episode_0349

The sensation of slotting puzzle pieces together one by one.

Ever since breaking into the [Facility] and confronting the aberration wearing the Director’s face, Yuna had felt as though lost puzzle pieces were gradually falling into place.

“Honestly, even if I remember the past now, what’s the point? But… well, good things are good.”

Memories from the orphanage, long forgotten, resurfaced.

Yuna picked up the puzzle pieces floating in her mind and slotted them one by one into the tattered frame.

Click.

The sound of a puzzle piece fitting.

Beneath the overturned floorboards, a ‘basement’ came into view.

“Hmm… I remember this. It looks just like the entrance to the orphanage’s basement.”

An entrance leading down into a dark basement, discovered beneath an office floor in the [Facility].

A basement beneath a basement? Yuna really has it rough. She scraped her stiff leg with the hacksaw.

Grrk—!

Her leg had gone numb.

Because today, at ‘Goryongsan,’ she had fallen into [pits] over and over, her entire body gnawed at, and because the slowly rising memories had anchored themselves around her ankles.

(“Starting today, this is where you’ll live.”)

Yuna realized it.

If she went down there, painful memories would resurface.

Walking in willingly wouldn’t be wise—so the ‘Director’ must have gone into the ‘basement’ to avoid Yuna, who was roaming around with a hacksaw.

She must have thought Yuna wouldn’t follow.

Just as Yuna’s legs, stiff as stone, seemed to declare.

“……Guess so. It’s not like my memories are clear anyway.”

Grrk—!

She hacked at her thigh with the hacksaw in her left hand.

Muscle tore away as it severed, the mangled thigh reflexively twitching.

Yuna’s body lurched forward unsteadily.

All she wanted was a happy ending. And to finally go home and rest.

Thud! Plop!

“Ugh!”

And just like that, after slamming into the basement entrance a few times,

Yuna tumbled into the ‘basement’ like an eraser carelessly tossed into a trash can.

Skreeeak…

Clank.

The basement door closed.

…….

…….

(“Welcome to Hanbit Orphanage.”)

A remote countryside village, far from the city.

Somewhere in the mountains where no one would visit by chance.

(“What’s your name?”)

A kind-faced nun and a rundown orphanagem on the verge of collapse.

A two-story brown-brick building.

Behind the orphanage, crimson flowers bloomed vividly on the hill.

Red flowers with an eerie shape—were they called Lycoris radiata?

Perhaps they were the flowers closest to the underworld.

With petals resembling flames, legend said that bringing Lycoris radiata home or picking them would cause a fire.

Of course, Yuna didn’t believe in such legends… but the ‘Hanbit Orphanage’ before her had, like something out of a legend, been swallowed by flames and met its end. Guess you never know with people.

Then who understands aberrations?

“I’ll understand them.”

Someone’s dreamlike tale.

A tiresome nightmare.

And Yuna,

standing dumbfounded at the entrance of the orphanage surrounded by red flowers.

“……I definitely went into the basement… Why am I standing at the orphanage entrance?”

Within the dark ‘basement’ she had found in the [Facility], lay the orphanage of the past.

An ashen sky and a crimson-covered hill of Lycoris radiata.

At its center stood ‘Hanbit Orphanage.’

Yuna now stood at its entrance.

Even when she lifted her head, only the gloomy sky was visible—no trace of the ‘basement’ she had entered.

────────────────

4. ■◇◇■ Leave behind.

– Do not leave.

– Preserve the memories.

────────────────

Just as she once unraveled the stories entwined with aberrations,

Yuna began to merge with her own forgotten memories.

(“Come inside. It’s dinnertime.”)

The ‘Director’s’ voice echoed from within the building.

A warm voice calling children playing in the yard… but outside the orphanage, only Yuna remained.

The ‘Hanbit Orphanage,’ where the children had vanished.

The red Lycoris radiata surrounding it.

Like missing puzzle pieces, fragments of something important were scattered and empty.

Was this a space born from the Director’s resentment?

Or was it because Yuna’s memories were incomplete?

Or was it a hallucination?

It didn’t matter either way.

“……The air’s stifling. I really did go underground…… Huh? What? Where’s my hacksaw?”

She looked down at her empty hands.

No hacksaw, no carrier bag.

Just in case, she checked beneath her sizable chest (a blind spot), but only a single Lycoris radiata bloomed there.

“Ah, damn. Without the hacksaw, I’m just a soft little human.”

Skreeeak—.

Yuna pushed open the wooden door and stepped inside.

…….

The interior was so dark it was hard to distinguish objects.

It felt like walking through a pitch-black night sky without a single star.

At the end of the dark hallway, light seeped from the kitchen.

Peering out the window, the red Lycoris radiata shimmered like flames, blocking the view outside.

Creak… creak…

With every step, the old floorboards bent, releasing eerie noises.

Without the hacksaw, what would happen if the ‘Director’ found her now? The winter-cold air stifled her breath.

Skreeeak… creak…

Each step elicited groans from the wooden floor.

Did I gain weight? Surely not.

Thud.

She turned to glance around.

Clatter!

Ceramic shattered against the floor after colliding with her ample chest.

……Did I gain weight?

Surely not.

“Tch. Why’d they leave fragile dishes where kids could get hurt?”

Hugging her chest to move as quietly as possible, Yuna tiptoed further inside.

Of course, the floor still creaked just as loudly.

Thud. Clatter!

Her hip bumped a shelf, sending another ceramic piece crashing down.

Too dark to see around her. Especially below.

This is dangerous.

Skreeeak… skreeeak…

How far had she gone?

Creeping noisily through the darkness,

Yuna emerged into what could be called a living room…

“Mom. More meat, please.”

There, at a long table, sat alone

a younger version of ‘Yuna,’ urging the ‘Director’ for more dinner.

……What is this?

“……?”

“More meat, please. More meat, please.”

Flicker. Flicker.

A single swaying lightbulb.

It swung like a pendulum above the long table.

Flicker. Flicker.

The shifting light cast swaying shadows,

revealing the ‘girl’ seated at the head of the table each time it passed.

“Mom. More meat, please.”

Jet-black hair streaked with sunset hues, two beauty marks beneath her left eye.

A girl who looked just like her—what Yuna imagined a daughter of hers might resemble.

Skreeeak…

No trace of other children.

Every chair at the long table stood empty, and the name tags at each seat were soaked in blood.

Only one place was set—before the ‘girl’ at the head,

where a beautiful galaxy-shaped ‘name tag’ and a pristine white plate rested.

“…….”

The dark orphanage.

The missing children. Young ‘Yuna,’ sitting alone at the table, waiting for dinner.

It was confusing.

Yuna hid in the shadows, pressing a throbbing temple.

“What is this?… A memory I lost? Was I like that? Calling the ‘Director’ mom?… How many moms do I have? Am I love-starved?”

Thump—.

But then—

From behind the young Yuna, an impossibly long arm stretched out from the darkness,

placing a dripping lump of meat onto the plate.

At that moment, Yuna realized what the scene meant.

“This… is the opposite.”

The ‘dinner’ served on the table was the limbs of children.

Freshly severed, blood still dripping.

Snip. Snip.

Yuna, sitting alone at the long table.

The lump of meat served as dinner.

The scene was the complete opposite of what Yuna remembered.

“……Tasteless. Showing this to someone living just fine.”

She understood.

This was a stage set by the Director’s resentment.

Long ago, fleeing the orphanage as it burned, Yuna had killed the Director and escaped the basement.

Desperate to keep her trapped,

the Director had fabricated this inverse spectacle.

The orphanage children gathered around the table, feasting on ‘meat dishes,’

while Yuna, locked in the basement, had been the one preparing ‘dinner.’

Flipping the roles—did she think reversing the narrative would make Yuna return?

Did she think Yuna would be happy?

What would a spiteful aberration know?

Yuna clenched and unclenched her empty fists nervously.

“Tch… Dinner my ass. The meat’s so raw it’ll start moving.”

Flop!

“Oh come on, it’s actually moving?!”

The children’s limbs wriggled off the plate, and Yuna, suppressing nausea at the grotesque scene, retreated a step into the shadows.

Saw it on TV. Like live octopus squirming under soy sauce.

Kinda similar.

“…….”

And amid the chaos,

the ‘girl Yuna’ at the table merely watched the fleeing limbs with lonely eyes.

Whether at the table or locked in the basement,

the young Yuna had always been alone.

“……Haah. What even is this after the promotion exam…”

Flicker. Flicker.

A brief hesitation.

Unable to bear it, Yuna stepped out of the shadows toward the table.

Flicker.

The swaying light illuminated the long table.

Her ample chest emerged first from the darkness, followed by Yuna’s hand resting atop the ‘young Yuna’s’ head.

“Don’t eat the meat. You’ll live fine even if you’re picky.”

“……Who are you?”

“Just a passing picky eater. Fancy talk? Call me a vegetarian… or something. I’m here to chainsaw your mom.”

“The Directo—… Mom?”

The ‘young Yuna’ looked up.

Kept from leaving the orphanage, ‘Yuna’ raised with the Director’s ‘love.’

A doll-like child molded from resentment.

The ‘Yuna’ who grew up calling the Director mom looked rather well-kept.

No injuries, all limbs intact, no bandages tightly wrapped around her.

Surely, she never had to beg for one eye to be spared just to read picture books.

“……You shine like a star. Not like me.”

Yet, strangely,

this Yuna, raised with the Director’s ‘love,’

seemed less lively, less happy, than the one in her memories.

No visible wounds.

No daily visits from the Director or Sister Silverbell to draw blood or carve flesh.

Why does she seem unhappier than I was?

…Because she’s alone?

“……Little Star.”

“Hm?”

“Please kill me.”

Flicker.

And in that instant—

As the ‘Yuna’ at the table murmured something,

a hand stretched from the darkness,

clutching the lone lightbulb.

『Yuna. You’ve come back.』

Skreeeak…

Complete darkness fell.

And then, sounds.

Skreeeak… creak…

Footsteps pacing the floorboards—but with an impossibly wide stride.

The chair where the ‘young Yuna’ sat scraped, lifting a floorboard beneath the table.

Yuna clenched her fists warily in the dark.

Her squishy fists looked very threatening.

……Flicker.

And moments later,

as the light flickered back on—

“…She’s gone.”

No one remained at the long table.

Slither—slap—slap—slap—!

Only the children’s limbs, scrambling off the plate, scratching across the floor into the darkness.

“……Hey, leaving me alone? Rude.”

Snatch!

She managed to grab one crawling arm, lifting it.

Flailing like a fresh-caught fish, brimming with vitality.

“Do you know where the ‘Director’ is? Want to go home soon.”

Slap—slap—slap—slap—!

“No communication, huh.”

She dropped the thrashing limb.

Rubbing her nape, Yuna scanned the darkness.

Too dark to see anything.

“Came to fight in the potion lab and ended up like this… No choice.”

Maybe she had to play along with the aberration for now.

Grabbing the swaying lightbulb from the table,

she crumpled it into a makeshift flashlight, peering into the dark.

Better check the surroundings first.

Especially under the table. Surely, there’s a hole leading down.

Just how deep does this damned basement go?

“…….”

And then, clutching the crumpled bulb, Yuna saw it.

『…….』

『…….』

『…….』

『…….』

Inside the dark building,

clinging to the ceiling—

the children of the orphanage.

“……Hhk.”

She swallowed a scream, shoving the bulb into her mouth.

Hot.

『…….』

『…….』

The children stared down from above.

Like insects.

In this orphanage, children’s lives were as insignificant as bugs.

Especially Yuna’s.

“……Kids really are light. Seen the ‘Director,’ by any chance?”

She pretended not to care.

A calm voice—no, feigning calm, suppressing tremors—spoke to them.

Kids used to balance on doorframes for fun, right?

She decided to assume they were just really light.

『…They say the Star is trapped underground.』

『We can’t go down from the second floor.』

『Sister Silverbell will scold us.』

First-floor ceiling… second-floor floor.

Children huddled like bugs beneath.

One pointed under the table.

……Sshhk—.

And at that moment—

Among the children hiding on the ceiling from the ‘Director,’

one girl, who had been silently observing Yuna, quietly descended.

Rustle—.

No sound as she landed.

“…….”

Once, in a group photo of Hanbit Orphanage,

one girl’s face was blurred, as if coffee had been spilled on it.

Like a forgotten puzzle piece.

“…….”

Yuna faced the descended ‘girl.’

Someone she shouldn’t meet here.

A familiar face stood there.

“……Ms. Ban Harin?”

Rustle… rustle…

And the girl—Ban Harin, descended from the ceiling—

“Let’s go.”

“…Where?”

“To see the Star.”

Holding a single white lily,

she stepped toward the hidden basement beneath the table.

…….

…….

Through one sacrifice, all things attain eternity.

Was that right?

(“You’re a worthless human.”)

(“You can’t change anything. No matter how hard you try, nothing changes.”)

She remembered.

Dredging up forgotten things.

(“So, we’ll give you purpose. You just hurt, Yuna.”)

A tale about The Giving Tree.

The Director said the tree became valuable because it gave endlessly.

— ……Star, is it?

And then.

One day.

— My name is Harin.

The tree met a girl.

…….

— ……Star. Are you lonely?

— What’s with the sudden—

— If I came here every night to talk, would you be happy?

Yuna descended into the basement.

Following her childhood Ban Harin.

One hand clutching a forgotten puzzle piece,

she stepped into the dark basement.

— ……Why?

— I wanted to see you smile.

— ……What good would that do…

The basement stretched seven floors deep.

Following ‘Ban Harin,’ Yuna wound down the twisted stairs.

— They say smiles bring fortune. You should smile too.

— …I’ll try.

Basement 1. Basement 2.

Slowly sinking into deeper memories, submerged recollections.

Yet, strangely, following ‘Ban Harin’ felt comforting.

Swish—.

Basement 3. Yuna peered down the corridor.

People studying blood extracted from Yuna.

The orphanage’s vast basement resembled a research facility,

where Yuna had been the prized experiment trapped in Basement 7—the deepest, most precious place.

“…….”

Children lying on examination tables.

How many lives had vanished here?

Yuna turned away and descended.

— What’s your name?

— Harin. My surname… Hmm… Since I fell for you today, how about Ban Harin?

— That’s funny.

Rustle… rustle…

Following ‘Ban Harin’ down,

Yuna passed countless iterations of her traveling the stairs.

Sometimes carrying bandages to treat wounds.

Sometimes holding storybooks to read.

And sometimes… sometimes…

“……Back then, I looked forward to the books Ban Harin brought.”

She slotted another puzzle piece.

That was how it was.

— Yuna. I’m here.

— Hello, Ban Harin. What did you bring today?

— Definitely a new storybook for you.

Basement 7.

The ‘young tree’ trapped behind steel bars.

The ‘girl’ who visited nightly to speak through them.

The tale of the tree and the girl.

The ‘giving’ tree, showered with the girl’s unconditional love, smiled more with each passing day.

It waited for tomorrow.

What would the girl bring next?

How would she make it happy?

And it realized.

That the girl’s visits alone

were what brought it the greatest happiness.

“……Is that why? Why the ‘girl’ at the table looked so unhappy?”

Yuna recalled the ‘young Yuna’ she saw earlier.

And watched the ‘young Ban Harin’ traversing the basement.

The Giving Tree.

Affection was meant to be reciprocal to shine.

The tree had grown through the girl’s nurturing love.

Only then did the giving tree become a sparkling ‘Star.’

“…….”

Basement 6.

Yuna looked down at ‘Ban Harin’ ahead.

Shhk—.

The stiffened girl held not a white lily but a sharp kitchen knife.

The very one that once pierced the Director’s heart.

“What are you doing?”

“Freeing Yuna.”

“I’ll handle it.”

Rustle…

‘Ban Harin’ stopped, looking up.

Yuna crouched to eye level, smiling as usual.

“Blades shouldn’t reach children—that’s the ‘rule.’”

“…….”

“Pretty things should be all you hold.”

Shhk…

A brief silence.

Then, the silent girl handed over the knife.

Yuna took it with her left hand and stepped past her.

Basement 7.

The deepest part of the orphanage’s underbelly.

“Haaah…”

Kitchen knife in her left hand.

After reaching the depths, Yuna closed her eyes.

A brief hesitation.

Then, opening them, she faced the ‘steel door’ ahead.

Grind—.

With her left hand, she tightened her grip on the ‘hacksaw’ and stepped forward.

Thunk. Thunk.

Liquid pooled on Basement 7’s floor.

A strange smell. Oil?

“Now that I think, the orphanage burned down in a ‘mysterious fire.’”

She stepped across the oily puddle toward the door.

Weird, though.

The day Ban Harin killed the Director, a fire conveniently erupted.

Even this massive basement burned to ashes, erasing all records of experiments.

Who could’ve caused it?

Not Ban Harin.

How would an ‘orphanage child’ procure enough oil to raze the basement?

So, the fire was set by someone else—

A third party, unrelated to the orphanage…

(“Who’s there…?”)

(“……Star?”)

(“I’m Yuna.”)

Drip. Drip.

She advanced through Basement 7’s dark corridor.

A path slick with oil.

A grimy ‘rabbit plush’ sat in a corner.

“…….”

Drip. Drip.

Yuna stepped past it.

Skreeeak…

Then, straining against the heavy steel door,

“……There you are.”

In the deepest depths,

hacksaw in hand,

she faced the ‘Director.’