Phantom Voices
Having ended the conversation, Cheongwol returned to the room with a tangle of complicated feelings in her chest.
She had vaguely sensed that something lay between the two siblings, yet never imagined it could be this grave.
As the stories she had heard rose unbidden and drew a sigh from her lips, her steps had already carried her to the door.
If Ak Seo-a was awake, what face was she supposed to wear when she met her?
Before the worry could fully form, she opened the door and found herself locking eyes with the girl who was glancing about the room with swollen eyes.
"…Seo-a."
At the sound of her name from Cheongwol’s lips, Ak Seo-a’s face brightened, if only a little.
"Where have you been? I feared this humble one had been left behind."
Seeing her force a smile even in such a state made something twist sharply in Cheongwol’s chest.
"I told you I wouldn’t leave you alone. More importantly—are you feeling any better?"
She approached the bedside, sat carefully, and asked. Ak Seo-a gave a slow nod.
"I showed a shameful sight. I am fine now."
As the girl offered an awkward smile, Cheongwol gently laid her own hand over hers.
"I heard everything from your uncle. You don’t have to pretend you’re all right."
"…What exactly did you hear?"
"Everything. From childhood onward—the reason the two of you became like this."
"Ah…"
It had been she herself who begged them to accompany her even to the Emei Sect.
It had been she herself who first opened her mouth and confessed that her younger brother was tormenting her.
So why, now that every truth had been laid bare, did this crushing misery flood in?
Fear of how Cheongwol—who had heard the uncle’s words—might now regard her slowly tightened around her heart.
Did this person she called a friend even realize that, in a moment like this, she was still trapped in such pathetic thoughts?
If only she had never made that request, she would not have to feel this way.
"…This humble one is truly pathetic."
The words slipped out without thought; the instant regret made her lips tremble. Cheongwol reached out and wrapped her arms around the girl.
"It’s all right. None of it is your fault. It’s all the Young Clan Lord’s doing. You must have suffered so much alone. You’ve been through so much."
"Young Lady Cheongwol…"
She was about to soothe the trembling body with slow strokes along the back when unexpected words left Ak Seo-a’s mouth.
"I am grateful you would say so. But please do not think that everything is Ji-ho’s fault."
"…What?"
Cheongwol drew back slightly, her eyes asking what on earth the girl meant. Ak Seo-a only smiled faintly and clutched the front of her robes.
"I mean that this humble one also bears fault for how matters came to this. Therefore…"
Unable to hear another word, Cheongwol shook off the hand and rose abruptly to her feet.
"How is any of that your fault? Just because the Young Clan Lord claims to cherish you does not justify the abuse he pours out or the hands he lays on you. Never say that again."
She poured the words out in a fierce, angry rush, yet it was useless.
"Of course this humble one also believes that is wrong. If one resorts to force simply because words fail, one can hardly call oneself a martial artist of the orthodox path, can one?"
"Stop it."
"It is only natural that Young Lady Cheongwol should be angry. Had Ji-ho done the same to anyone else, this humble one would never speak as I do now. But this is a matter between family, so…"
"Seo-a!"
For the first time since she had come out into the Central Plains—
No, perhaps for the first time in her life—Cheongwol failed to suppress the emotion that surged up and raised her voice.
Yet only for a moment.
When she collected herself and lifted her head, she found Ak Seo-a staring back with eyes just as wide with shock as her own.
What more could be said in a situation like this?
"…I’m sorry."
Cheongwol avoided the girl who tried to approach, and fled out the door as if running for her life.
Late at night, deep in the mountains, darkness had settled thick and heavy.
A sound like the air itself being torn open rose from a silent clearing.
—Thud!
It was only a single fist driven into empty space, yet the power contained in that bursting crack needed no examination to be clear.
"Huu…"
A short while later the clouds that had veiled the moon drifted aside, and the shadow that had been flinging its arms in a frenzy of martial practice came to a halt.
Revealed beneath the moonlight was none other than Cheongwol, her face still set hard, the anger not yet spent.
But this is a matter between family, so…
She had barely begun to steady her breathing when Ak Seo-a’s words rose again; Cheongwol bit down hard on her lip.
What weight did the name of “family” carry that she would defend such a person?
Call it cherishing a sister if one liked—the truth was nothing more than obsession that had long since crossed every line.
Afraid she might come to harm out in the world, he had tried to lock her away inside his own arms?
It doesn’t make sense. If he cherished her so much, why lay hands on his own sister? Is dying what he fears, while her pain means nothing?
In her frustration she lifted her face to the moon; the heat that had filled her head seemed to cool beneath the chill night air.
And once her mind had grown cold, thoughts she must never allow herself became daggers that stabbed into her chest.
—A wretch without family, how does he think he can understand that?
—You don’t understand family striking one another? Then what was it your grandfather did to you?
—This one will never understand. He was never the same as them, not even once.
—Whom will you blame? The past cannot be helped, yet the chance that could have made it otherwise was thrown away by your own hand.
Again…!
Ever since she had mastered the Sunflower Manual, these mocking auditory hallucinations had come to her with sharp clarity from time to time.
—Thud!
As the voices circled her ears once more, Cheongwol lightly stamped a true step and scattered the energy.
"…"
According to Soga-yul, they were hallucinations born of the crushing weight that remained after the spirit had been ground down.
She had added that once Cheongwol’s realm rose, she would naturally learn to master them.
Yet on nights when the heart was this unsettled, the voices only grew clearer.
At first they had been nothing more than faint laughter; soon they became words, then full sentences.
Now they had reached the point where several spoke at once.
Though the episodes were rare and vanished if she merely settled her energy a little, there was no telling how deep these hallucinations might yet sink.
But matters that offered no immediate answer were useless to turn over in the mind.
Cheongwol shook free of the tangled thoughts and quietly lay herself down.
I will never understand in this lifetime…
That Ak Ji-ho had committed such acts under the claim of cherishing his sister.
That Ak Seo-a defended that same brother.
Even that Ma Tae-sang had merely stood by and watched the two siblings.
Could every one of those things truly be forgiven with the single word “family”?
Others might answer right or wrong with ease; Cheongwol could not.
Just as the voices that still lingered at her ear had said—she herself had never once been the same as them.
The thought brought a sudden, aching sorrow into her chest.
Of course she too had possessed a grandfather.
Yet perhaps because he had carried the burden of vengeance, he had never been ordinary.
Even now Cheongwol could not forget the look in her grandfather’s eyes as he forced her into ice-cold water and pressed her head beneath the surface.
…Ha… Grand…!
In the moment she had thrashed desperately for air, those cold eyes had been faintly visible above the water.
How many days of high fever had followed that gaze?
The merciless palm that struck down for even the smallest mistake, the frigid stare that held not a trace of affection—
In those moments she had almost believed her grandfather did not regard her as family at all.
Yet fortunately, in the year she turned ten, he had seemed to become another person entirely and had drawn her warmly into his arms.
…In the end I was no different from Seo-a.
The grandfather who, under the excuse of teaching martial arts, had committed acts close to abuse.
And yet the hard memories had faded, leaving her to long only for the kind face he had shown later.
If Seo-a had cursed that grandfather to her face, would she truly have listened in silence?
Most likely she would have defended him to the end, insisting that the shock of the clan’s annihilation had left him not in his right mind.
As the thought brushed through her mind, a bitter smile touched Cheongwol’s lips.
Cannot understand? I understand it all too well.
She lifted a hand and stretched it toward the moon.
It looked as though it might fall into her palm at any moment.
Yet even if she reached for a lifetime, she would never touch it.
And so she wanted it more; she coveted it more.
Things others enjoyed so easily—why must she alone be content merely to look?
…It cannot be helped. I set it down with my own hands.
Realizing that the hallucinations had not been wrong after all, her heart sank once more into gloom.
Soga-yul, Unhak, even Ak Seo-a—
To her they were no different from family, yet to them she would never be the same.
Unlike her, they possessed true family of their own.
Of course the heart that cherished one another would be equal, yet the depth of that feeling would not.
Cherishing alone can never reach it. The bond shared by those who share blood is something else entirely…
A profound emptiness drained the strength from her body; her eyes closed of their own accord.
As she sank deeper into the dark, a single voice suddenly brushed past her mind.
The best among the only one. In any case, I am the best.
Of all moments, in this heavy gloom, the face of the one she missed next only to her grandfather rose before her.
Looking back, it had never been a bond that kept him constantly at her side the way Soga-yul or Unhak or Ak Seo-a had done.
And yet for two full years the man had sent letters without fail.
With what heart had he done so, never once tiring?
Filling her mind with the face of Seomun Hwi, Cheongwol lifted her eyes to the moon with a gaze heavy with longing.