Ch.3The Cabin in the Woods (2)

“…thank you.”

As soon as I woke up and realized I had recovered enough to speak, that’s what I said.

“You’re awake.”

A response came from right beside me.

Had she stayed by my side the whole time until I woke up?

“Don’t try to get up. Your arms, legs, muscles throughout your body, and even your internal organs. There wasn’t a single part of you that wasn’t damaged.”

Just as she said, my entire body had been literally shattered.

It would be fair to say that my survival itself was miraculous.

She slowly stood up, walked to a small table in the middle of the room, picked up something from it, and returned to my side.

I turned my stiff neck slightly to look at her.

A robe covering her entire body, cloth wrapped tightly around her face, and a mask over that.

In her hands, which were part of an outfit that seemed determined not to show even a glimpse of skin, she held a small cup and a teaspoon.

“I brewed some herbs. I’ll feed you with the spoon, so don’t try to get up.”

“…Thank you so much.”

“Open your mouth.”

She slowly dipped the spoon into the cup and poured the liquid into my mouth.

As the clear reddish-brown liquid entered my mouth, a bitterness spread that made my tongue curl.

Swallowing was difficult, but I kept swallowing the liquid without any complaint.

I wasn’t shameless enough to whine about medicine being too bitter to someone who had saved me from what was essentially death.

As she poured the medicine into my mouth, she spoke slowly.

“I’m glad you’ve recovered. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if you would wake up.”

“…Thank y—”

“How many times are you going to say it? Enough with the thanks.”

“B-but…”

“Enough.”

At her firm attitude, I silently accepted the medicine from her spoon.

A few minutes later, she carefully placed the cup and teaspoon on the bedside table.

“It’s an extremely bitter herb. Couldn’t you taste it?”

“It was incredibly bitter.”

“So you endured it. Well done.”

She said this in a calm voice and then turned her head toward me.

It was difficult to be certain whether the eyes hidden behind that mask and cloth were looking at me.

As I felt uncomfortable with the bitter taste lingering in my mouth, I suddenly felt my eyes burning red.

“Ugh,”

“What’s wrong?”

“Ah, aah…”

“…”

A hot sensation began to rise from behind my eyeballs.

Soon, I felt a small pressure building.

That full pressure began to escape through my eyes, like steam being released before an explosion.

“Ugh, huu… huuk,”

“…”

Tears flowed vertically down my face from the corners of my eyes.

I couldn’t stop them even if I tried.

My arms still couldn’t be lifted, so I couldn’t wipe them away or hide my unsightly crying face.

“…uh, hic,”

“…”

“…I’m… alive… I’m, alive.”

“…Yes.”

“Thank… thank you…”

“…”

She slowly shook her head.

“Don’t say that.”

“…B-but.”

“Please. Don’t thank me,”

“Why… uh, why not?”

She looked down at me as I sniffled, remaining silent for a while.

She seemed to be waiting for me to stop crying.

As predicted, only when my tears began to subside after a few minutes did she slowly open her mouth.

“Because I have difficult news to tell you.”

*

It was in the middle of the night, without a trace of light, when my desperate plea for help reached her.

She nursed me through that night when I was little more than a corpse.

It was only natural.

After all, I was in a state where I could have died at any moment.

Of course, she needed to care for me, but since people need light to see, she told me that only when morning came did she follow the trail I had left.

And then she discovered the carriage accident site.

She did everything she possibly could.

In these chaotic times, who else would carefully treat a stranger and then, as soon as day broke, follow their tracks to examine the accident site?

Her response was sensible and logical.

Not only that, but it was also extremely dedicated.

“…You’re lying.”

“I’m truly… sorry.”

That’s why it was all the more frustrating.

Who should I blame?

“…L-Laila…”

“Don’t try to get up, your wounds are still—”

“No, it’s a lie, no… no… it can’t be.”

“…Lie down.”

She found Laila.

My little sister, who must have been dying in the cold, rainy forest night, having lost an enormous amount of blood, feeling that unbearable cold,

“No, no, ah, aah, my last… my only family member left…”

“…”

In the end, she found the scattered pieces of a small girl covered in the merciless marks of wolf teeth and claws.

“I, I promised to protect her… I told her to trust only me… I…”

Hot tears flowed from my reddened eyes.

Ah, Laila.

On that day when we fled without even being able to recover our parents’ unjustly murdered bodies, looking back at the receding mansion, I had sworn to protect my little sister at all costs,

Why not take me instead? Take me and let her live.

It felt as suffocating as if a large clump of mud was blocking my throat.

Unlike the tears that fell endlessly, not even a breath, let alone a sob, came properly from my open mouth.

My vision slowly distorted.

The ceiling became the floor, and the floor became the ceiling.

The world seemed to twist clockwise.

A confusion overtook me where I couldn’t tell if my body in between was standing, lying down, or sitting.

I had abandoned Laila.

Left her behind and survived alone.

I should have found her somehow.

Even with my dying body, I should have covered her, sharing what little body heat I had left.

I should have filled the beast’s stomach with my useless flesh and entrails.

Why didn’t I?

‘…I’m… alive… I’m, alive.’

Those words I had uttered just moments ago flashed through my mind.

I felt utterly disgusted by my own hypocrisy.

Coward, were you that afraid of dying? So afraid that you couldn’t even think of your sister after opening your eyes?

Did your sister disappear from your mind as soon as your own life was in danger?

I didn’t even remember her until she told me.

Coward, worthless, disgusting trash.

How will I face my parents when I die?

How will I face my sister who died because of me, and my brave older sister who fought the Demon King and died honorably?

No, I won’t have to face them.

Because I’ll go to hell.

I will go to hell.

I must fall into hell.

“I’ve made a grave. When you’re able to walk…”

Her voice gradually penetrated my mind, which was caught in the wheel of self-reproach.

Like a broken wind-up doll, I slowly turned my head and looked at her with empty eyes.

Despite covering her face so thoroughly that not a bit of skin showed, just from her trembling body and bowed head, I could tell she regretted telling me about Laila’s death.

She spoke in a slow, trembling voice.

“…I should have waited until you were in better condition… I thought you might be traveling together, but I didn’t realize you were family… This forest isn’t a place for families to… No, I’m sorry.”

“…”

She started to make some excuse but shook her head and simply conveyed her apology.

I just stared blankly at her face hidden behind the mask.

What sin could she possibly have committed?

On the contrary, I had received such a great favor from her that I had no idea how to repay it.

She had done everything she could.

I had no right to blame her, nor was it appropriate to do so.

Yet somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to say it was okay.

It felt as if cold, thin fingers were gripping my throat tightly.

Not only words of resentment or regret but also words of sorrow wouldn’t come out at all.

I couldn’t even tell what I could say right now.

Even if I tried to force words out, they would swirl in my mouth, melt away, and quickly disappear.

“…”

“…”

She was enduring this uncomfortable silence as if serving a penance.

I remained frozen, not knowing what words to return to her.

Should I have told her it was okay, that it wasn’t her fault?

But I wasn’t okay at all, and everything felt like my fault, so I couldn’t utter a single word.

We stared at each other in silence for a long time.

*

I woke up again.

I wasn’t sure when I had fallen asleep, but I could barely remember that I had repeated the cycle of falling asleep and waking up several times.

While awake, I would pour out all my remaining energy mixed with tears, then collapse and fall asleep, repeating this until time had somehow turned to night.

When I opened my eyes, she was sitting quietly beside me, watching.

“…You’re awake.”

“…”

“Are you uncomfort… no, um…”

She started to say something to me but stopped and pondered.

She seemed to be trying her best not to upset my devastated mind.

Perhaps it was because of her thoughtfulness.

My lips, which had been stuck together as if coated with some herb, slowly parted.

“…Thank you.”

“…”

That was all.

I had expressed gratitude when I first woke up too, but now the meaning was slightly different.

It’s okay, it’s not your fault.

Such words were meaningless.

Because it was obvious.

Of course it wasn’t her fault.

Although she couldn’t save my sister, and I survived, that was never her fault.

So what I needed to say was clearly this:

“…Thank you for saving me.”

She nodded slowly, picked up a small bowl from the bedside table, and supported the back of my head with her other hand, lifting it slightly.

“I made some thin porridge. Do you think you can swallow?”

In the bowl she held was porridge filled with finely chopped vegetables.

Until now, I hadn’t noticed, but seeing the appetizingly prepared porridge, I realized I was extremely hungry.

It was no wonder I hadn’t noticed, given that my body was filled with pain that made the burning sensation of an empty stomach seem trivial.

I slowly tried to raise my upper body.

“…Ugh,”

“No, not yet, lie down. You’ll probably barely be able to walk by tomorrow.”

“…Tomorrow…?”

I asked blankly.

The night of the accident.

Even in my fading, dim consciousness, I clearly remembered my twisted legs, broken arms, and completely damaged body.

But I’ll be able to walk by tomorrow?

I slowly moved my stiff shoulders and tried to lift my arm.

“…My goodness.”

My arm, which had definitely been bent in a direction joints shouldn’t allow, had been restored to its original state.

Of course, there were still scrapes and tears here and there, but even those were almost healed.

Unable to take my eyes off my arm, I asked in a trembling voice:

“How long… have I been lying here?”

“About… ten days.”

Ten days.

That’s a period where it’s more surprising that I didn’t starve to death than just being hungry.

But even so, could my completely broken arms and legs heal like this in just ten days?

Seeming to notice my doubt, she gently grabbed my arm and lowered it, saying:

“It’s nothing special, but I can use a few sacred miracles. That’s probably why.”

“Were you… a priestess of the Goddess Church?”

She shook her head.

“If I were, I could have healed you instantly. I can only enhance your recovery rate. The rest is thanks to herbs and your mental strength.”

“…”

She was a perceptive person.

When I closed my mouth, she seemed to quickly guess my thoughts again.

“…Your sister was beyond help by the time I found her… I’m sorry.”

“…No, please don’t apologize. I know… you did your best…”

Her fingers, gently holding my arm, trembled.

Could she be feeling some guilt even after nursing a complete stranger for nearly ten days?

I raised my other arm and slowly wrapped my hand over hers, saying:

“Kind person who saved me, what should I call you?”

“…Ah,”

When I subtly asked for her name, she was slightly startled and withdrew her hand.

She picked up the porridge bowl again, scooped up a spoonful, and supported the back of my head with her other hand.

The spoon slowly approached my mouth.

I surrendered completely and opened my lips.

Thanks to the somewhat bland seasoning, the soft vegetables and the subtle sweetness of the well-cooked rice were more distinctly felt.

That taste, along with warmth, seeped into every crevice of my palate and every bump on my tongue.

It seemed to be absorbed and disappear through every part of my mouth rather than down my throat.

As the spoon slowly left my mouth, I found myself looking at it with unconsciously disappointed eyes.

A grain of rice that hadn’t been swallowed stuck to the spoon and dropped onto my chin.

She extended one finger and carefully pushed the rice grain up to my lips.

Her finger briefly stuck to my lower lip before pulling away.

Somehow, I felt as if there was a smile on her face beneath the mask.

She carefully scooped up more porridge with the spoon and said:

“…Mill Wood.”

Mill Wood.

It was too rigid a sound to be a woman’s name.

“Is that your surname?”

“…In a way.”

“I’ve never heard it before.”

“…Yes.”

Strange.

Judging by how she covered her entire body, especially her face meticulously with cloth, she clearly wanted to hide her identity thoroughly.

Generally, people who want to hide their identity usually conceal their surname and only give their first name.

But she hid her first name and only gave what seemed to be a family name or a name derived from a place.

I stared at her.

“…What?”

“…Ah, nothing. I’m sorry.”

I hastily apologized.

Whatever her identity was, it was none of my business.

Even if she were a fugitive hiding in this forest ruin after committing heinous crimes, I couldn’t report someone who had saved my life.

If I didn’t trust her, eating the porridge she made would also be an extremely dangerous act.

Yet I obediently accepted another spoonful from her.

A slightly cooled happiness spread in my mouth.

Even if she planned to sell me to slave traders after healing me sufficiently, it wouldn’t matter.

After all, I had nowhere to go, nowhere to live, and no family left.

The porridge bowl was now empty.

Given my physical condition, the portion had been quite small from the start.

However, it was a satisfying meal because the sweetness of grain, which I hadn’t tasted for a long time, was incredibly delicious.

She slowly withdrew the hand that had been supporting the back of my head and stood up with the bowl.

“Um, excuse me…”

“…”

“…It was delicious.”

She nodded and turned around.

“…I’m glad.”

Then, as she placed the bowl in a wooden tub of water in the corner of the room, she said:

“You just ate, so you shouldn’t fall asleep right away.”

“…Yes,”

“Is it difficult to stay awake? If so, I can keep you company.”

“…Thank you.”

Mill Wood sat down again in the chair next to my bed and asked softly:

“Is there anything you’d like to ask?”

A relatively bright voice.

Somehow, I could instinctively feel that she was making an effort.

Perhaps she was deliberately using a cheerful voice to lift my spirits after losing my family.

My goodness.

Her consideration was so thoughtful that I didn’t know how to react.

Things I wanted to ask.

Honestly, there were many.

Where was this place, why was she living alone in these ruins, why had she taken such care of me,

But the thing I was most curious about was already decided.

“Um…”

“Yes.”

“Could you show me your face?”

She froze for a moment.

Her visibly stiff posture, as if struck by some petrification spell, was almost frightening.

Had I made a mistake?

It seemed she had a reason for absolutely not wanting to show her face.

A hideous scar, or perhaps swollen tumors like those of lepers?

I immediately apologized.

“I’m sorr—”

“I absolutely. Cannot show you.”

Her voice was fierce and sharp, with none of the kindness from just moments ago.

A chilling sensation enveloped my body again.

Ah, this feeling.

The sensation I had been feeling continuously since the carriage accident, one that had become familiar by now.

It was that chill I felt in the moment before death.

“Absolutely not.”

That cutting chill was clearly emanating from her voice.