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The Academy’s Sashimi Sword Master Chapter 281: Emotion (2)

Chapter 281: Emotion (2)

Ryozo‍ stared blankly, as⁠⁠ if her soul‍​ had drifted away.‌ Her pupils were⁠‌⁠ cloudy, like veiled‍ in mist.

“W-w-w-what…​​ Agh.”

She⁠‌‌ let out an‍ adorable squeal. Her⁠⁠ jaw trembled so​‌ much she bit​⁠​ her tongue. Tears​​ welled in her​⁠ eyes.

Still,‌ she didn’t look‌​ away from me,⁠‍ as if she‌⁠‌ were pinning me​​⁠ in place with​ her gaze.

“…I‍⁠‍ said I came⁠ because I wanted​ to see you.”‍

I mumbled like I was trying to​ hide in a hole. Damn, this​‍ was complete humiliation.​⁠

“Are⁠ you really Kang​ Geom-Ma?!”

Even‍‌‍ in pain, she​‌ kept pressing. She⁠ stared at me⁠‍‍ so hard it‍⁠ was intimidating.

‘I​​‌ shouldn’t laugh.’

But‌⁠ the body doesn’t⁠ lie. In the‍‌ end, I let​​‌ out a chuckle.‌

“……!”​​

Showing‌​ up out of⁠⁠ nowhere was bad‍​​ enough, but now⁠ laughing—Ryozo looked at⁠‌ me like I’d​ lost my mind.‌‍⁠

She‍ stood up abruptly​‌ and came over⁠‌‍ to me from​‍⁠ across the table.​‌

She‍⁠‍ spun the chair⁠‌‌ sharply so she‍‍​ was right in⁠‌‌ front of me.‍‌ Her movements were⁠​​ pretty rough.

She‍‍ pried open my‍ eyes with her⁠ fingers, gave me​​ a couple of⁠ slaps on the‍ cheeks, even forced⁠ my mouth open​ to check my‍⁠ tongue.

Then‌‍​ she stepped back‌‍ and tilted her​‍ head.

“Doesn’t​ seem like there’s⁠⁠‍ anything wrong…”

Suddenly,​ she leaned in.‌‌​

Tap!​‌

Our‍ foreheads touched gently.⁠ Our faces were‌‌⁠ so close her​⁠ breath grazed my​‍ skin.

The​‍⁠ distance between us⁠‍ was no thicker‌‍‍ than a sheet⁠​ of paper.

While​ I blinked dumbly,​​ Ryozo closed her‍‍ eyes tightly and‍‍ furrowed her brow,⁠‍‌ as if focusing​ on something.

She‌⁠ slowly opened her​​​ eyes again, without​‌ pulling her forehead⁠⁠‍ away.

“You​‌ don’t have a fever… Or maybe‍ stress finally drove⁠​‌ you insane?”

Ryozo​‌ murmured. She spoke⁠ normally now, though‍ her swollen tongue‌‍‍ still peeked between‍​⁠ her teeth.

She⁠‌ looked straight into⁠⁠‍ my eyes. With‌​ our foreheads touching,​‍‌ looking away was‍ nearly impossible.

““……””⁠⁠‌

A deathly silence fell‌ over the kitchen.​​ Even the kimchi‌​ jjigae seemed to‌ have given up‍⁠ bubbling.

We‌ stared at each‍ other without a word. Our breaths‍ met halfway across⁠ our cheeks.

“…You’re‌⁠ not joking?”

Ryozo​‍ examined me deeply.‍​‍ I gave a slight nod. With⁠ our foreheads touching,‍ even our eyebrows‍ brushed together.

“No.”⁠

“Why…⁠ now? What got‌‌⁠ into you?”

“I’ve‌⁠‍ been thinking these‍​⁠ past few days.⁠ Who’s the most⁠ important person to​⁠ me? And only​⁠‍ one name came‍‌⁠ to mind. Of⁠‌ course, the exploration⁠⁠​ club and everyone⁠ else matter, but…”‌‌

I hesitated a bit.‍⁠ I was a little better than​⁠⁠ before, but still​⁠ embarrassed.

But—​⁠

“…The​‍ one who’s thought⁠‌ of me the‌‌‍ most has been⁠‍ you, Ryozo.”

“Is‍‌ that a confession?”​​‌

“Something‍⁠‌ like that.”

“If‌‍ it’s a confession,‌ say it properly.⁠⁠‍ What’s with the‌ ‘something like that’?”​

“I’ve​ never said anything‌‌​ like this to‍​‍ anyone before, I don’t even know⁠ if I’m doing⁠‍ it right.”

I scratched my cheek.‌

“And‌‌ to think I say this just‌​⁠ a week before⁠​​ the war. How⁠​ pathetic am I.”‍‍

“Yeah,‍‍‍ you’re pathetic.”

Ryozo‌ pulled her forehead‍‌ away. She exhaled‍​​ deeply, like something‌‌ hurt.

“I‍‌ gave you so⁠⁠⁠ many hints… And‍‍ you choose now‍‍ to say this,‌ right before heading⁠‍ to war. You⁠ know that’s super‍⁠‌ cowardly, right?”

Right⁠‌ on the mark.‌​ That’s why I stayed silent, listening⁠⁠ to her scolding.⁠‍

Even⁠ though her tone​⁠ was harsh, I couldn’t help smiling‍‍‌ for some reason.​

“What​​⁠ are you smiling‌‍ at? Don’t smile,​ you idiot! If⁠⁠‌ a great hero‍​ like you puts‌⁠ on that face‌​ before leaving, it‌​ makes me look⁠ like the bad‍ guy!”

“So​‍ should I take​‌ it back…?”

Ryozo‍⁠​ narrowed her eyes⁠⁠ and glared at​‍‍ me. It was‍‍ just a joke‌‌ to lighten the​‌⁠ mood, but I’d‌ clearly thrown gasoline‍ on the fire.​ Tough crowd.

“You’re⁠‌ terrible.”

“I​‌​ know.”

“Very,‌‌ very terrible.”

“I‌‌⁠ admit it.”

“There‌​‍ can’t be a man more terrible​‌⁠ than you.”

“Depends‍ how you look‌‍⁠ at it.”

“In​‌‍ some ways, you’re‍‍ worse than that​ Kojima guy.”

“Now,⁠ that’s—”

“No,​‌​ you’re worse. At‌ least he valued‍⁠ his own life.⁠ But you, you​ always throw yourself⁠⁠ into danger without​​ a second thought.‍⁠ And you’re so⁠ fast I don’t⁠‌⁠ even get a chance to stop‍ you. At that⁠ rate, will you‍​‍ even be able⁠⁠ to fulfill your‍​ duties as a man later on?”⁠

“W-what…?”​​⁠

Ryozo​ didn’t wait for‍‍ an answer. She‌‍⁠ stepped forward again.⁠​ Came closer. Took‍ my cheeks in‍ her hands like‌⁠​ she was going​‌ to pinch them.‍

“…This‌‍‌ will be the⁠‌ last time.”

She​‍⁠ spoke with effort.‍‍‍

“Just​ this once, I’ll‍‌⁠ let you go.​​ But there won’t​​ be a next‌ time. Next time,‌‍⁠ I’ll be the⁠‌ one grabbing a bow and charging‍‍⁠ into the battlefield.‌​ Got it?”

I stared at her,‌⁠ dumbfounded. She squeezed⁠ my cheeks, demanding‌⁠​ an answer.

“Did​ you hear me⁠​ or not?”

I nodded while holding⁠​​ my squished cheeks.‍⁠⁠ Ryozo frowned, annoyed⁠‍ by my blank‌ reaction.

“You⁠ still don’t get‌⁠ it. Since you’re​⁠​ here, leave your‌ seal.”

“Seal…?”‌‌

My‌⁠‌ pupils shrank. Her⁠‌ sky-blue eyes filled‌‍‍ my vision. Her​‌‌ lips gently touched​ mine.

Creaaak!‌‌‌

The​ chair wobbled like‍​ it was about‍​ to fall, but⁠ held. Ding ding⁠⁠‌ ding, bells rang⁠ in my head.​⁠ I felt my⁠‌ soul leave my​‌​ body.

“You’ve⁠​​ left your seal‍​ now, so don’t‌​​ say anything else.”‍‌

Ryozo​‍​ gave me a gentle push on‌ the cheek. With​​ a palm’s distance⁠⁠ between us, I could finally see‍⁠​ her clearly.

She​​‍ was about to​​ explode like a volcano.

Even‌⁠⁠ so, she tried‍ to act calm.​ There was one⁠ thing she wanted‍‌⁠ to tell Kang⁠ Geom-Ma before he⁠⁠​ left to save⁠⁠‍ the world.

“Don’t‍‌ die.”

Ryozo⁠‍‌ said it firmly.‌‍

“Cut‍ them all down,‍⁠‍ like you always⁠​ have.”

***⁠​​

Apartment‍ Hallway

Cynthia⁠ leaned her elbow⁠‌ on the railing⁠‍‌ and rested her​‌⁠ chin on the‍ back of her⁠​ folded hand. In​‍ that posture, she‌​ spent her time⁠⁠⁠ staring aimlessly at‍⁠ the high tide‌⁠ of the evening.⁠

The‍ sky was covered⁠⁠⁠ with heavy gray‌⁠ clouds. In the​​ distance, the sea‌⁠ off the coast​‌ of Busan crashed​‍ violently against the‌ shore—a full-blown threat.‌​

“Looks⁠ like it’s going⁠‍ to rain, even‍ though it’s winter.⁠‌​ Since it can’t⁠ snow…”

Cynthia‍‌‌ muttered, exhaling a visible puff of‍ breath. Her expression‌‌ was indifferent when,‍‍ behind her, the‍ sound of a door creaking open‍‍‌ caught her attention.‌

She⁠‌‌ turned.

Kang​ Geom-Ma was stepping​‍‍ out carefully, scratching⁠⁠⁠ his neck awkwardly.​​⁠

“I​‌‌ kept you waiting‍​​ outside… I’m really​ sorry.”

“Apologizing?⁠‌⁠ Not at all.‍ With this war⁠‍ state, I’ve been⁠ wanting some fresh​​‌ air anyway. Your​​ visit gave me‍ the perfect excuse.​ Don’t worry.”

Cynthia‍⁠‍ offered a slight‌​​ smile and wiped​‍​ Kang Geom-Ma’s lips‌‌ with her thumb.‍

It‌ came away stained⁠‍‌ with red broth.‍‍​

He‍‌ looked visibly flustered,‌ and a playful⁠⁠ expression crossed Cynthia’s​⁠ face.

“How⁠ was the homemade‍⁠‌ kimchi jjigae? I heard Kang Seo-Bang‍​​ is a good​‌ cook, right?”

“Ah,⁠‌ that… Well.”

Kang​‌ Seo-Bang. He could‍ no longer openly‌ reject the nickname.‌‍​ Perhaps for that​ reason, Kang Geom-Ma​ clasped his hands‍‍ politely. Time to‌⁠ show some service⁠‍ spirit.

“It‍⁠‍ had just the‌ right sweetness, not⁠​ too spicy, and‍‌ it was delicious.⁠ Especially the kimchi—it‌ had an excellent⁠⁠‌ flavor.”

“Looks‍ like Kang Seo-Bang⁠⁠ likes spicy food.​ I added a ton of chili‌⁠ and he didn’t​​‌ even flinch. Oh,‍ and the kimchi’s⁠ from the supermarket.”⁠‌

“Ah…”‍‍‍

Cynthia‌⁠ gave a mysterious‌‍ smile and patted‍⁠⁠ his tense shoulders.⁠‌

“Thank‍‌‍ you for coming‍ to see her,⁠⁠ Kang Seo-Bang. Before​‌⁠ you showed up,‌‍⁠ that girl looked⁠ like she’d been​ chewing rocks. But‍ the moment she⁠​ saw you, her‍ face lit up‌‌ like a spring⁠ flower. She never⁠ makes that face⁠‍⁠ for me.”

She​​‌ sighed in mock‌​ disappointment. Kang Geom-Ma‍‌ didn’t know how⁠‌⁠ to respond. Cynthia​⁠ was finding it⁠ rather amusing to‍‍ tease her son-in-law.‌ She hoped that​​ boy would grow‍​‌ quickly and become​⁠ part of the‌ family. Then she⁠ could joke around​⁠ with him as​ much as she​‍​ liked.

A clumsy son-in-law awakened‌ the mother-in-law’s sadistic‌ instincts.

“You⁠⁠ know something?”

Cynthia‌⁠‍ stepped slightly away.​‌

“When‌‍ I first met⁠‍ Kang Seo-Bang, I thought he was​ cold as stone.​⁠⁠ But now, you‍​ express your emotions‌‌ much more. Look​ at those eyes,‌ full of longing.”⁠​

She‍⁠ quickly turned her⁠ back. Her silhouette​ radiated solitude.

“Maybe​​ being swayed by‌​​ emotion isn’t ideal⁠​ for a hero,‌ but as a person, maybe it​ means you’ve matured.”‍

It‌ was a reflection⁠ meant for herself.‍⁠‌ She recalled the​ man she had‍‍ once loved deeply,‌​‌ now a stranger.‌‍​ After so many‍​ years, memories of​​​ Kojima were as‌‌ blurred and murky⁠​ as those clouds‌⁠​ in the sky.‌‍⁠

“…Geom-Ma,‍ not just you—even‍​⁠ that Kojima has​‌‍ changed.”

A bitter taste filled‍ her mouth. What⁠⁠​ had gotten into⁠ Kojima that he‌ decided to join‍‍ the war? The​‌ world had clearly​⁠ gone mad. And‍ yet, a burning‍ curiosity stirred inside​​​ her. Why had‌⁠​ he changed? He,‌ who hadn’t even⁠⁠ looked back at‌⁠ her when he​ left. Her chest‍ felt tight, as‌ if something weighed‍‌ it down.

‘After‌‍‍ Alice died… he‌ hated war. Why⁠ now?’

‘Why​ didn’t he just⁠‍ stay a retired‍⁠ old man, like‌‌ always?’

‘Don’t‍ tell me… in‌‍ this war…’

Dark​ thoughts swirled. She​‍⁠ wanted to ask⁠ Kang Geom-Ma directly,⁠‌‍ but couldn’t bring​​ herself to. She⁠‌ considered hinting at⁠‌​ it subtly, but‍ even that felt‍​​ wrong. How could‌‍ she act like‌ that in front‍​‍ of a hero⁠ carrying the fate‍ of humanity?

Tap,‌‌​ tap.

As‍ if mirroring her⁠‌‌ mood, the clouds​ began to squeeze⁠​ out droplets of⁠⁠​ rain. Winter drizzle.⁠ The fine rain‌ soon turned into‍‍ a heavy curtain⁠⁠ beating down on⁠ the ground, the‍ sea, and Cynthia’s‌​ head without mercy.​

Shhhhhh.⁠​⁠

The‌‍ old trees, preparing‍‍ to hibernate, trembled‍‍ gently. Dry leaves​⁠ rustled with a grim sound. Only‌ nature could tell⁠​‍ if that trembling‌​ was from rain​‍ or an ominous‍​ foreboding.

Step.‌

Kang​‍​ Geom-Ma stepped beside‌‌ Cynthia. Like her,‌⁠ he leaned his⁠ elbows on the‌‌​ hallway railing. The‌‍​ indifferent sky pelted​ them with its‍⁠ cold winter rain.‍‍‌

“There‌ was an emergency​ meeting recently. Kojima​ showed up, which⁠ was very unexpected.‌​‌ So after the‍ meeting, I asked‍‌⁠ him directly. I was curious why‌⁠ he chose to‍ join the war.”‍​⁠

He​‍⁠ ran a hand⁠‌ through his hair.‌⁠​ His rain-soaked face‍‌ had a strangely‌ unburdened look.

“He​​​ said he didn’t​ want to be‌ someone his loved‍‌ ones would be‍ ashamed of. I don’t know exactly‌ what he meant⁠‍ by that. Maybe​‍ it was just​ an evasive answer,​ considering our relationship⁠ isn’t great. But‍ this is what⁠⁠ matters.”

Kang​‌ Geom-Ma turned his‌ head toward her.‌⁠

“He​​‍ said ‘loved ones,’‍‌‌ plural. Not just‍‍ one person. I’m‍​ sure you’re one‌​‌ of them.”

Soaked⁠⁠⁠ like a drenched‍‌ rat, he smiled‍​ warmly. Cynthia blinked.‍​ Raindrops clung to‍⁠‍ her lashes like⁠⁠‌ dew. Her previously‌ somber face brightened⁠ as if blossoming.‌‍

“My‍​ daughter really chose‌​ well.”

Kang‍‌ Geom-Ma gave a sheepish half-smile.

“It’s⁠‌ about time, isn’t⁠‌ it? You should⁠‍⁠ leave before you​ miss the last⁠⁠ bus to the‍⁠⁠ terminal…”

Cynthia‍‌⁠ trailed off mid-sentence.⁠⁠ Something didn’t add‌ up.

“Kang​‌‌ Seo-Bang, how did‍⁠ you even get​ to Busan? We’re‍​ under a wartime​ state—buses and portals⁠‌ are suspended. And​‍ how do you‌‌‌ plan to return?”​⁠​

Kang‌ Geom-Ma hesitated to‌‌ answer. He debated‌ whether to tell​‌ the truth. In​‌‌ the end, he‍‍⁠ sighed decisively. His‌‍​ breath misted in‍ the air.

“I’ll​⁠​ explain what you​‍​ saw today when⁠‌ we meet again.”⁠‍‍

Before​ Cynthia could say​​⁠ anything, Kang Geom-Ma⁠​ snapped his fingers.⁠‌ A flash of‍​ light exploded in‍⁠⁠ her vision. Instinctively,⁠⁠ she crossed her‌ arms to shield⁠​ her eyes.

The‌⁠⁠ last thing she‍⁠ saw was Kang‍ Geom-Ma’s silhouette dissolving‌ in an instant.​‍‌ A thunderous roar⁠‍‍ followed.

She‍‌⁠ opened her eyes‍⁠ slowly. The brightness​‌ had left her‍​​ vision sore. Even‌ so, it gradually‍‍ returned.

Once‍‌​ she could see‍⁠⁠ clearly, Cynthia let‍‌‍ down her guard.⁠ A moment later,⁠ her pupils shrank,‍‌ then relaxed in​‍‌ awe.

The​ hallway was scorched,​ with melted spots⁠‌ here and there,⁠​⁠ and tiny sparks⁠​ flickered on the​ floor before vanishing.​‌

The​‌ light was gone,​​ but there was‌ no trace of‍⁠ Kang Geom-Ma.

Rumble.‌​

Cynthia‍ steadied her wobbling​ body. She looked‌​ up at the‍ sky. As if‌‍ nothing had happened,​‌‌ the rain had​ stopped.

The‌‌⁠ remnants of the⁠ winter rain left⁠ a dark blue‍‍​ sky beyond the​‍⁠ black clouds.

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