A New Name
Back at the police station, the officers who'd been welcoming me immediately started grilling me about where I'd slipped off to in that short time. To be precise, it was less an interrogation and more a stern scolding.
Even so, their fierce expressions terrified me, and now I was huddled in the corner. Just moments ago, the guy had been awkwardly smiling as he asked me questions, but now his face was completely rigid.
"Tch.."
He's got this unnecessarily scary look—it's not like I was frightened just by seeing him. I just felt this oppressive pressure that soured my mood, that's all. If that was enough to scare me, I'd have bigger problems.
Anyway, it was so unfair—why was I suddenly getting chewed out? I shuffled over to the one woman who seemed a bit kinder and asked her. Turns out, I'd vanished without a word, so they'd spent ages combing the streets looking for me.
No way. From my side, it was utterly ridiculous. I'd just stepped out for some fresh air on a whim—why the lecture? I couldn't wrap my head around it. Sure, I'd snuck out with magic, but wasn't it his fault for not noticing? Forget blame; these people had no business caring where I went in the first place.
I plopped down, puffing out my cheeks in a pout. I couldn't exactly snap, "What do you care if I leave?" so I had to swallow the frustration and stew in it silently.
I'm the wronged one here!
"Haa... You're a bigger troublemaker than I thought?"
The woman approached with a sigh. Troublemaker? I'd never stirred up any real mischief.
Irritated for no reason, I turned my head away without responding. At my frosty reaction, she flashed an awkward smile and sat down in front of me.
"Still, it's a relief you came back without a scratch."
Scratch? The worst that could've happened was tripping and scraping my knee while walking.
Unnecessary worry.
"What's your name?"
Name? Right, I didn't have one. But after holing up alone in the mountains for a solid year without seeing a soul, why bother naming myself? Even if I did, it'd just gather dust unused. Besides, giving myself a name felt like it would only make the loneliness hit harder.
Loneliness has a way of burrowing in endlessly once you acknowledge it, tormenting you for ages—so I drowned it out with other distractions. Maybe that's why I'd thrown myself into magic research and potion brewing. Those moments were genuinely fun.
Of course, it was all just a delusion in the end. If I'd mustered the courage to venture out sooner, things never would've spiraled this far.
Anyone hearing I'd hidden deep in the mountains because I thought the outside world was some dangerous isekai would just label me insane.
I dipped my head with a bitter smile. Ah, lost in my own head again.
I couldn't just sit there ignoring her. But what to say? Reusing my old name—a guy's name—wouldn't fly now. I needed a substitute, something fitting.
"Hey. You okay?"
I flinched and glanced up. She was peering down at me with a worried look.
I usually avoided staring at people's faces, but I'd accidentally shown mine. With the hood on, I'd kept my eyes on the ground to avoid mutual glimpses. That one uncle might've gotten a good look before, but I'm not sure. Which meant she was the only one who'd seen it properly.
Without a word, I yanked my hood down low.
Would she ask about the hood? But her question caught me off guard.
"Is it hard to say your name?"
"..?"
Hard to say my name? What kind of random comment was that? Who struggles to utter their own name? Sure, in some fantasy tale or shady alley, maybe—but not something you'd ask a kid like me.
Does she have some quirky worldview? Not entirely wrong in the end, though.
Just blurting out my old college name would scream suspicious. I already looked odd enough. But improvising one on the spot for something I'd use forever? Bad idea. Worse, hesitating might make her think I was faking it, marking me as even shadier.
Shadier? Who knows, but better safe. So, option left: admit I had no name.
Should I say it?
"You okay?"
Had I zoned out too hard? She looked concerned.
She didn't seem the type to harm me. You shouldn't judge by looks, but anyone with taste would rate higher than a mess like me.
Screw it, just say it.
"Um... c-can you... give me a name...?"
"A name?"
Her face twisted into something indescribable. Ah, trap? Busted.
Thinking about it, who begs a total stranger to name them? Saying "I don't have one" might've gotten a pass as weird but plausible—this vague request? No.
One year without a single conversation, and the fallout hits now.
I hung my head in dismay. Please, just don't think I'm a total weirdo.
I was half-praying inwardly when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Looking up, she was forcing a smile down at me.
Why that expression? Pitying me as some psycho?
"W-wait... I...!"
I'm normal!!
"It's okay. You don't have to say."
No, say what? What don't I have to say?!
I knew the conversation had veered off, but it was too late to fix it.
"About the name... yeah. Can I see your face?"
Sure, whatever now. I didn't even respond, and she gently lifted my hood anyway.
Too dumbfounded to stop her, I just sat there blankly as she took in my fully exposed face and gasped in surprise.
"So pretty... white like snow..."
Yeah, pretty—I'll cop to that. Closer to cute with this kid body, though. Still, it had that otherworldly mystique that made her say I didn't seem from this world last time.
"So, can I name you?"
I nodded quietly. Maybe swept up in the moment. With my face already on full display, I couldn't exactly shove her away and say no need.
She studied my face thoughtfully for a bit, then broke into a bright smile like something perfect had clicked.
"How about Han Seol-i?"
Han Seol-i. My hair's more silver than pure white, but it evokes snow all the same—and it fit my overall look perfectly. I'd seen myself in mirrors plenty; I could judge objectively. Not on prettiness, mind you—just the "white as snow" part.
How would a total loner know cute from not? Handsome folks are handsome; the rest of us, including me, are just... not. And true losers claim ignorance if asked.
Doesn't make me special. Point is, this face was objectively that cute.
"Like it?"
Did I? Couldn't think of better myself, and even if it painted me odd, it'd probably slide. No choice.
Resigning inwardly, I nodded.