I Hit the Back of the Tower Master’s Head - Chapter 10

Episode 10

By the time evening came around, the jars of fruit jam were stacked neatly, and Lily pulled a batch of cookies from the oven—thickly coated in jam—before setting a plate of steamed fish in front of us.

Even while eating, Ruse kept glancing toward the oven where the sweet smell was drifting out.

Lily noticed his stare and flapped her chubby little arms.

〈If you don’t finish your fish, you’re not getting a single cookie!〉

I passed the message along to Ruse.

[She says if you don’t eat it all, no cookies.]

At that, Ruse started clearing his plate at lightning speed. Guess he really liked Lily’s cookies. I couldn’t help but chuckle.

When we were done, Lily shoved a plate of warm cookies into our hands and shooed us out of the kitchen. Even from the sofa I could hear her grumbling over the mountain of dishes.

The blueberry jam in the cookies was surprisingly good—no burnt taste at all. From the kitchen, Lily yelled out, as if she could hear the crunching.

〈Of course they’re good, right?!〉

‘Yeah, yeah…’

I pictured patting her head in thanks. She would’ve fussed for real pats, but the dishes kept her stuck in the kitchen.

Meanwhile, Lulu—finally dry after the laundry—wobbled down from the line and started sweeping up cookie crumbs. I slid a few extra cookies from my plate toward Ruse. He was munching away so happily that he blinked when he noticed my share in front of him.

“…You should eat too. Don’t just give them all to me.”

[I am eating. Besides, I’ve had plenty before.]

He whispered a quiet thanks and nibbled an apple cookie. Maybe because he’d prepared the apples himself, those were disappearing from the plate the fastest. Once they were gone, he reached for the apricot ones.

It was a soft, cozy evening.

Ruse was running through the dark. Freezing wind and snow lashed at him, but soon his body grew numb, like he was used to it. His body shrank, turning into that of a child. When he stopped, the darkness around him warped.

Myaaak. A cat’s cry.

The alley appeared—a snow-covered alley with a pitch-black cat, two different colored eyes glowing, tail swaying. It called out to him.

When he reached for it, the cat scattered like a mirage, leaving behind only a chunk of ice. His chest dropped at the sight.

Footsteps. Children with blurred faces closed in, laughing all around him.

“—Hhhah!”

Ruse gasped awake. Moonlight spilled through the half-closed curtains. He could see his own breath. What was that dream…? Cold. Terrifying.

Then he looked down at his bed.

“!”

Except for the spot where he’d been lying, the entire mattress was frozen stiff.

He stared at his hands in horror.

Monster.

It was like someone whispered it in his ear.

By morning, I found Ruse sprawled on the sofa. His face was pale, shadows under his eyes. He must’ve been awake all night. I waved a hand in front of him. He muttered faintly.

“…I caused an accident.”

What accident? I tilted my head. Ruse staggered up and opened my mother’s bedroom door.

I froze. Well, not that I can talk in the first place, but still—I had no idea what to do. The bed inside was frozen solid, leaving a person-shaped outline in the ice.

Ruse had never once used magic, and now suddenly he’d frozen an entire bed? I patted his sagging shoulders.

[You okay?]

[Don’t worry. The ice will melt soon.]

He opened his mouth, closed it again, lips moving without sound. I sat him down on the sofa and rolled up his sleeve to change his bandages. He just sat there, hollow-eyed. Completely out of it.

Lulu went in later and started screeching that the ice was impossible to clean. I silently cheered him on—hang in there, Lulu.

[You didn’t like the bed?]

“…Not at all.”

He murmured slowly.

“It was really comfortable.”

[Whatever happened…]

I scribbled something, then scratched it out black. I couldn’t even figure out how to comfort him. Maybe I should send him out for a walk with Pinocchio and clean up while he’s gone. Seeing the bed back to normal might ease his nerves.

[How about a little walk in the village after breakfast?]

“…Weren’t you the one who said not to move around?”

[That was so you wouldn’t tear your wound.]

[It’ll be fine if Pinocchio goes with you.]

His face soured at that.

“…I’d rather not go anywhere with Pinocchio.”

Pinocchio shot him a look like look who’s talking. Ruse still looked pale, but a little less ghost-like than before. He needed food in him first anyway.

Breakfast was muffins, milk, and salad. I asked Lily to bring jam. The moment the raspberry jam hit the plate, Ruse smeared it thick onto his muffin like it was instinct.

I split my muffin, spread some jam, and took a bite while side-eyeing him.

Noticing me watching, Lily flared up instead.

〈How dare you make Lunar nervous!〉

She marched over and kicked Ruse’s elbow. Pong!

Ruse glanced down at the crumbs on his arm and let out the faintest smile.

“…Is this her way of cheering me up? Guess she can’t pat me with hands like that.”

Lily flailed angrily, pretending to grab her neck. He only smiled more and dug into another muffin. I didn’t bother translating her rant.

Once Pinocchio had half-dragged Ruse out, I teamed up with Lulu to figure out how to melt that ridiculous block of ice. From the window I caught a glimpse of Ruse being hauled down the street like luggage.

Lily came in after finishing the dishes, clicked her tongue at the frozen bed. Honestly, I’d expected her to suggest torching the place, but she didn’t. She stomped instead.

〈This is Lunar’s mom’s room! I’d never do something so crude!〉

Good thing she knew better.

I brushed my hand over the ice. Cold. Of course. I had Lulu fetch some matches.

The flames barely made a dent before fizzling out. Burnt sticks piled on the floor, the ice stubborn as ever.

〈Why not just wait for it to melt on its own?〉 Lulu asked.

‘Then Ruse has nowhere to sleep.’

〈Make him sleep on the floor.〉 Lily huffed.

‘He’s still a patient. No way.’

〈Tch.〉

Maybe I should just smash it. Honestly, swinging an axe might be faster than burning matches all day. Where was Pinocchio’s old axe again?

〈In the shed, probably,〉 Lulu answered.

I grabbed it—a heavy, solid thing—and swung. Crack! A deep notch cut into the ice.

I swung again, harder. Crack, crack! The fractures spread. Lily and Lulu tried to help by batting at the ice with their tiny hands. I put the axe down before I accidentally hit them.

“Back already—”

The front door opened. Ruse stepped in, stopped mid-greeting. I straightened, stretching my sore back, while he quickly ducked behind Pinocchio.

“…I don’t know what I did wrong, but I’m sorry!”

“?”

BANG!

Pinocchio swung the axe like a pro. The whole block of ice split clean in two. For a second, I worried he’d cut the bed in half, but he only knocked the rest of the chunks loose and set the axe aside.

Lily and Lulu clapped. For once, Pinocchio looked almost bashful, scratching the back of his head.

“…This won’t happen again,” Ruse muttered, staring at the wreck of ice in the room. His hands trembled faintly.

Without thinking, I grabbed one. It was ice-cold.

He flinched, trying to pull away, but I held on. His shivers seeped into my fingers. I didn’t let go until my own hand went numb.

“…Let go,” he said, voice shaking.

“It’s dangerous. Please, let go.”

Slowly, I released him.

[Did you remember something?]

“…If I had, I wouldn’t be like this.”

His navy eyes half-closed, heavy with gloom and self-loathing.

[Then how did you use ice magic?]

“…I don’t know.”

He whispered again.

“I don’t know anything.”

The dolls glanced between us, then slipped out one by one. Even Pinocchio creaked on the way out, but neither of us commented.

Ruse ran his hand over the frozen shards on the bed. The ice didn’t melt, didn’t grow. It just… stayed.

I lit another match, pressed the weak flame against the chunks. He stared at it blankly.

[Is it something too hard to tell me?]

I blew out the match and lifted my notebook. He stared at the page.

[Then… can you at least share cookies with me?]

He rubbed at his eyes, then after a long pause, whispered,

“…Are there any left?”

There was the faintest catch in his voice, almost like a sob.

I looked at his shrunken shoulders, guilt gnawing at me. Had I broken his memory with that frying pan?

[If not, we’ll just bake more.]

Ruse peeked at my notebook through his fingers and managed a tiny smile. But the confusion in his face didn’t fade.

I called for Lily.

‘Bake some cookies.’