Do You Love Me?
Even after stepping out of the car, Yukiko stood there in a daze, watching her master stride ahead. His words about introducing her to someone circled painfully in her mind. He had made it clear: if she didn't want to go, there was no need to follow—her will mattered most. The hypothesis she'd clung to—that her master wasn't the type to let someone steal his possession away—was on the verge of revelation. No matter who she was about to meet, one thing was obvious: he was trying to cut her loose.
The murky emotion that had filled her chest since yesterday now seeped into her limbs, leaving them numb and prickling. "Are you feeling unwell? Did I drag you here against your will...? I'm sorry—should we head straight home?"
The offer to return home was a massive temptation for Yukiko. It meant she could turn away from the reality of being discarded as a worthless failure, away from the fact of leaving her master's side. Like dangling a juicy morsel before a starving man, he tempted her with kind words that carried the warm scent of consideration.
"There's nothing wrong with my body. Let's go."
Even so, Yukiko forced her feet to move. Life here was far more comfortable than back in her family home, but she didn't want to survive by begging for her master's mercy. She walked on like a lamb led to the slaughter.
Yukiko hadn't spent that long with her master, but the thought of him handing her body over to another man was unbearable. Just as despair was swallowing her whole, a cheerful greeting snapped her back to reality.
"Welcome! Oh! Y-You brought the... voluntary sexual service volunteer too?"
It was a familiar face. Just her master's dedicated civil servant—no threat whatsoever.
"S-So... this is the person you wanted to introduce me to?"
Her master smiled and confirmed it. Yukiko, still barely compos mentis, prattled on with idle chit-chat, letting words spill from her mouth unchecked. She regretted not silencing her phone. Slipping away for personal business during a meeting to entertain her master was inexcusable rudeness. And for him to notice and tell her to "take it" with such consideration only deepened her shame.
"You didn't pick up this morning."
Her foster mother's voice dropped cold as ice. But to Yukiko, the distant foster mother paled against her master, who could vanish at any moment.
"I'm in the middle of something important. I'll hang up now."
"Insolent brat. But since the job's going well, I'll let it slide. That man clearly has an attachment to you."
"You don't seem to grasp the situation here. I could be thrown out tomorrow."
Yukiko expected her foster mother to rage, but instead, she laughed—a sound Yukiko had never heard from her during all their time together. Unsure how to respond, Yukiko froze.
"Foolish child... This might be my mistake. I tried to keep you pure, untouched by men, but you've ended up as a girl who doesn't even understand a man's heart."
Once the heartfelt mockery ended, her foster mother reverted to icy command. "Anyway, proceed with the plan. At minimum, secure a connection to someone close to the Demon General."
Yukiko tried to protest, but the line had already gone dead. Her foster mother had been the one insisting from the start that she wrap things up quickly—no grounds to call back.
/////
For Yukiko, sensations like "enjoyment" or "comfort" weren't concepts she could readily grasp. Just as someone immersed in happiness might not recognize it as such, those mired in steady, reliable misery failed to perceive it at all. She had no notion of doing things for fun.
Learning tea ceremony, calligraphy, or Go? No joy. Post-war lessons in games or comics? The same. Studying science or history was no different from delving into romance novels or video games—it was all just work to her.
The Shinohara family estate was vast, but her allotted space was minuscule. She rose and rested alone in a room smaller than a capsule hotel, oblivious even to that as abuse. Consuming just enough calories for survival, enduring inhuman treatment for every slip-up—it all felt normal, inevitable.
So every kindness in this house struck her as wondrous. Sleeping in a real bed felt luxurious. Tasting her own cooking and finding it delicious astonished her. Most surprising: sharing a bed was far warmer, cozier, more soothing than she'd imagined.
Even if all she could see while drifting off was his broad back, gazing at that massive expanse filled her with profound happiness. Once accustomed, night ceased to be merely a bridge from one day to the next.
That's why his words that night, uttered before bed, shook her to her core more than anything else.
"Oh, right—I forgot to mention. I need to head back to the slave market—or, well, that... 'Voluntary Sexual Service Center' sometime. When works for you?"
The end was near. The beautiful, happy illusion she'd savored was crumbling away.
"Is this something my opinion matters on?"
Self-loathing engulfed her the moment she spoke. She didn't want this time to end.
"You're still awake... Anytime's fine."
Yet this infuriatingly gentle master respected her will to the very last.
"Is it hard on you? If it is, just say so. No need to force yourself."
Admitting hardship would itself mark her failure. A woman's role was to support the man and provide pleasure—nothing more. Revealing personal feelings was disqualification.
"How... cruel of you."
Even now, he preyed on her weakness, tempting her with the promise that one word could ease it all. His words coiled around her like a devil's whisper. Money? He'd give as much as needed. Quit being a slave? Fine by him. He'd trample the truth that she was dispensable, let her leech off his goodness like a parasite.
A few exchanged words, and Yukiko's resolve crumbled into hollow despair. The woman who'd trusted her own abilities shattered into fragments, leaving only a fattened pig behind.
"Please... don't abandon me. I'll do anything."
Yukiko wailed like a gluttonous pig gorging on another's pity, unashamed of her worthlessness. Humiliation, sorrow, despair enveloped her. Yet deep down, a demon smirked: this expression will earn his sympathy.
Of course he'd accept her. He'd pull her into that vast embrace, stroke her hair, comfort her. Relief washed over her even as she realized she'd sunk to the level of those she secretly despised.
Her mother had preached serving men while using them—manipulating their hearts in petty, vile ways for the family's gain, and her own. Back then, detached from both man and clan, Yukiko had accepted it with a shrug. But exploiting goodwill? That had stirred faint disgust.
Now, she was the one doing the loathsome deed.
Her master lifted her up, gazing with warm eyes. Like trash exposed to sunlight, reeking of rot, her heart decayed.
"Yukiko."
"Yes, Master."
Even now, she assumed he'd take her back. He'd never refused her before.
"Do you love me?"
His response sealed her lips. She realized she'd never once asked—or even wondered—who he truly was.
Yukiko pondered love. Had he loved her? Surely. Caring for someone useless like her this much had to be love.
But did she love him? No immediate answer came. She'd thought of him not as Hyun Sung-ha, but as "Master." Tempting him was just mission fulfillment. Clinging via pity? Merely the comfort of this life.
Guilt she'd suppressed surged forth. She'd never truly thought of him. Her service was to prove utility, nothing more. She'd never loved him sincerely.
Even a pig could squeal. Perform tricks. Offer slices of its flesh as tasty meat. But love? That was human territory.
Or perhaps even a pet pig would love its owner more than she ever could.
She'd set aside pride and guilt to stay by his side, yet words failed her now. His bachelorhood made sense at last. A man with money and no flaws—why live alone? He simply couldn't share life with someone he didn't love.
He continued comforting her, but the words no longer reached her ears.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry..."
Sorry for presuming to play human, you arrogant pig. Sorry for leeching off your love so shamelessly. Countless apologies flashed through her mind, but only one escaped her lips.
"It's okay."
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
When he forcibly lifted her kneeling form, her heart fluttered briefly—until she realized he was just laying her down to sleep.
"Rest well. Just... be happy."
Even to lie and say she loved him was beyond her fragile heart. To the end, his kindness mangled her soul.