The World Tree's Freeloader
"So, to sum it all up — you snuck into the corridor where the World Tree stands, and stole the fruit lying on the ground and ate it?"
At my words, the furball shot back an immediate protest, its whole body radiating the injustice of it all.
"Stole?! I only ate what was left there to be eaten!"
"……"
Right. There was no point in holding a beast covered in fur to human standards. I should've just let it go.
But whatever fruit this thing had eaten, it clearly wasn't your ordinary fruit.
No, more than anything — you're telling me it snacked on fruit in the World Tree's corridor and then ran all the way to the temple in the imperial palace?
The World Tree Corridor lay in the Hertia Mountain Range, at the very northern edge of the empire. Ever since monsters had begun appearing around the World Tree, the temple kept the place under special guard, and people's footsteps there had long since ceased.
Sneaking into that place at all, making off with something and getting out alive, and then traveling from that distant wilderness to the palace temple — none of it was remotely easy.
Though I suppose I have no idea when exactly the fruit got eaten.
I studied the furball with eyes full of suspicion and asked again.
"Then besides the fruit, what else did you scrounge up?"
Hup. The furball flinched in alarm.
"H-how did you know?!"
"……"
The furball gave a small, guilty cough and continued.
"I didn't scrounge it up off the ground, all right? I was just so hungry I nibbled on a few leaves."
Oh, and drank some of the water flowing around the corridor, too.
"……Oh ho."
You really sampled everything on the menu, didn't you.
So the little glutton licked the whole place clean while it was in there.
The corridor around the World Tree had been known as a place of mystery since ancient times. It was only shut down now that the tree was dying — back when the World Tree brimmed with life, crowds of people made the pilgrimage there hoping to cure illness or shake off misfortune.
People were so desperate that the tree's leaves and bark weren't enough; they wanted to buy the very water of the corridor that flowed around the World Tree.
And when even the sap was selling for a fortune, well — that says it all.
At any rate, the furball said that after devouring the World Tree's fruit, it had gained the ability to understand human speech and even mimic it. Of course, it had never once met a human who could understand what it was saying.
"When I was in there, the World Tree was still bright green. The fallen fruit was fresh, and the water circling the corridor was clean too."
Which would all be withered to nothing by now.
Hold on.
It had gone in and eaten before the World Tree withered.
That means it's at least ten years old, doesn't it?
I asked the furball.
"How old are you?"
"Hmm."
The furball thought about it for quite a while. Then it tilted its head and answered with perfect innocence.
"Dunnooow?"
Hee hee. The furball flashed a dopey grin.
"……"
Going by its size alone, I'd assumed without a doubt it was a kitten. Even Renda the vet had only confirmed it was fully grown — apparently nobody actually knew this thing's age.
It's older than it looks, then.
I was mulling that over as I watched the furball when—
"Hey."
Sniff sniff. The furball pressed its nose against the back of my hand and took a long whiff.
"What are you doing?"
"You smell good."
"I bathe every day, unlike some."
"I bathe every day too! I mean — you smell like the fruit I ate."
"The fruit you ate?"
"Yeah. That fruit from the World Tree's corridor."
"……I see?"
I lifted my hand and brought it to my nose. Sniff, sniff.
…I can't smell anything.
As I was tilting my head in confusion, the furball spoke up.
"So — can I just live here and eat and sleep from now on?"
"……"
I slowly crossed my arms and looked down coolly at the furball, which was practically bouncing with excitement.
"Fine. Furball. Suppose I let you eat and sleep here — what exactly would you do for me in return?"
"Not Furball! It's Byeol-i, I told you?!"
"I don't think your name is the issue right now."
"Huh?"
The furball blinked up at me, baffled. I answered with iron conviction.
"I would never have picked up a shameless cat whose entire plan is to freeload off me for the rest of its life."
Sh-shameless cat?! The furball bristled.
"I — I am a GREAT cat!"
I gave an indifferent nod.
"Sure. So what else can this great cat do, besides yowl at the top of its lungs?"
"I can speak human! There's no other cat in the world who can talk like me!"
"Ah, right. And the only person who understands that speech is me."
"……"
"By that logic, wouldn't I be the greater one?"
"Grrr!"
The furball trembled from head to tail, seething with wounded pride.
"Then what do you WANT from me?!"
I smiled sweetly.
There's no such thing as a free lunch, oh great Furball.
"Look at the lid, right here. Bottom right. See the little writing?"
"Yes, I see it. …It's initials, isn't it?"
"That's right. We put both our initials in. Hee hee — and guess what this is, right between our initials?"
"…A heart?"
"Correct!"
Giggles, giggles.
"……"
I woke at the sound of a little girl's laughter.
That dream again.
"Agh, my head…"
I pressed a hand to my forehead and sat up in bed.
Every time I dream, it feels like my skull is about to split open.
Along with the headache, my chest felt tight and heavy. I poured a glass of water and gulped it down, but the stifling feeling in my chest refused to lift.
Then—
"Butler. Bad dream?"
"……"
I whipped my head toward the voice.
The furball.
"…Ah. Right, you were here."
"…What an insult, Butler."
It had completely slipped my mind that I'd brought a cat home from the temple.
"I've never shared a room with anyone, that's all."
"So I'm the first?"
"Yes."
Hmph. The furball gave a little sniff, as if to hum a proud little tune.
"Wait, why are you up on the bed?"
The furball wasn't on its cushion on the floor — it had climbed right up onto the bed. Curling itself into a round ball right beside my pillow, it shot me sidelong glances and answered.
"It's warmer up here. Softer, too. And you smell nice, Butler."
As it spoke, the furball swayed the tip of its tail — curled to match the rest of its round body — back and forth with lazy rhythm.
There it is. That smell again.
The furball had been insisting since yesterday that I gave off some wonderful scent.
I looked down at it with narrowed eyes.
…Is this thing actually not a cat?
What if it's the cub of some man-eating beast that attacks humans?
What if I smell like prey to it?
The thought did cross my mind, briefly.
If I see any signs of that, I'll just throw it out.
Releasing it into the mountains behind the duke's estate wouldn't be a bad option either.
"Do whatever you like."
Just try attacking me in my sleep, you little menace.
I gently scratched the star-shaped marking on the furball's forehead with my fingertip. Apparently that hit the spot, because the furball let out a contented rumble of purring and closed its eyes.
A soft laugh escaped me.
I petted it to my heart's content until the furball finally squirmed out of reach and retreated to its cushion, then climbed out of bed and opened the window. The cool air of early dawn rushed in.
…The dream is getting clearer.
The one with that little girl in it.
Thanks to it, I'd finally gotten a proper look at the girl who so famously despised her own name. Platinum-blonde hair and sapphire-blue eyes — and from the delicate harmony of her eyes, nose, and mouth, it was obvious she would grow into a stunning beauty given a few more years.
Anyone could see it was this body's childhood.
So it really was this body's memories.
And then there was the boy who sat facing the girl.
Every single time, all I could see was the back of his head.
Black hair…
Admittedly, when it came to black hair, only one person came to mind: the duke.
If only I could have seen his eyes.
If they'd happened to be violet, I could at least have been sure it was the duke.
So frustrating.
Having only a hunch, with no hard evidence, left me feeling a little stifled.
No, wait.
It wasn't as if I had no evidence at all.
The pocket watch!
This dream had been different. The same children appeared, but the setting around them and the subject of their conversation had changed completely.
And this time, the conversation was about a pocket watch.
I've seen that pocket watch before.
The duke had one he took out whenever he checked the time. It looked quite valuable, yet it seemed — how should I put it — a bit too worn to suit him, streaked all over with the marks of long years.
That's why I'd always assumed it was a keepsake from his parents.
But what if, just like in the dream, it had been a gift from that little girl?
Right. Let's verify it.
Whether the pocket watch in my dream was the duke's — or whether there was some other boy tangled up in all this.
One look inside the lid and I'll know.
Oh, and the heart between the initials, too.
A heart, of all things. How cute.
But the amusement drained out of me almost at once.
Even if the dream was showing me this body's past, it was still her past, not mine. Watching two tiny lovebirds flirt felt oddly surreal.
A romance I've never even had once, and now I'm…
I can just think of it as watching a stage play. That's all.
Except the thought that the black-haired boy might be the duke made the whole thing feel so much worse.
Why on earth am I watching the duke's love scenes…?
The queasy feeling just wouldn't go away.
Then—
"I'm hungry, Butler."
Feed me.
"……"
My gaze, which had been fixed out the window, turned back to the furball.
Right. No point obsessing over dreams.
If a memory was going to surface, it would surface on its own.
First, I need a plan to put this furball to good use.
In exchange for providing the furball with food and a place to sleep, I offered it a contract of a certain kind.