaller than Istius, even smaller than my first village—the one I torched. Maybe ten buildings, tops. Places like this existed too. Backwater enough that war and Demon King talk never touched them.
As we neared the entrance—barely a road—Adelaide scanned first. Two men in the fields, one woman by the well. As I eyed them warily, one waved our way. Innocent gesture, but my shoulders jumped anyway. Someone smiling at me? Felt alien.
Village memories were all flames, blood, screams. Adelaide gave a light nod back; I managed an awkward one after.
"Fill up water and bounce? Or rest a bit?"
"……First roof over our heads in days."
"Slept in a barn last night."
"That was a barn."
She eyed me, shook her head.
"Fine. If they've got lodging."
The village inside was tidy. Dirt paths, no trash; houses simple and humble.
"Clean place."
"Few people. Not much to throw away."
Passing houses, a middle-aged woman washing clothes by her door looked up.
"Passing through?"
"Yes…… Looking for a night’s stay."
"Got an empty room. Can let it till dinner."
"……How much?"
"One coin."
Adelaide fished a coin from her pouch—emergency stash, probably. The woman stood, led us back. Small room tacked to the house rear. Wooden bed, table, chair. Tiny window. Paradise compared to recent spots. Blankets, pillow—and a door.
I pressed the bed. No springs, but not straw—good enough.
"Blankets are old, but clean."
"Thank you."
"Water from the well. Bucket's there."
"Yes, thank you."
Adelaide bowed. Woman left; just us two.
"One bed."
"You take it."
"You take it, Adel. You've guarded nights on end."
"Your wound—"
"Healed."
"……."
"Floor's fine."
"You?"
"Yeah."
"No."
"Why."
"Floor's cold."
"Colder than a cave?"
"Just do it."
She only cared if she was comfy. After bickering, we agreed to share. Wider than expected. Or maybe because we were both women now. One used to be a man, though.
Untying the cloth, silver hair cascaded down.
"Stuffy as hell."
"Wear it tomorrow. Don't lose it."
"……You tied it. Do it again tomorrow?"
"……."
No answer—she just turned her back, claiming the bed's edge. We hugged our sides. Eyes shut, but sleep wouldn't come. Her breathing from behind.
"……Asleep?"
"No."
"Me neither."
"……Yeah."
"……Bed after forever, and no sleep."
"Tension releases—sometimes it skips you."
"……That it?"
"Soldiers did it. Crash in battle, then pull all-nighters back at barracks."
"……You too?"
"Different for me."
"How?"
"Anywhere, anytime. Eyes close, I'm out."
"……Then why not now?"
"……."
"……Forget it. Not curious anyway."
What'd I expect? Sat up, abandoning sleep. Afternoon sun dipping outside. We decided to scout the village.
Quick loop. Twenty folks maybe. Kids stared curiously then fled giggling; one elder waved casually. Filling waterskins at the well, a man from the fields approached.
"Travelers?"
"Yes."
"From far?"
"East."
Adelaide's curt reply. Man's face twitched at "east"—Land of Darkness direction. No normal folk went there. Few more words: weather, roads. Empty chatter. I pretended to draw water, watching villagers. Elder whittling wood by his door—precise knife work. Kid crouched nearby, mesmerized. Grandpa and grandkid, probably.
……Peaceful. People living normal lives here too.
"What're you staring at?"
"……That old man."
"……Why?"
"Nothing. Just... nice."
"……Weird."
Villagers' interest ended there. No prying, no shunning. World could burn; their routine didn't care. Demon King, Hero—those words hadn't reached here. Relieved me more than it should. Blending with folks who had no clue who we were.
Lingering by the well, our hostess returned—basket of red fruit in hand.
"Take these. Good harvest this year."
Palm-sized, deep crimson. Unlike the dark-purple ones from the Land of Darkness. Adelaide accepted with a nod. Woman left.
"Safe to eat?"
"Want me to go first?"
"……No. Together."
Slipped out natural. Together felt right now. When'd that word get so easy?
Adelaide bit first—juice dribbling down her chin. I followed.
"……Tasty."
"Yeah."
"Nothing like the Land of Darkness ones."
"Don't compare."
Evening came quick, delicious scents wafting. Kids called inside, field workers home. My stomach growled loud; Adelaide stifled a laugh. Stung my pride—face heating—till our hostess called.
"Sit."
"……Thank you."
"……Thanks."
Hosting dinner? Stew in wooden bowls—sparse, humble. But real food after days. We sat, spoons up.
"……This is good too."
"Yeah, tasty."
"Glad it suits."
One coin for this kindness. My old village had folks like her too. No questions, just food, fruit. Thought hit; spoon slipped from limp fingers. Hope Adelaide missed it.
Emptied bowls, stepped out—stars blanketing the sky.
"……Stars look pretty here."
"Stars are always pretty."
"Close enough to touch."
"Not quite."
"Why contradict everything."
"Don't like it?"
Laughed at that. Pointless talk, no direction, no end. That's why it felt good. Short chat later, back to the room. No curtain—shadows stretched long.
Adelaide claimed the edge first—ready for intruders. I took the wall, quilt to my chin. Fought drooping lids. One reason: something outside nagged me.
Soon, her breaths evened. Asleep. She'd guarded every night; this was my bare minimum. Something moved past the window. Sat up—moonlit, two riders at the entrance. Neat coats instead of armor, swords at hips. Paused, then passed. Didn't enter. Good.
Heart pounding when I snapped to. Adelaide deep asleep. Wake her? She'd pack and bolt into the night. But she hadn't slept proper. First real bed. Let her rest. Probably nothing.
……Probably.
Tonight, I watch. Tried extending a shadow—faint tendril writhed from my palm. Barely past fingertips. Because no kills? Irked me. Stayed awake till dawn.