3. The Mask
Yes. She was a woman unlucky in many ways.
Yi-hwan glanced down at the woman lying beneath the blanket, her eyes covered. Since childhood, she had covered her eyes while sleeping because spirits would suddenly thrust their heads before her. By her bedside sat the teacup she had handed him today. The woman was unfortunate enough to have things like him clinging to her—and naive to boot. Thinking that a sleeping herb could put Yi-hwan under was proof of that. But he found even that side of Hyeon utterly endearing, and a smile kept threatening to escape.
Behind Yi-hwan, black spirits writhed and moved slowly. They were a darkness of a different depth from the ones that occasionally loitered around Hyeon. Even as they surged toward him with a gurgling hunger, he was far from startled—he was perfectly composed.
"Snuffing out a life in one go, as before, won't do. Let him die slowly, uglily... Yes. That suits my elder brother well."
Yi-hwan murmured as if giving orders to something, yet there was no one around him. Only the black masses behind him squirmed and let out grotesque sounds.
"Only then will Father feel a little more fear."
His low laugh was eerie. Soon, the sticky black masses scattered and vanished somewhere. He reached out and brushed the back of Hyeon's hand. The sensation of applying medicine with these very fingertips earlier that day came back to him—soft, and thrilling.
He had struggled to resist the urge to put her fingers in his mouth and roll them around. Yi-hwan pressed Hyeon's thumb slowly, firmly. Her small hands were calloused from diligently gathering herbs every day, yet even those angular fingertips felt endearing.
Thinking of how this woman had struggled with those tiny hands to feed and shelter him sent a shudder of heat through him. She was still like a cat with its fur bristling, wary... But given how long she had been left in solitude, the time she spent with him would flow quickly. Yi-hwan knew very well what lonely people clung to. And he was confident.
---
It was a vicious fever. Her entire body burned so intensely that her vision grew hazy. Had she caught a chill from the cold wind during last night's walk with Yi-hwan? She recalled the brief brush of his hand against hers. The place where their skin had touched—she traced it with her other hand. And the face of the man who had smiled languidly at her.
No. Don't think about it. Think of something else. Hyeon exhaled raggedly, straining not to think of anything at all.
"Hngh..."
Something cold touched her face. Hyeon blinked repeatedly, trying to focus her blurry vision. The blindfold she had tied before sleeping seemed to have been removed by someone.
"We need to bring down the fever. Bear with it a little."
Ah. Yi-hwan. A voice she had grown familiar with, heard every day now. His voice was somewhat stiff, but the hands that touched her were gentle. Hyeon unconsciously relaxed, letting the tension drain from her body. He wiped her face with a soft, cool cloth. Then her nape, and lower still—he loosened her garment...
"Ah, there..."
"It will be done soon."
With unadorned hands, Yi-hwan undressed her and wiped her fevered skin. Hyeon could not move her leaden body even an inch and had no choice but to receive his touch.
"Nngh..."
As the cool cloth moved lower and wiped her groin, a whimper escaped. She heard a breathy laugh from below. He rubbed that spot over and over. The actual wiping ended quickly, and Yi-hwan dressed her in clean clothes. It had been so long since someone had tended to her with such care.
No—was it only that? Since he had come to this house, nothing but unfamiliar things had happened. Yi-hwan stepped out for a moment, then returned and sat beside her, bringing something to her lips.
"If you swallow nicely, I will give you a reward."
He teased. Hyeon inwardly chuckled, but lacked the strength to even curl the corners of her mouth. Being treated like a child—how long had it been since that, too?
When Hyeon could not open her mouth, Yi-hwan raised her upper body and leaned her against him. Then he pressed her soft, warm cheeks to part her lips. But the medicine he fed her would not go down—it dribbled down the side. He watched the black liquid trail down her neck, then set down the spoon. He lifted the bowl to his own lips.
"Mmph."
Yi-hwan pressed his lips to Hyeon's and transferred the medicine mouth-to-mouth. Hyeon blinked, registering the situation. He paused, lips still pressed, as if watching for her reaction. She knew, too. Yi-hwan had been making sure she ate every meal, hauling firewood, taking care of her. Just as the people she had loved had once done for her.
It was a clear sign of affection.
"Slurp". Hyeon made a sound as she sucked and rubbed against his lips. She did not avert her gaze from his. As if that were the signal, Yi-hwan's lips pressed deeper. His tongue swept warmly through her mouth, softly teasing the inside. But it was only for a moment.
"For now... you must take your medicine."
He said so, then took another mouthful of medicine. He transferred it to her again, as if the brief passion had never happened. Had he not liked it? Hyeon worried about this even as she floundered in her daze.
But why was she even thinking about this? In the midst of her confusion, she licked his soft lips with her tongue, not knowing what she was doing. Yi-hwan's shoulder twitched. But the moment he finished feeding her the medicine, he tried to pull away. Hyeon caught the movement swiftly.
He's drifting farther away. Hyeon whined like a young animal, spilling out the loneliness she had not even known she carried.
Perhaps it was the illness that made her hidden true feelings surge forth.
She wanted to hold him beside her. She did not know how long it had been since she had kept someone close without fearing for their life or death. Hyeon had been lonely for far too long. Fortunately, her hand reached out as she willed. She nuzzled and burrowed into that large hand.
She could not see the man's expression—she was not in her right mind. Yi-hwan pulled her body close and held her tight. And patted her. Strangely, that tenderness felt familiar. They slept in the same room, yet the days they had actually touched could be counted on one hand. It was odd.
Hyeon dozed off like that and fell asleep. Yi-hwan gazed down at her, then lowered his lips to her nape. A long suck left a mark on her neck like a crimson brand.
---
The reason the woman was suffering from fever was the Gamyeonsu—the Mask Mushroom. The reddish-brown mushroom she had gathered from the mountain yesterday for food. It ordinarily mimicked the shape of an ordinary mushroom, but in truth it was a monster in the form of a human mask. It was not particularly powerful, so simply picking it and throwing it away was enough to be rid of it. Yi-hwan found the mushroom in the kitchen—it had swelled into a red mask shape—and crushed it in his hand. A human scream died within his palm, but he paid it no mind.
"You carry all sorts of strange things with you."
Yi-hwan sighed and walked out into the yard. The shabby yard was so small that it took only two or three steps to cross it. He brushed off the remnants of the Gamyeonsu as if discarding them. The black masses around him squirmed and crawled over to devour the remains.
"Still, it's fortunate."
A Gamyeonsu was a weak monster that could be easily removed. It only transmitted a sickness that even an ordinary human would shake off after a few days—not too severe. The truly dangerous ones were the monsters that bore many similarities to human form.
Spirits attached to living things would remember their former lives and try to resemble the humans they once were. The stronger their energy, the more faithfully they reproduced the human form. This was why monsters with human heads on serpent or bird bodies occasionally caught the eyes of shamans.
Of course, such monsters required incredibly powerful evil spirits to attach to them—perhaps appearing once in a thousand years, if at all. Usually, their demonic power was insufficient to mimic humans, so they merely imitated human objects.
Hyeon probably knew not a whit of this principle. Which suited Yi-hwan just fine.
He lightly dusted off his hands and walked back to the room where Hyeon slept. She breathed softly with an innocent face, as if she had never clung to a man begging for affection.
No demon is as seductive as this woman. He approached her and pulled the blanket back up over her thighs.
---
Her body was tepid.
Hyeon opened her eyes groggily and felt that her head was lighter. She raised herself and urgently scanned the room—a gesture filled with anxiety. She vaguely remembered the things she had done while sick—how she had clung to him.
Sucking and biting his lips as he fed her medicine. Whining for him not to leave, latching onto him. She had even wrapped her legs around him, afraid he would run away. Yi-hwan had willingly taken care of her. He had no choice, since she had clung to him desperately. She wanted to tear her hair out. It was a clear mistake.
"You are awake."
Yi-hwan entered, wiping his sweaty brow. His habit of ducking his head through the doorway—far smaller than his height—had grown quite familiar. Yes, familiar. Hyeon counted the days they had lived together. Over thirty days had passed without her noticing.
Too long.
"...I committed a breach of propriety. I apologize."
He heard her words of apology, clearly intended to create distance, fell silent briefly, then smiled—a well-crafted smile.
"I am hurt."
"..."
No words followed. Yi-hwan approached and took her by the arm.
"I have drawn bathwater. Please go and wash."
"I can manage alone."
But her hasty refusal was in vain—she could barely keep her balance on her own. He supported her without adding a word, so as not to embarrass her. It was only when she reached the bathhouse that she could finally be alone. Yi-hwan told her to call him when she was finished. She looked at the large, worn wooden tub filled with sloshing water and dipped her hand in. It was warm.
"This..."
Before her body could relax in the warm water, dismay washed over her. Love bites and teeth marks were visible beside her areolae. They were on the inside of her thighs as well, and on closer inspection, several more on her wrists. Marks left as clearly as a beast marking its territory. Her heart sank coldly. It was all too obvious who had left them.
She hurriedly washed and tried to leave, but her strength gave out and she collapsed. A loud clatter echoed. The thought of herself, naked and sprawled on the bathhouse floor, filled her with shame—but her body ached fiercely from the hard stone. As she floundered, the door swung open.
"I told you to call me when you were finished..."
Yi-hwan approached, looking flustered. Even in this state, Hyeon curled into a ball, ashamed of her nakedness. At her clumsy attempt, he let out a scoffing laugh.
"You have already shown me everything, have you not?"
"I don't... I don't want to."
She acted defensively. He said nothing. Was he angry? Hyeon cracked her eyes open like threads and looked up. Yi-hwan's face was expressionless. Somehow, that frightened her a little.
Only hot breaths passed between them. The man lifted her and carried her back to the room. Hyeon wrapped herself in the fluffy blanket. He had not given her clothes, so she had no other choice. Not that she could bring herself to ask a man with that face for clothes.
"...Do you regret it now?"
Yi-hwan, watching her from beside the bed, spoke with a placid face. It appeared calm, which made his mood even harder to read.
"Why... why did you do that? On my body..."
"You begged me urgently, did you not? ...You did, miss."
For a moment, Hyeon felt her head spin. Thinking of what she had done the night before, it was entirely possible. She had been delirious with fever. She bit her lip gently.
"I am sorry. Truly."
"For what? Is it a sin for a man and woman to allow each other and share passion?"
Yi-hwan looked genuinely puzzled. Allow... passion... Several words floated through Hyeon's mind. She opened her mouth, then closed it, over and over. Her thoughts were consumed with how to smooth things over. She just wanted to escape this room.
"It was simply a mistake. I should apologize to you, Yi-hwan."
Hyeon apologized for her error plainly. She did not want to drag this relationship out. For her own sake, more than anyone's. Yi-hwan let out an ah, then slowly raised his thick lashes.
"I thought you were no different from me, miss."
"..."
"It seems you do not truly care for me."
Yi-hwan was gentle. But it was hard to take his attitude at face value. The atmosphere cooled.
"If not that... Did you mistake me for someone else while feverish?"
Someone else? Hyeon realized Yi-hwan was misunderstanding something. He must be referring to the dead lover she had once spoken of.
Hyeon clenched her hands. None of what she had done while ill had been insincere.
She held affection for Yi-hwan. If asked to be honest, she would say—she liked him. He was a kind man who had stepped into a lonely woman's life. Someone who cared for her attentively and shared affection with her.
But could people live only by what they wanted? A woman who had lost everyone precious to her over a lifetime could not easily accept someone new.
If she lost this man too... If this man abandoned her someday—she felt she would no longer be able to bear it. Hyeon wanted to be free of the spirits, then travel lightly and live alone. She had had enough of losing herself to love.
In the end, Hyeon chose to end things even if it meant lying to Yi-hwan.
"...Yes. You are right."
"..."
Hyeon turned her face away and avoided his gaze. So she did not see what expression he wore. Perhaps if she had noticed then—if she had seen his face for even a moment—things might have been different. But she was the sort of woman who had misfortune piled upon her.
"So, as we first agreed—when your wounds heal, tell me how to repel the evil spirits, and then leave."
"As you wish."
For your choice is what matters most. Hyeon's shoulder flinched. He answered without a moment's hesitation. Hyeon felt herself shameless, yet a lump rose in her throat. Of course, she knew in her heart.
He was objectively beautiful and a young man with a bright future. Compared to him, she was only pointed at as ill-omened—he would lose nothing by letting her go. Yet his willingness to give up so easily pierced her heart sharply. She clenched her teeth. Something pricked beneath her eyes, but she fought not to cry.
"Your wounds are not healing well, so I will go find a more effective herb. So that you may leave quickly."
That was the best she could do. She tried to remain composed and hid her expression. Yi-hwan remained silent, then left the room.
---
Even after that day, Yi-hwan tended to Hyeon as before. He checked on her as she lay in bed, made sure she ate and took her medicine, and acted plainly. Yet Hyeon could not feel entirely grateful for that composure.
To forget these feelings, Hyeon decided to climb the mountain.
Her body had grown lighter, and it was time to gather herbs.
"Let's find Yeongguncho."
During the day, it looked like common weeds and was hard to distinguish, but at night it bloomed and became visible. Hiking the mountain at night was quite dangerous, so it was rare and precious, but she had found it a few times before. It had been a while since she had gone up the mountain, but she had done it every day for the past five years—gathering herbs should not be difficult. That herb was said to be a miracle cure for festering wounds. She wanted to find it and give it to Yi-hwan. It was the most precious thing she could offer.
"Where are you going?"
"I have a lot of work piled up."
He nodded and went back inside. An indifferent attitude.
But thinking about it, it was strange. He was a man who had always fretted over Hyeon's safety. Yet Hyeon felt no unease—she shouldered her small pack and left the house.
Dusk was settling around her. There were wild animals in the mountain at night, but she could not ask him to come along. This was a danger she had always faced on her own—it was only right this time too. Hyeon slowly entered the mountain.
"Ah!"
After searching for a very long time, she found a flower with three neatly bloomed petals. She approached carefully, holding her pack close to confirm—it was indeed Yeongguncho. Lucky. If she could find just a couple more... She smiled for the first time in a while.
Then a great wind blew. A sweeping swish as the grass bent. Within it, a rustling sound reached her ears. Hyeon's back flinched.
Having seen spirits for years, Hyeon acutely sensed the damp, sinking shift in the atmosphere around her. Her hands grew urgent as she carefully placed the herb she had found. Rustle, rustle. The presence grew closer. Hyeon rose and ran without looking back. Something was unmistakably hunting her, following close behind.
"Huff— haah—!"
Her thighs burned. She had run until her breath choked in her throat, yet her pursuer kept on. The sound grew nearer.
"Aaaah!"
Her hair, which had bounced with every stride, was caught in a rough hand. The pain was as if her scalp were being torn. The man who grabbed her yanked her hair mercilessly and shook her. The sky and earth flipped and returned, over and over. The brute hurled Hyeon's head toward the ground without mercy.
Her head, smashing against the dirt, rang with a dull thud. Blood flowed from where her skull had struck a stone. But there was no time to tend to the wound. Hyeon forced herself to stay calm and focused on every sensation.
"Grrrgh..."
A strange sound leaked from the ruffian's mouth. His left and right pupils rolled in different directions. The muscles of his face were twisted, asymmetrical. Hyeon crawled backward on the ground.
"No... no."
Fear beyond anything she had ever known overwhelmed her. That was something wearing a human mask. She had never seen or even heard of such a thing. She scraped the dirt, clutching fistfuls of soil.
Get up in one burst. Throw dirt in its face and use the opening to run... Fortunately, the opponent was a man of slight build. Hyeon quickly gathered her thoughts and sprang up. She threw the dirt in his face as planned. But she could not turn and flee. Her whole body seized, as if bound tight by something.
"Grrrrr..."
It's not human. Even with dirt in his face, the man showed no agitation. He merely made grotesque sounds and swayed his upper body. And behind him—she saw a black mass heaving, something she had never once seen before.
An ominousness beyond any evil spirit oozed forth.
"Ghk..."
The man approached, knocked her down, and pressed down on her throat. Her soft flesh was crushed without mercy.
She clawed and kicked at his hands, gasping—but he did not budge. Tears streamed involuntarily, and her mind grew hazy.
---
"They swarm so thickly around you—how could your surroundings ever be peaceful? It is a miracle you are even alive and well, miss."
Suddenly, she remembered the words Yi-hwan had said when they first met. So that was what he meant... Hyeon traced her fate—destined to be devoured by evil spirits in the end. And she thought of the people she had lost. Guilt, wretchedness, the faces of those she had loved passed before her eyes—and the last thought that crossed her mind was, in the end, just one.
I don't want to die.
A dull scraping sound echoed from above. In the moment Hyeon repeated that truth in her heart, she felt the killer atop her fall away. Someone approached, trampling the dirt slowly. She wanted to confirm who it was, but she had no strength left. Yet she felt she knew who it was without looking.
"You told me to leave quickly."
Hyeon coughed and rasped, barely recovering her breath. Tears streamed down her face, blurring her vision. She sensed a strange cheerfulness in his voice.
"As I thought, you need me."
"Hu... huuuh..."
"There, there. Don't cry, miss."
He looks happy. Hyeon thought so even through her hazy consciousness. Yi-hwan leaned her against him as if it were familiar and wiped her face. His touch was cool yet gentle. She shuddered with relief.
Somehow, I lived. I survived. She burrowed into his embrace compulsively.
"Oh dear."
He smiled as if troubled, and patted her.
"Graa... grrrrgh..."
Then, from the right, the brute's groans sounded. It had not risen to approach, but its sounds grew clearer, as if it was regaining consciousness. Hyeon trembled violently and gripped Yi-hwan's hand tight.
"Hii— g-get away. Quickly..."
"Before that, miss."
She looked up at his voice—calm beyond composure.
"Are you not curious as to why that thing appeared?"
"Hwan... Yi-hwan..."
"Because the offerings have run out. There are no humans left nearby, so it is coming for you. If you only run from here, you will never escape."
Yi-hwan smiled beautifully as he continued. Hyeon stared at him blankly.
"My wounds have nearly healed as well. I will now teach you how to free yourself from the evil spirits. The time seems ripe."
"..."
"Come..."
He placed something into Hyeon's small hand. Her face, gazing down at it with hollow eyes, began to tremble.
"Stab it."
What Yi-hwan had given her was a sharply honed dagger.
"...What?"
"Kill that thing— devoured by evil spirits, now a demon itself."
"..."
"To defeat an evil spirit, you must become one yourself."
Yi-hwan wore a face he had never shown before. Hyeon's teeth chattered. At least for now, Yi-hwan was far more chilling than the demon. His face as he spoke of killing was as bright as an innocent child's.
"I can't... I can't."
"Then do you choose to die?"
"Hh... huu..."
"Is death not the most frightening thing to a human?"
He tilted his head, as if he could not understand. Then he grinned as if realizing something.
"Then again—since the beloved you pined for day and night has become a demon clinging to you even now, you might think dying by its hands is not so bad."
"Wh— what are you..."
The dagger slipped from Hyeon's hand and clattered to the ground. Her entire body trembled wretchedly. Her dead lover had become an evil spirit and clung to her. Hyeon could not even blink.
"But think carefully. The living should live, should they not?"
Yi-hwan continued naturally. The hand that stroked her shoulder affectionately was still cold. Come to think of it, this man's hands had always been cold. Like a corpse.
"Liar..."
"Haha."
He casually laughed at her desperate denial.
"Are you going to tell me you did not know?"
Yi-hwan wiped the tears streaming down Hyeon's cheeks, rubbing them with his thumb.
"You knew, did you not? Sometimes... you must have seen him."
Hyeon trembled, struggling to breathe.
Yes. There had been nights when she thought it might be possible. In truth, countless times. When she glimpsed a shape in her dreams that resembled her old lover. When a scent more familiar than anyone's reached her cheek on the wind. When she caught a faint glimpse of him among the black masses... But she had insisted it could not be. He could not be. He was the one who had loved her more than anyone.
---
"I'll protect you. I'll live my whole life for you."
He had smiled and promised her that.
"Will you spend your whole life tormented by the demon of your dead lover, waiting only for the day you die by its hands?"
"Ah... aaaah..."
Hyeon's eyes were half-lost, tears flowing freely. Yi-hwan pressed close to her side, coiling around her like a snake.
"Hm?"
"Hh... huuh..."
"Come now, it is not difficult. I will help you. You are so afraid, so cover your eyes..."
He began to urge her on. Yi-hwan pulled a soft white cloth from his pocket. It was the cloth Hyeon wore over her eyes, fearful of the nights when evil spirits came. Yi-hwan slowly draped it over her eyes and tied it. Hyeon's sobbing grew louder.
"Ah... aah... No... no..."
"You are becoming free."
She wailed that she could not, yet she could not shake off Yi-hwan's hand. The hilt of the knife was placed in her small hand, and he wrapped his own around hers.
Hyeon, having lost her roots, could judge nothing. Yi-hwan exploited that with keen precision.
And finally,
"Miss, just trust me."
He gave birth to her sin.
Hyeon felt the blade in her hand plunge into something with a dull thunk, and she screamed. Tepid blood ran down the knife and touched her fingertips. After that, everything went dark.
***
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