Chapter 17: Behind the Wall

What I remember is an old villa, built at least 40 years ago.

The house I’d lived in since the day my memories began.

My parents always said it was a pretty good house,

But I didn’t know any other house.

I had no choice but to believe it was a pretty good house.

So-called ‘good houses’ had mostly been demolished by demon beasts long ago, turned into ruins or newly built concrete fortresses,

So perhaps they weren’t wrong.

What I remember are similarly old villas, damp-smelling walls,

Winding alleys,

A playground with the memorable sound of creaking swings.

What I remember are children playing in the playground,

Children looking at me,

Children pointing fingers.

Inside the gloomy house, covered with wallpaper steeped in an old, musty smell.

A tall man held a wooden plank wrapped tightly with tape,

A gaunt woman was in the corner, her head turned, doing something.

Behind a boy was a girl, even smaller than him.

The wooden plank swung,

A dull thud echoed.

The boy fell, then immediately got back up.

By the time his small body was flushed red, a glint of reason returned to the man’s eyes.

“I’m scolding you for your own good, for your own good…”

And the man muttered, swinging the plank at the boy’s calves.

The boy didn’t know what it meant, but he just accepted it.

In fact, I don’t even remember exactly what he said.

Standing at attention, unable to make a sound,

The boy’s legs turned dark red.

The gaunt woman looked away.

She covered her ears and went into her room.

The girl, who had grown a bit taller without him noticing, eventually turned her back on the boy.

The boy just stood there quietly.

‘Which day’s memory is this?’

I opened my eyes.

Sunlight seeped through the slightly drawn curtains.

The room was still dim, but the stench and filth were gone.

The clock showed 9:30.

The lights were off in the room,

I turned on the TV, and a late-morning current affairs program was playing.

Beside the TV, casually placed, was the sandwich Yujin had given me.

It was food she had given me last night.

Saying I shouldn’t skip meals even if I slept late and woke up late.

“…It’s delicious.”

My eyes welled up a little.

[Regarding the connection to the Magical Girl Association headquarters terror incident…]

[…Therefore, it is the official position of the police and the Magical Girl Association that it is highly likely the act of an overseas terrorist group attempting to recruit or follow Sanguine Obsidia.]

[…The Fallen Magical Girl Special Task Force is reportedly showing its determination to uncover the masterminds behind the terrorism while arresting Sanguine Obsidia…]

The current affairs program, which had replaced withered entertainment and humour, was, true to its name, talking about uninteresting stories.

‘Fallen Magical Girl Special Task Force, huh.’

‘It seems they couldn’t save face using the name Sanguine Obsidia Special Task Force.’

‘At best, they’ll probably just increase the deployment of magical girls or police personnel.’

[…We will make them pay the price for the death of Magical Girl Argente, the death of Grau Loom, and the deaths of many others.]

Watching the lavender-haired Association President earnestly giving a speech on the screen,
Such a complacent and convenient thought occurred to me.

[…Are you alright? Obsidia.]

‘It would be troublesome if that person came out directly, but I just need to hide well. Probably.’

But a terrorist organization?

What a ridiculous story.

What good could come from taking an interest in a murderer like Sanguine Obsidia?

Sanguine Obsidia.

A few days ago,

The day I killed Magical Girl Argente.

Unable to bear it any longer, I threw myself into Yujin’s arms.

It was selfish, and vile.

Unable to even endure the pain and guilt I had created myself,

I clung to Yujin as if dumping my emotions on her.

But she patted my back, gently stroked my hair, and hugged me.

Warmth, comfort, mercy, and motherhood.

Motherhood.

Like other affections and warmth, or normalcy, it’s something unknowable to me, who has never experienced it.

The image that comes to mind is a small cookie.

It was the last warmth I had felt, a very long time ago.

Ahn Yujin, Ahn Yujin, Ahn Yujin.

A name that doesn’t share a single letter with the name of my biological mother in my memories.

But I definitely felt warmth from her.

‘I only need her.’

If asked which one is closer to a mother, well. I don’t think I could answer confidently.

And the Fallen Magical Girl Special Task Force.

[Don’t try to kill any more magical girls. I’m begging you.]

‘I wondered why you were so quiet this morning. You seem gloomy, Spooky.’

‘I won’t kill, of course not…’

‘Last time was just an accident.’

‘An accident, yes.’

‘An accident I committed, consumed by futile fear.’

‘There’s no way the Magical Girl Association, an association that doesn’t even know who I am, could expose my identity to Yujin.’

‘But if, if that happens. If she finds out my true nature.’

‘If Yujin is disappointed in me, if she becomes angry, if she hates me, if she abandons me.’

Ah.

No.

My thoughts are getting strange again.

‘Even if I can’t be rational, I can’t lose my reason entirely.’

And that reason makes me introspect on my self,

Makes my thoughts spin endlessly and meaninglessly,

And digs up and exposes the painful places in my heart.

Dependence.

Yes, it’s dependence.

I’m depending on her.

For the past few days,

Unable to bear the storm of the dead’s last gasps and screams,

Every time I came back at night, I would knock on her door and fall into her arms.

Every day, I stayed in her embrace for minutes, for tens of minutes.

Even a brief embrace eased the fear and pain with its comfort.

It wasn’t like this before.

Walking through the passages, no matter how many voices of resentment, hatred, and pain I heard, I was fine.

If,

If Yujin feels repulsed by me.

‘Think objectively, Sanguine Obsidia.’

‘Someone you barely know, someone you thought you got a little closer to, so you even introduced her at work,’

‘You thought you had a pleasant day and went home,’

‘Then if that person suddenly barges into your house that night demanding a hug, and then comes every night for several days,’

‘Would you think they’re sane?’

Distance.

There needs to be distance.

If I don’t want to be abandoned by Yujin.

I’m afraid if I get too close, my thorns will hurt her.

And,

I’m afraid her affection will hurt the boy in my deepest core.

Because a worm crawling in a cave cannot survive under such bright sunlight.

Showers are good.

When I wet my body with warm water, my mind relaxes a little.

The me in the mirror,

My inner self that I want to turn away from,

Is hidden by thick steam, so I don’t have to face it directly, which is good.

Wiping away a bit of the condensation on the mirror, I see black hair and black eyes.

The tumor on my chest is hidden by the steam and isn’t reflected in the mirror.

My inner white hair and red eyes are not visible.

Lee Seoa.

My fake persona.

A paper-thin shell created to deceive Ahn Yujin.

‘I will become Lee Seoa, not Sanguine Obsidia.’

‘A normal life.’

‘A normal life, by Yujin’s side…’

I roughly dried myself and picked up my underwear.

A plain white bra and panties.

‘Basic living support, was it?’

Yujin had given them to me, saying she had some left over from rations or something similar.

She had forced them on me, wondering how I didn’t have any proper underwear.

I’d always made clothes with magic, so I never felt uncomfortable.

But now that I’ve received clothes from Yujin, I’ve already gotten used to them and realize the discomfort of not having them.

I’m depending on her again.

I feel dazed.

Not a stagnant, sinking daze, but a pleasant one.

I exhale cigarette smoke.

I mix the cigarette smoke with the stagnant air around the sofa where my body floats.

Cigarettes.

I need to quit.

Yujin would hate it.

Magic herbs replaced 20th-century cigarettes long ago, and even if they’re not very harmful to the body, cigarette smoke is still cigarette smoke.

She doesn’t show any dislike, but Yujin doesn’t smoke. At least, she probably doesn’t like it.

This is also a habit.

A habit that hasn’t changed at all.

Ah.

Fundamentally, nothing about me has changed.

Twenty years living as a weak person.

One year living as an evil person.

Just because I’ve experienced a seemingly normal life for a few days, not even a few weeks,

Doesn’t mean the hideous mass inside me disappears.

At best, I can only cover the disgusting pus on the surface with colourful hues.

Blood and pus continuously seep out from under the thin shell called Lee Seoa.

My essence, my habits,

Cigarettes, murder, I can’t change any of it.

Of course.

It’s only been a few days.

If one could wash their hands of sin so easily, who would suffer?

There’s that saying, ‘a resolution that lasts three days’.

The warmth of the old woman who served me gukbap, (TL: Gukbap is a Korean soup with rice.)

The guilt and pain of killing a magical girl and mutilating my own chest,

Have faded after only a few days.

All that’s left is the hazy sensation from the lingering warmth of Yujin.

Time, I need more time.

To twist even a little of my essence, I need a long time.

But time means more murder,

More attacks from magical girls.

No, the murders aren’t my fault.

The tumor in my chest is still pulsating.

It’s all because of the urges this tumor creates.

But I can no longer blame the tumor.

Because the ones who died by my hand, I killed them myself. Because I’ve come to recognize that guilt.

Because I’ve come to understand the pleasure of taking their lives.

‘If I ambush and kill the magical girls one by one, can I prevent that special task force from finding me?’

‘Can I continue this peaceful life with Ahn Yujin for longer?’

See, I’m already like this.

Saying I want to live normally, yet I’m constantly thinking about killing someone.

Recalling the ecstasy after killing.

Normalcy, what is a normal life?

Not committing sins, laughing with someone, loving, living peacefully, aging peacefully, and dying peacefully.

Without even discussing the spirit of the age, philosophy, or the world,

That kind of normalcy is completely different from my normalcy.

My normal childhood was adorned with an old village, bruised skin, and thick wooden planks,

And my normal daily life is punctuated by blood and screams.

It’s truly a pathetic story.