The Witch Bride and the Steaming Doenjang Jjigae
Doenjang jjigae with steam rising in thick clouds. Freshly cooked rice. Topped with wild boar meat. I can't remember the last time I had such a feast. Three months since the witch arrived. So many things have changed. Meat with every meal, the house spotless. All because one person moved in.
"Honey, aaah!" The witch is feeding me directly, spoon to my mouth.
Someone might ask why I haven't kicked her out, why I'm living with her. Isn't it because I'm afraid she'll eat me? No. She hasn't tried to devour me or threaten me. She's devoted, actually. And most importantly—the witch is gorgeous. Extremely gorgeous!!
A beauty like her cleans my room and goes hunting every single day. Hunting? Yeah. Wild boar. All kinds of beasts. She brings them back on that slender frame of hers. How the hell did this happen…
Three months ago. Right after the witch burst in and the doctor fled. Every single day she groaned in pain, though she claimed she was healing on her own. Watching someone suffer like that is unbearable. Witches are classified as undead-type monsters—violent, highly aggressive. Countless people have been bewitched and eaten by them. "Witch" isn't their original name. They're called that because of their enchanting beauty and overwhelming power.
This one was no exception. Unable to stand it any longer, I grabbed a wet towel and disinfectant to clean her wounds. At first she was docile, but the moment I touched the injury she bared razor-sharp claws and fangs. I nearly lost my head right there.
"J-just bear with it a little. Almost done. This will help with the pain." I held her hand and finished disinfecting. She seemed too weak to resist.
How did it come to this?
The next day I went fishing to make fish porridge for her. There's a river nearby. Will she even be able to eat porridge? Fishing was unusually good that day—three fish already. That should be enough. Simple freshwater fish porridge. Hopefully it tastes decent. My cooking skills are terrible; what if she throws it at me?
I sighed and headed to the field. Fish alone would be boring. Pulled up a carrot. And some green onions. Garlic? She said she hates garlic. Skip that. Everything's ready for the porridge.
I lit the fire and prepped the vegetables. Scaled the fish, gutted them… the guts. Would she like those? No—better not risk her gutting me instead. Tossed them without hesitation.
Once the water was boiling I added the rice first, then the vegetables and chopped fish. The porridge was done. As the official taste-tester, I took the first bite.
Slurp.
"Ugh—cough cough!" Needs more salt. Or I might get beaten. Adjusted the seasoning… another sip. "This might actually be edible."
A life-or-death porridge gamble. I helped the witch sit up. She stared at me weakly. Was that a murderous glare? I scooped up a spoonful and brought it to her lips. The savory smell made her nose twitch.
Did I pass…?
She pushed the spoon away with her hand. Hmm…? Does it taste bad? My heart ached after all that effort. It tasted fine to me. I took a big bite myself and made the most delicious face I could.
"Mmm, this porridge is incredible!" I said loudly on purpose, chewing noisily. The witch watched in silence. Maybe she was a little interested?
Seizing the moment, I scooped another huge spoonful. "Mmm… I was going to give this to you, but I might eat it all myself~!" I glanced at her nervously, checking if claws were coming out.
"Give," she said.
Huh? Did I hear wrong?
"W-what did you say?"
"Give… me… a bite too."
She swallowed hard. My plan worked. Heart pounding, I scooped a big spoonful and held it out. "It's a lot… give me less," she said weakly. Even though it hurt a little, I gave her half the spoonful. She chewed quietly.
Say it's good!
"I-it's… good."
"Really?"
"Yeah… more."
She grabbed the entire bowl and drank straight from it. Ah… right. She was a witch. I'd almost forgotten. Apex predator, second only to dragons. She emptied the bowl in seconds, then frowned. Had I done something wrong? Was this the end? Now that she was full, was she going to kill me? My hands trembled.
"More."
"Huh…?"
"No more…?"
"Porridge?"
"Yeah. No more…? I'm hungry."
"O-of course there's more! I'll bring it right away."
She really did like it. I rushed out and brought the whole pot. "Here, plenty left."
"What about you…?"
"I'm full. You can have it all!"
Being acknowledged by the witch felt strangely satisfying. I set the table and heaved the heavy pot onto it.
"Then… I'll eat all of this."
"Go ahead."
The moment I answered, she lifted the pot with one hand. She opened the lid, tried the spoon, then looked dissatisfied.
"Why? Need something?"
"Too small."
"What is?"
"The spoon…"
I was baffled. The spoon was too small? I went to the kitchen to find a replacement and came back with a ladle—only to find her already eating straight from the pot with the bowl.
"Uh… guess you don't need the ladle?"
"Yeah… this is fine."
She answered coolly, rice grains stuck all over her face as she ate. Kind of cute. Once the pot was empty she set it down. Her face looked ridiculous, but laughing might get my mouth torn off. I grabbed a handkerchief to wipe her mouth.
"What are you doing?"
In the blink of an eye her claws were at my throat.
"I-I was just going to wipe your face…"
"Fine."
She went back to her usual blank expression, enjoying the attention. She must like having her face cleaned.
A week later. The witch still hadn't taken a shower, though she didn't smell. Still, I was worried and suggested it.
"Witch, want to take a shower?"
"..."
"Your wounds have mostly healed. Shouldn't you wash up?"
"What's that?"
"A shower—lather up and wash away the dirt…"
"Are you saying I'm dirty?"
"N-no, that's not what I meant. You might be a little dirty…"
"Say that again."
Her long claws pressed lightly against my neck. It hurt… I had to talk my way out of this. You can do this, Allen!
"I-I was just worried about you, that's all."
"What happens if I don't wash?"
"You might get germs and stuff."
"Really? Does washing feel good?"
"Uh… yeah! It feels great!"
"Then I'll try it."
The promise of feeling good made her agree easily. I prepared warm water and had already built a shower stall out of wood big enough for her.
"But you'll have to take your clothes off to get in."
"Clothes?"
"Yeah. You can't wash with them on."
"This feels like a trick."
"It's not a trick. W-want to try?"
"Do you know what happens the moment you see my bare skin?"
She extended her claws and licked them with her tongue. Peeking would turn my neck into dinner.
"Why would I look? I'm not interested in that stuff."
"Then fine."
To survive, I made a shower robe out of wool. She seemed to like it, humming a little tune. So witches could sing too. I led her to the large storage shed I'd built, poured in the hot water, and said, "Tell me if it's too hot."
"Doesn't matter. Temperature means nothing."
"Still…"
"Whatever. Now get out."
"Out? Shouldn't I at least show you how to wash?"
"Stop messing around and leave."
"O-okay."
I quickly explained the basics before stepping out. Just in case she got into trouble, I decided to stand guard outside. Ah, I should've drilled a peephole in the shed. My own stupidity annoyed me. Water splashed inside. I swallowed hard. Leaning against the door, I let my imagination run wild. Ahh… My hand naturally drifted downward…