A Letter from the Depths
The door creaked open slowly, and heavy footsteps filled the quiet room. Clack. Clack. Clack… The figure paused for a moment to gaze out the window before stopping beside Woojin’s bed. It was Daeun. She was tonight’s watcher.
The women had prepared sleeping pills and made him take them for one reason only: to ensure he could rest deeply and to prevent any sudden outbursts while he slept. But after judging that the mental trauma inflicted on him was far worse than they could imagine, they had decided to take turns staying by his side every night.
During their adventures, Woojin had handled most of the night watches. But they were blessed by the Goddess. Staying awake for a single night was something they could manage easily if they simply focused.
“Tonight, I’ll be the one watching over you.”
Her usual longsword wasn’t at her hip, but her two fists and steel armor would serve in its place. As she stared endlessly at his face—
“Ughhh…”
A pained groan suddenly escaped him.
“Go away… get away from meee…”
Was even her presence unwelcome? Daeun felt strength flood into her clenched fists. The Demon King’s filthy schemes. She who had fallen for them. She who had driven him into a corner and ultimately pushed him toward death. Could she ever be forgiven?
She had clung to a fragile thread of hope after hearing that his condition was improving. Was even that not allowed?
Despair wrapped around her, and the self-destructive urges she had buried began crawling out from the depths of her heart once more—
“No… please… someone, anyone…”
He thrashed his frail arms, struggling against something invisible. She wanted to help him, but there was nothing she could do. Trapped inside his own memories, forced to live with that agony—how could someone like her possibly help him?
“Haa… haaaah—”
He was in pain. His arms trembled, rigid, as faint moans slipped from his lips. He was reliving the brink of his own death once again.
Just before despair could completely consume her, she saw the hand he reached out.
That desperate hand, begging for someone to save him.
He was the benefactor who had pulled her from the depths of terror and given her courage. If he had done that for her, then she must do the same.
She extended her hand and firmly grasped his.
“This time… this time I’m here…”
She reached out with her other hand and wrapped both of hers around his.
“You’re not alone anymore…!”
His violently shaking head and body gradually calmed. The convulsions eased, and then—
“…Huuu…”
With a trail of tears, his movements stopped completely.
She couldn’t bear it. Even in the deepest hours of night, when he should have been most at peace, even after they had drugged him into unconsciousness, he still had to suffer like this. How many nights had he already endured in such torment? How many more nights would he have to suffer through?
She slowly released his hand.
With a gloved hand, she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and gently wiped away his tears. Her right hand trembled endlessly. Her left hand held it steady. Their relationship was completely broken. His embrace felt like something she could never reach again.
It was a night of immense trial for her.
Unaware that a letter filled with his true feelings lay on the desk, she could only try to soothe the wounds in her own chest.
It’s okay… wasn’t this what I had already prepared myself for…?
But they said the more you touch a wound, the worse it becomes. Her heart was growing darker by the moment.
Hello.
To be honest, I don’t even know what I should say. That’s because I thought you all truly hated me and had grown tired of my incompetence.
Don’t worry—I’m serious—the Goddess explained everything to me. Still, I sincerely apologize for not coming to see you right away. Escaping death… wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience.
Maybe I’m only talking about dark things. I’m sorry.
Thank you for coming all the way to the forest. I’m guessing Erika was the one who prepared that delicious meal? Your skills have improved so much. Remember the charred chicken? And the Death Soup—you probably remember that too. I ate it all so gratefully. Thank you.
Lately, I’ve been feeling my body slowly getting better. Sirke, thank you. Even after sleeping for so long, my body felt clean and light. It must have been thanks to you. Because of that, I still have the strength to write this letter.
And Daeun, you worked so hard. From the very beginning until the Demon King’s end, your sacrifices were in everything. I’m sure it was you who gathered everyone and brought me to this house. If I’m wrong… please write it in your reply. Sorry!
Well, I’m probably just making assumptions based on old memories.
I also want to say a little more about the relationship between us.
Please don’t carry any guilt. You all simply had a terrible nightmare. So did I. The only thing tormenting you is the fact that I still haven’t been able to wake up from it. I’m sorry.
I can’t keep burdening you like this forever. I wonder when I’ll be able to face you all with a bright smile, thanks to your devoted care. I still don’t know.
Still, I miss your voices. Your faces, your smiles, your habits—everything about you.
Will the day come again when we sit around a campfire and happily chat? Cooking lessons with Erika, and the training we always did. Confession with Sirke, and the late-night talks with Daeun where we shared our hardships before bed.
I miss you all so much. Truly.
I’ll say this in advance: I don’t find you difficult, and I don’t hate you. Even if I act that way… please think of me as a pitiful fool who still hasn’t woken from his nightmare.
If time passes slowly and both my body and heart recover, then we will be able to meet again.
Thank you, and I’m sorry.
Han Woojin.
The three of them took their time in their respective rooms, reading the letter Erika had brought, one after another.
Erika’s eyes were red, but her face couldn’t hide the joy welling up inside her as she read it to the end. Sirke was deeply moved by his “gratitude,” clasping her hands together and gladly letting her tears flow. And Daeun, at last, felt the chains that had bound her until morning finally loosen.
His pain was something he could never speak of to anyone. If they learned the truth, the other two would surely be devastated. If the ones who should be taking care of him the most collapsed now, he would never be able to smile at them. Because he was that kind of person.
Even though it would be natural for him to resent them, he was worrying about them first. He loved them. Yes, that was certain.
Though a bitter feeling rose at the impossibility of claiming his love entirely, what did that matter? This ocean-like mercy of his must surely have come from love.
…Then, in the final moment, if she showed him a bright smile—would he finally be able to show her his heart?
Daeun slowly removed her helmet. She unwound the bandages, rolled them neatly, and placed them in a drawer. In the mirror stood a beautiful woman with long black hair. A woman with skin that wasn’t perfectly fair but was still exquisitely lovely, wearing a gentle smile.
Yet in her own eyes, she saw only one withered flower, exhausted and steeped in sorrow.
“From now on, I have to start changing.”
No matter how tightly she wrapped herself, nothing would change. The demon who had toyed with her and trampled her heart no longer existed in this world. That fact would not change.
She set aside the helmet and bandages that had been her shackles, sighed in front of the mirror, and tried smiling a little more brightly. In her reflection, the flower now showed a faint trace of life.
Hello, Woojin. This is a letter from Erika.
Did the food suit your taste? I’m not sure. You’ve passed out after eating so many times that I keep worrying you’ll eat and collapse again. But seeing how well you slept, maybe that’s not the case? Or did you pass out after eating? Just kidding.
I’m sorry about the sleeping pills. I should have at least given you some warning. Daeun told me about those dark circles. The shadows under your eyes that appear when you don’t sleep enough. I was so worried about them that I had no choice but to make you sleep by force.
While you were asleep, I didn’t do anything strange. Really. You can relax. Sirke just came by every day to massage your body, pray for you, and do whatever she could to make your body comfortable. That’s all.
Starting this evening, I’ll leave you some clothes to change into. If there’s any food you want to eat, write it on the letter paper and leave it on the desk before you sleep. I’ll prepare something that suits your taste starting tomorrow evening.
(Something had been violently scratched out. Only the words “I’m sorry” were barely legible.)
Please take care of yourself from now on. I will sincerely pray for your recovery.
Erika.
Hello, Woojin.
I’m truly happy that we can see each other again. First, should I apologize for changing your clothes and massaging your body without permission?
Because you need to rest for a long time, I’ve been massaging your body every day while you sleep to prevent your muscles from stiffening. Your body is still too weak for exercise. I can already imagine you saying, “This much is nothing if I just stretch while working out!”
But please, don’t overdo it. I know I can’t stop you.
Sometimes, please look out the window at the scenery. We won’t be heading in that direction, so you can rest easy.
While you were sleeping, I gathered various flowers and planted them. There’s still time before winter, so you’ll have plenty of time to enjoy them with your eyes.
Are you bored by any chance? I can bring you books. If you tell me what kind of books you want or the titles you’d like to read, I’ll try my best to get them.
If you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to let me know.
…Did this get a bit long? I’ll stop here.
I’ll be waiting for your reply tomorrow. Even if it doesn’t reach me, I’ll keep waiting.
Hello.
After I finish writing this, I want to tell you that I was the one watching over your sleep tonight. It was my turn.
Sirke was originally supposed to do it today, but she’s exhausted from taking care of your body alone, so I took over for her. That’s all… I just wanted to reassure you.
There’s so much I want to say. But it doesn’t feel like the right time yet. Other than that, there isn’t much I can tell you. Lately, that’s all I’ve been thinking about.
(Something had been heavily crossed out. It was impossible to read.)
That’s right—fish and chips. You really loved that. I went into town today, but unfortunately they said wheat isn’t in season yet. Looks like we’ll have to wait until autumn.
Still, there seems to be plenty of fresh meat and vegetables for now, so grilled dishes or hamburger steak might be fun. Autumn will be a carbohydrate party, right? And winter… will be the season for warm soups.
I miss the food you used to make. Erika’s cooking is excellent too, but… you know what I mean. The dishes from our world that only you could make.
Erika is trying her best to remember, but it seems we really need you. Everyone is waiting for you and cheering you on.
…I miss you.
He had received their letters. It was quite fascinating how each of their personalities came through so clearly even in writing. Before he could even wonder if he had been the same, he remembered that the letters had already gone to them and could only feel a pang of regret.
Erika had written that her cooking had improved a lot.
“Yeah, it really has improved so much…”
Recalling how her thoughts matched what he had written last night, he smiled softly.
“Good grief.”
Her following apology carried a faint trace of exhaustion. He hadn’t even asked her to apologize for the sleeping pills, yet she had written her apology and then… a sentence that had been violently scratched out. He could barely make out the four faint letters that spelled “I’m sorry.”
Perhaps they were suffering from far worse guilt than he had imagined.
When that thought occurred to him, a sudden wave of anxiety surged through him. He hurriedly moved on to the next letter.
Sirke had written that she had been nursing him. Of course she had—she had always taken on the role of healing wounds. Flowers… books… Yes, that’s fine…
…Even if it doesn’t reach me, I’ll keep waiting?
Something felt uneasy. No one in a normal state of mind would write that it was okay even if they didn’t receive a reply. Something was twisted.
Finally, he read Daeun’s letter. Hers seemed the most serious. And with her words, the puzzle finally seemed to click into place.
They had deliberately tried to erase as much of their guilt and apologies as possible. Because Woojin didn’t want them to bring up his trauma again—Sirke had probably been asked to do so, since she had always played the role of the doctor—they had forced themselves to bring up other topics or shortened their letters.
Daeun had tried her best not to mention the old world they had come from. Yet she was the one who had always eaten his food with joy and sometimes even shed a few tears. Still, he could say with certainty that she had never been the first to bring up those stories.
“My god…”
What kind of hearts had they poured into writing those letters? Had they imagined things far worse than his actual condition and whipped themselves with those thoughts?
He began to feel sorry for them.
…All while carrying shallow sympathy that didn’t even recognize its own place.