I Hit the Back of the Tower Master’s Head - Chapter 5

Episode 5

In the morning, just like I asked, Pinocchio carried Ruse out and plopped him into a chair at the table.

Ruse winced for a moment, probably because his tailbone still hurt.

“Thanks for the food.”

He greeted Lily politely, and Lily gave him a small nod.

I stirred my soup absentmindedly, sneaking glances at him while he neatly cleaned his bowl.

The house felt weird today.

Maybe because it was the first time in ages I’d heard a human voice echoing around inside for more than a day.

“Does it not suit your taste?”

Ruse stopped tearing his bread and asked.

I blinked, caught his dark-blue eyes for a few seconds too long, and then scrambled for an excuse, scribbling slowly in my notebook.

[Your clothes… don’t they feel a bit short?]

Ruse looked down at himself.

The outfit was something Grandpa Ezra had lent me—his “largest size” still didn’t quite fit.

The sleeves and ankles showed, and the chest area looked tight.

“It’s bearable.”

But he’s a patient, and a patient should be comfortable.

I spooned the last of my soup and made up my mind.

I’d go out and buy him new clothes today.

As long as he’s here, I should do what I can.

And don’t forget—it’s because of my doll that his memories are gone.

“…You mean you’ll take me with you?”

He hesitated before asking.

I shook my head.

[You still can’t move properly. I’ll just measure your size.]

After breakfast, I grabbed the measuring tape I usually used when tailoring for Pinocchio.

〈That’s mine.〉

Pinocchio complained softly as he held Ruse upright.

I wrapped the tape gently around Ruse’s waist.

“No, Pinocchio,” I said in my head. “Everything in this house is mine.”

Pinocchio scowled silently.

“Ugh…”

[Oops—sorry, I’ll be gentler.]

I must’ve pressed against his wound. I loosened my grip and continued.

[Take a bath and sit tight. I’ll bring the new clothes, and we’ll reapply your medicine then.]

“I’ll handle the medicine myself. I saw how you did it yesterday.”

…Embarrassed about sitting half-naked yesterday, maybe?

I just nodded faintly and measured his arms and legs.

He twitched a little at first but soon went still.

[Back soon.]

“…Come back safe.”

As I closed the door, I caught that faint reply and smiled.

Sturdy, clean clothes—that was today’s goal.

Since he clearly liked moving around (judging from how he’d tried to walk yesterday), comfort was important too.

I stopped by Madame Sunflower’s shop, the most popular clothing store in Flora and Viola.

The little bell jingled twice before Madame herself bustled out.

“Oh my, Lunar. Didn’t you just get new spring clothes not long ago? Did your apron tear?”

[Nope.]

I tapped my light-blue dress and beige apron with a smile. Still perfectly fine.

[Someone new came to the village. I’d like to see some men’s clothes.]

“Men’s clothes, hm? People usually ask for durable ones. Come, let’s look.”

She picked out three or four sturdy, comfortable sets, and I bought them all.

Then she slipped me a straw hat with a smile.

“Take this too—free of charge.”

I thanked her, juggling the packages as I left.

In hindsight, I should’ve brought Pinocchio along.

I also planned to stop by the apothecary for more medicine, but with both hands full, maybe I’d just send him later.

That’s when Lulu’s voice suddenly shrieked inside my head.

〈Lunar! Big trouble!〉

My eyes widened, and I sprinted through the forest path.

〈Idiot, why’d you call her?!〉

〈What else was I supposed to do? Look at this mess! How are we supposed to fix this ourselves?!〉

The closer I got to the house, the louder Lily and Lulu’s bickering became.

I passed by startled neighbors and flung the front door open.

The bags and hat slipped from my arms and hit the floor.

I swallowed down my ragged breath.

“…Could you… help me, please.”

Ruse’s pale face looked up at me.

Pinocchio was holding him tightly, and his shirt was stained with blood.

Medicine bottles and bandages were scattered on the floor.

All the dolls had gone silent.

〈It’s a misunderstanding! I didn’t hit him!〉 Lily cried.

I raised my hand calmly.

“Put him down, Pinocchio.”

〈Misunderstanding! I didn’t hit him either!〉 Lulu shouted.

“I believe you. Just put him down slowly.”

Pinocchio dropped Ruse onto a chair with a thud.

I pulled his shirt up carefully.

He twitched but couldn’t stop me—the pain was too much.

Blood welled from the reopened wounds.

I gestured at Pinocchio.

“Go fetch the doctor from Viola.”

The towel I used to wipe him turned red in no time.

Ruse barely moved, only flinching once in a while.

Meanwhile Lily and Lulu babbled nonstop beside me:

〈He insisted on going outside, so we tried to stop him and—boom, this happened!〉

〈Exactly! He moved on his own and tore it open!〉

The door banged open.

Pinocchio had returned—dragging the doctor over his shoulder like luggage.

“Wahh!!” the poor man screamed as Pinocchio dropped him.

He staggered to the bathroom and threw up loudly.

Once he calmed down, he examined Ruse’s wound, looking pale.

“He overexerted himself… I don’t have the proper medicine with me.”

He glanced nervously at Pinocchio.

“I’ll send a boy to fetch it.”

“Can’t you just stitch it up?”

Ruse finally spoke.

“I want it to heal quickly.”

“Stitching without proper prep? That’s robbery against your own body.”

Silenced, Ruse looked away.

I paid the doctor, apologized for Pinocchio’s rough handling, and offered him a drink.

He downed it, refused Pinocchio’s escort, and staggered out.

[Did the dolls hit you?]

I ignored their protests and wrote it straight.

“Not at all.”

“I just wanted some fresh air. We argued a bit, that’s all.”

[Then I’ll open the window for you.]

I stood up and pushed it open.

Sunlight streamed inside.

“I’m sorry,” Ruse mumbled.

[Don’t apologize to me—apologize to your body.]

I tapped my pen against my palm, then tried to tempt him.

[Once you’re healed, want to go fishing?]

He blinked at the note.

[I get that you’re restless. But if you wait until you’re better, you can go wherever you like. I’ll even show you around.]

“…Honestly… it feels wrong to ask this when I owe you so much, but… why are you treating me this kindly? I don’t even know who I am. If I were you, I wouldn’t bother with someone like me.”

He looked startled by his own words.

His hands trembled, his brow furrowed, and he rubbed his temples, brushing his lips nervously.

“This village… it’s strange. Too kind.”

His blue eyes drifted to the window.

Outside, sunlight danced on the grass.

Children laughed and rolled on the ground.

Families gathered their little ones.

A young couple tucked wildflowers behind each other’s ears.

“…Strange.”

I thought his eyes looked like they were about to cry.

The dolls quietly slipped away, leaving us alone.

Ruse pressed a hand over his mouth and gagged.

[Here, new clothes.]

I shoved the folded clothes into his hands like nothing happened.

He looked at me with calmer eyes.

I plopped the straw hat onto his golden hair.

[When you’re healed, wear that hat and we’ll go fishing. Lots of people here find peace that way.]

“…You still haven’t answered.”

His voice was soft.

“Why are you so kind to me? Did I… borrow money from you or something?”

I burst out laughing silently.

He scowled, thinking I was mocking him.

I quickly scribbled again.

[You’re right. This village is strange.]

[I thought so too, when I was younger.]

[But trust me—if someone else had found you, they’d treat you the same. Maybe even kinder.]

“…But why?”

[That’s just the kind of people they are.]

I remembered the nobles who whispered about the Cheyenne curse, mocking my mother’s silence.

And I remembered this village—patient, kind, listening to my notes or even sign language.

Ezra, Albert, Jenny… and my mother, who had once laughed over roasting mushrooms.

[Now promise me you won’t tear your wound again.]

“…Not exactly under my control.”

He gave a faint smile.

[It’s your body, so take responsibility.]

“At least tell your dolls to stop poking me. Pinocchio especially.”

[Did he poke you again?]

“…No. Not really.”

[Then don’t frame my dolls. That’s evil.]

He sighed but still hooked his cold pinky around mine.

His fingers were icy.

His gaze dropped to our joined hands.

I squeezed, shaking it firmly.

“…I wasn’t framing them,” he muttered.

He pulled on the new clothes, which fit him far better.

His expression eased.

[How’s your headache?]

“Just a normal one.”

[Any memories back yet?]

“…None.”

He fiddled with the straw hat, smoothing the dented brim.

Caught, I turned my eyes away.

“…Fishing sounds fun,” he said at last.

And for the first time, a tiny flame-like smile appeared on his lips.