She looked at me with teary eyes, then hurried inside.
I leaned against the hallway wall, massaging my temples. And then what? What about the days before this? Had she only gone when I was asleep? Taking care of her was like tending to a plant with withered roots. You give it water, and it becomes terrified of drowning.
That night. Back home.
The sky outside had already turned dark.
I sat in the armchair, a book open on my lap, but my mind was drifting.
A stomach growled.
I turned toward Alicia, who was standing in the corner of the room, half-hidden in the shadows.
"Come here."
She approached with stiff, hesitant steps, prompting a soft sigh from me.
"Here." I held out five gold coins. "Go out and get some food. Buy whatever you want for the two of us."
She stared at the gold coins as if they were hot coals.
"W-What kind of food, Master?"
"Anything. Use your instincts. Go."
She left with hesitant steps.
I waited in silence, my cigarette smoke my only company.
Would she be alright on her own? I didn't know; I just needed the quiet right now. Staring at a living mannequin in the corner of the room was suffocating.
Half an hour later, she returned, carrying a greasy paper parcel. The aroma of premium roasted meat filled the room.
She placed the parcel on the table, then carefully set the change—four gold coins and eighty silver—right next to it.
Every single spare coin returned.
"Eat," I said.
Alicia took a skewer of meat. Then, she did something that made my blood run cold for a second.
She walked over to the corner of the room, toward an empty spot on the floor near the wardrobe, and began to lower herself to sit.
Like a dog that knew its place.
"Stop."
My voice wasn't loud, but it was sharp.
Alicia froze half-crouched.
I crushed my cigarette into the ashtray.
Standing up, I walked over to her.
The floor was cold. Hard. A place meant for dust and shoes.
She was placing herself there voluntarily because she believed that was where her existence belonged.
I exhaled a long breath, pushing down the dull ache in my chest.
I crouched in front of her, bringing my face level with hers.
She was trembling, bracing for a strike or a shout.
I took the meat from her hand, then gripped her shoulders. Gently, but firmly.
"Get up," I said.
"Sit on the chair. At the table. With me."
"B-But Master... I..."
I looked into her trembling eyes. "Don't make me look down to find you."
I guided her to her feet, leading her to the chair at the small table by the window.
She sat there, rigid and bewildered.
I picked up my food, sat back in my armchair, and began to eat.
"Eat. After that, sleep on the bed."
"Understood..." Her voice cracked, sounding dangerously close to a stifled sob.
That night, she ate at the table.
One small step up the ladder of humanity.
It suddenly dawned on me.
This wasn't resonance.
I wasn't holding a monster crystal. I wasn't brushing against the residual memories of the dead.
Which meant the quiet frustration burning in my chest...
It was mine.
For the first time in a long while, I was feeling an emotion that hadn't been imported from the outside.
Annoyance. Frustration. An aching impatience at her sheer helplessness.
This girl, with all her broken pieces, had managed to do what thousands of monsters could not: she forced me to feel something of my own.
I watched her for a moment, taking in the hollow look in her eyes.
Fragile. It was the only fitting word for someone with such a battered soul.
She wasn't just a cracked mirror. She was flint. And the friction between our respective emptiness had somehow produced a genuine spark.
"How annoying..." I muttered under my breath, taking a deep drag of my cigarette.
It felt like being alive, even if the only thing I felt was anger.