I Hit the Back of the Tower Master’s Head - Chapter 7

Episode 7

I finally had a chance to breathe, so… yeah, nap time.

I patted Lulu’s head, got up, slipped into my bedroom, yanked the curtains shut, and burrowed under the blanket. The soft quilt pressed down on me, and I sank helplessly into the pillow.

Ruse sat there, staring at the door Lunar had gone through.

Weird girl. He didn’t even know what exactly was weird, just… weird. His head was still fuzzy. His “memories” didn’t go further back than the day he’d woken up here.

“Uh… am I supposed to clean or something?”

Lulu waddled over and nudged his leg insistently. He stood up awkwardly, but Lulu just gave him a look of exasperation. Ruse lifted one leg, then the other, but Lulu pretended to faint in frustration.

Then Pinocchio stomped over, grabbed Ruse, and plopped him onto the sofa like a sack of flour. Only then did Lulu nod in satisfaction and start sweeping.

Staring at the dim ceiling lights, Ruse found himself remembering last night.

All night long, Lunar’s workshop had stayed lit. How did he know? Because he couldn’t stop staring. It wasn’t just the lamp—her hands had been spilling starlight, glittering like little shards of the night sky. Those star-fragments poured onto the doll, the pigeon—no, the eagle doll—moving under Lunar’s gentle direction.

Was magic always this… beautiful?

Not to him. To Ruse, magic was cold and hungry. It had never been this warm, playful, or comforting—like this quiet little house, or these mischievous dolls.

“Ugh…”

Pain stabbed his head. Ruse clutched his forehead and winced. Out of nowhere, Lily toddled over and held a finger to her lips like “shhh.”

He blinked at her, caught between annoyance and amusement. Then Lily, apparently satisfied with his silence, shoved a cookie into his hand.

Crumbs fell to the floor. Lulu scolded him. Lily just stuck her tongue out and ran to hide a cookie plate in Lunar’s workshop, wagging her tiny cloth finger at Lulu like she was the boss. Ruse sighed. Lunar’s life was never going to be boring with these dolls around.

The cookie was sweet, filled with strawberry jam. He smacked his lips without meaning to. Way too tasty. He glanced back at the workshop again, tempted to peek inside.

“…Do doll magicians not… actually make dolls very often?”

Nobody answered. The dolls just bickered. Funny how it made him realize how patient Lunar always was, answering his every random question.

“Hey, I wanted to ask—”

Before he could finish, Lily waddled off and returned with paper and a pen. She scrawled something huge and messy, like a toddler’s doodle.
“Whaaat d’you… want?”

Ruse just stared at the chicken scratch and fell silent.

He hadn’t noticed before, but when Lunar was asleep, the house was too quiet.

Normally, she was always busy—pattering footsteps, dolls cleaning shelves, Lily scolding someone, sometimes Pinocchio hauling furniture like a moving truck.

“Uh… any chance you’ve got books?”

He asked Lulu, the mildest of the bunch. Lulu flapped her wings. Was that a yes or a no? When he hesitated, she smacked him twice, then flew off and opened a door across from the workshop.

A tiny study. And “tiny” was the only word for it. Just a small bookshelf with only a handful of titles—all about dolls and doll magic. Sewing, stitching, stuffed toys…

Lulu went back to her chores. Ruse muttered the book titles under his breath until he pulled out a picture book. It showed how to make a sock doll, with cute illustrations.

“…Could anyone actually make this?”

He fiddled with his socks. No way. He’d never play with a sock puppet. Putting the book back, he wandered to the window. Just then, a village girl walked past.

Their eyes met. She bowed politely. He panicked and yanked the curtain shut.

When he peeked again, she was gone—but then came a heavy knock at the front door. Thud, thud!

“I saw someone inside!”

Pinocchio rushed to open the door.

“Ah, Pinocchio. Where’s Lunar? Sleeping? I told her it’d take two days, and she still overworked herself…”

The girl sighed and glanced at the closed bedroom door with worry. Then she spotted Ruse.

“Hello! You must be the guest staying here, right? What was your name… Ruse? Rose?”

“…Ruse.”

“Right! Nice to meet you. I’m Annie. We’re neighbors, so I thought I’d drop by and say hi.”

She grinned and handed Pinocchio a basket of herbs.

“Give these to Lily. My mom picked fresh herbs. And when my brother brings back a fish later, I’ll bring that too! Well, of course he’ll catch one—since Lunar made the bait herself, success is guaranteed! So, can you tell her she’ll be having a big fish for dinner tonight?”

Herbs, huh. Pinocchio nodded solemnly and accepted them. Annie bowed to Ruse and skipped out into the sunny afternoon. Ruse, watching the golden light, remembered Lunar again—her magic like scattered stars, birthing little dolls under their glow.

It was warm. Fairy-tale warm.

So why did his fingers keep freezing over? Cold seeped down to his wound as he pressed his frosted palm against it. The sting dulled, pain fading into a weird coolness.

Pinocchio suddenly jabbed his shoulder.

“What now…?”

The doll pointed at his wound, then mimed stabbing, then spread his hands wide like a threat.

“…You’re saying you’ll stab me?”

Shake, shake.

“…Blow me up?”

Shake, shake.

He squinted. Then it clicked.

“…Wait. Are you… worried about me?”

Pinocchio froze mid-gesture.

Ruse smirked faintly. “Guess that means yes.” The doll stomped away, grumbling. Embarrassed? Maybe. Either way, the pain had eased.

“Ugh, I only meant to nap for a bit.”

Lily stood in front of me, arms crossed, scolding me for sleeping all day. I smoothed my hair, tucked Lily under my arm, and headed out of my room.

The sun was already setting. Great. Now I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night.

“You’re awake?”

Ruse’s voice greeted me. I nodded lightly. He jerked his chin toward the kitchen.

“Your friend just dropped off some fish.”

Fish? I set Lily down, and she scampered to the kitchen. Sure enough, two fresh fish were laid out, with a neat bundle of herbs.

Who brought these?

〈Annie did.〉 Pinocchio answered.

I smiled faintly. ‘Lily, can you bake lots of bread in the morning? Stuff them with jam—lots of it.’

She nodded. Good. I’d send some bread to Annie’s house as thanks. I patted Lily and left the kitchen with Pinocchio. No crowding while Lily was cooking.

“Dinner’s fish, then?”

I nodded. My gaze fell on the half-open study door. That room only had books about dolls and doll magic. Mom had bought them one by one, and I used to read them sitting right beside her.

[Should I buy some more books?]

Ruse blinked at my notebook, glanced toward the study, then back at me.

“…Maybe. Most of them are just doll-making manuals. Nothing else.”

[Don’t you want to try making one yourself?]

He shook his head firmly.

“No thanks. I saw that sock-doll guide… Did you ever make one?”

[I tried once, for practice.]

I sat at the table, and he followed, sliding into his usual spot across from me. I wrote again.

[Every doll magician has a specialty. Mine’s cloth dolls. You don’t know that until you try all kinds of materials, though. I got lucky and found mine early.]

“What was your very first doll?”

[I named her Lily.]

He glanced at the doll bustling about. First doll—cloth type—and it had worked.

No wonder she’d kept refining it.

“…What about Pinocchio? Why make him?”

I hesitated before writing.

[My uncle encouraged me.]

“…Uncle,” Ruse murmured, reading the word. I quickly changed the subject.

[So, any books you’d like in particular?]

“…I don’t know. I just… get bored, that’s all.”

[Alright. I’ll bring back one of each type, then you can decide.]

“…Thanks.”

[You can also take short walks around the village. Only when the weather’s nice.]

“…Since I woke up, it’s only ever been nice weather anyway.”

I wrote one more line, smiling faintly.

[Bring Pinocchio with you. Always.]

“…Your dolls are way too rough.”

Pinocchio shook his head immediately.

〈Can’t help it, Lunar. Sometimes you have to use force. If this guy would stop pushing himself till his wounds burst, I wouldn’t have to step in at all.〉

I scribbled quickly.

[He says you’re gonna pop your wound open.]

Ruse muttered into his pumpkin soup, “…So it was worry.”

“?” I tilted my head, but Lily brought over steamed fish, and the conversation ended.

The fish was plump, steaming with herbal fragrance. I popped a piece into my mouth, and my mind wandered—bread for Annie, maybe add cheese bread, too.

“Seriously tasty. I’ll ask Lily to bake more.”

〈Bake more? Easy for you to say!〉

‘Yeah, try different kinds. I’ll even pat your head after.’

〈You think head pats cover everything?〉

‘One right now, then?’

I grinned and ruffled Lily’s cloth hair.