—Huh? What is it?
“There’s something I’d like to ask you.”
But Justyn didn’t immediately say what that something was. He only opened his mouth once the doll’s tail started flicking impatiently, as if to prod him along.
“I heard you spent time with Ries yesterday. Did… something happen to him?”
—Hmmm.
Sefiut let out a low hum.
A predictable question—so much so that his earlier prodding now felt unnecessary. Then again, what else would that boy be concerned about besides that little furball?
His voice was calm, as if feigning composure, but ironically that calmness only betrayed his anxiety.
Still, that was his anxiety, and this was a separate matter entirely. He didn’t want to be some blabbermouth adult running around telling tales.
—There’s nothing you need to worry about. The little guy did go through a bit of emotional change… but that’s something time will sort out.
“…I see.”
—So don’t go inventing some nonexistent mistake and apologizing like an idiot. Just wait it out. Sooner or later, he’ll come to you himself and say he’s sorry.
“……”
The tension in Justyn’s red eyes gradually eased. In essence, all Sefiut had said was wait—but even that was enough to bring him a sense of relief.
Sefiut mentally patted himself on the back for soothing his descendant so effectively, then turned away.
—The little one’s probably waiting. If that’s all you wanted to ask, I’ll be going now.
Justyn didn’t stop him.
Once the doll had exited, Justyn sat alone in the office, absently twirling the quill in his hand. The raw nerves fraying his patience finally began to mend.
He could wait. He had to.
Justyn repeated the words over and over in his mind, like a warning to himself.
***
Meanwhile, Ries, completely unaware that Sefiut hadn’t followed him, reached the attic and was instantly met with unexpected news from Hillein.
—I’ll do it.
“Wha—?”
—Just like you said. I want to meet Justyn… I want to meet my son.
“…!”
Whatever shift had taken place in her heart, her stubbornness had vanished overnight. Ries trembled, momentarily forgetting that this ghost had been the very cause of his mental turmoil.
He’d come all this way, badgered her endlessly, all to arrange a meeting between her and Justyn—and finally, that effort had paid off.
That was when Sefiut arrived.
—Oh? Looks like you’ve already told him.
“Meeeeyak?!”
Wait, he already knew?
Ries’s jaw dropped. He turned sharply, a hint of betrayal and shock on his tiny feline face. Sefiut caught that expression easily and snorted.
—Hah, so you’re finally in a state where you can actually listen?
“……”
Well—he wasn’t wrong.
In the state he’d been in yesterday, no words would’ve registered, no matter how important. Ries averted his eyes in quiet agreement.
The ghost’s face was flushed with both anticipation and nervousness. It didn’t matter how Hillein had come to her decision.
What mattered was that she’d made it—that she’d chosen to meet Justyn. The outcome Ries had long wished for was finally within reach.
He wanted to take her to him right now, but…
“Meowk. Awooong.”
It wasn’t that simple. First, they needed to talk more. And for that—he had to change forms.
The now-familiar sensation wrapped around him, his vision rose with his transformation, and then—
—Ah, I never even got to pet you yet…
“……”
He ignored the wistful mumble behind him and cleared his throat.
“You made the right decision. But… it’s not something we can do right away. We’ll need to practice a bit.”
—Practice? What do I need to do?
“It’s not you. It’s… me who needs the practice.”
Because it wasn’t just about wanting them to talk. That didn’t make it possible.
Normal humans couldn’t see spirits—not unless under very specific circumstances. Justyn was no exception. In order for him to converse with Hillein, a medium was necessary.
That medium was Ries.
By continuously channeling his own energy into Hillein, he could temporarily give her a faint physical form—just enough for her to be perceived.
In other words, it was a half-materialization—and Ries was the anchor tying her to the physical world.
I think I can do it.
Granted, he’d never actually tried.
But he had a vague, inexplicable confidence—maybe the same strange intuition that had always whispered the right direction in his ear.
If I can just modify what I did with Sefiut…
He recalled the sensation of holding something in his hands that should’ve passed through them like mist. That moment with Hillein when they first met had felt the same.
With a bit of tweaking, he could turn that sensation into something visible to Justyn’s eyes.
It would take trial and error. But first, there was something he needed to ask.
“Do you… not want to go into a doll?”
Ries’s last resort.
Entering a doll would give Hillein a proper body—she’d be visible, audible, able to interact with the living. There was even a literal example of it standing beside them.
The only downside was that once she entered, she wouldn’t be able to leave at will. So he asked cautiously—and got an immediate answer.
—That’s a no.
—……
“……”
Awkward silence.
Considering there was someone currently stuck in a doll body present, it wasn’t exactly the best topic to bring up.
Ries looked away and added softly,
“Got it. In that case… may I have your hand for a moment?”
—Here.
Her translucent hand extended toward him.
He took a deep breath and grasped it. First came the chill. Then, the sensation—surprisingly similar to human skin—against his fingertips.
So far, this was familiar.
Instinctively, Ries stirred the energy within his body—the same power he’d used every time he smacked down anyone who dared threaten Justyn.
Except this time, he didn’t gather it in one point.
Don’t focus on the tree. See the forest. Spread it further, wider—send it out to the furthest reaches, and then draw it back into a great, cyclical flow.
Eyes closed, he pictured the result he wanted again and again in his mind.
—Oooh.
A small murmur of wonder escaped her lips. Taking it as his cue, Ries opened his eyes.
She looked mostly the same—Hillein, unchanged. But the shift was there.
Where her form had once been dull and faded, a subtle vibrancy now bloomed.
Her entire presence had more weight to it. Though still mostly monochrome—and though something still felt off if you looked too closely—this was enough.
—Wow! My body!
Hillein, noticing the change, beamed. She even threw her hands into the air—only for the form to instantly dissolve again.
“You, uh—you have to keep holding my hand.”
—Ah, right! Sorry. I got too excited.
She grabbed his hand again. This time, the energy surged back faster, more smoothly. As the life returned to her form, she looked herself over with sparkling eyes.
—I never thought I’d get to feel this again. My body feels heavy—my feet actually touch the ground. It’s like… I’m alive again.
“……Do you not like it?”
—Of course not! I told you—it feels like I’ve come back to life. I’ve been dead for a long time. Who knows when I’ll ever feel this again? I might as well enjoy it while I can!
Ries had asked just in case, but the answer was exactly what he’d expected. Judging by the slight darkening of her cheeks, she might even be blushing.
Well, this is a good thing.
Still—success wasn’t the end of the road.
He had to maintain this form long enough for her to truly talk with Justyn. If he lost focus for even a moment, her physical presence would crumble, like before.
Which meant this would require concentration, stamina… and a decent amount of patience.
If he practiced until the feeling became second nature, he could probably pull it off more smoothly. But that was easier said than done.
—So? Have you thought about what I said yesterday?
Turns out, distractions could come from outside too.
Ries’s focus faltered. Hillein’s form flickered, then dulled all at once.
—Ah.
—Hmph… Maybe that topic’s not such a good idea right now. Look at him. If you keep poking at it, he’ll bolt before you can blink.
—Th-that won’t do… Ries? I’m sorry. That was because of what I said, wasn’t it? I won’t distract you again. Um, but I’m still curious, so after practice is over…
“Kh-hmm, ahem—It’s fine. It’s fine.”
He barely managed to reel in the runaway thoughts. His words came out stammered, and the blush on his cheeks wouldn’t go away no matter how hard he tried.
…She just had to add that last part, didn’t she?
He was staring at Hillein, and yet Justyn’s masked face kept drifting into his mind like a ghost.
He’d once thought the two didn’t resemble each other much—aside from their smiles—but now? Now, he could see it clearly. They were practically mirrors of each other.
Even after five failed attempts, Ries eventually managed to maintain Hillein’s half-materialized state for a respectable amount of time.
And then—he bolted.
—Ah. There he goes.
—You’re the one who kept adding fuel to the fire. He’s already confused enough, and now you go stirring things up.
—Uugh… sorry.
—…Still. Your approach wasn’t wrong. We might hear good news sooner than we think.
Hillein’s eyes sparkled again—like she hadn’t just been sulking minutes earlier.
All ghostly eyes should look the same, dull and lifeless—but hers always seemed to shine.
—Hehe. Honestly… If I could, I’d borrow a doll like you just to stick around and watch. But time won’t allow it, unfortunately.
—Ngh.
Sefiut’s brow furrowed slightly.
Being trapped in this doll had been a sort of unfortunate accident for him—but Hillein didn’t even have that option.
—Is it because you don’t want him to see your end?
—What kind of parent would want to show their child something like that? I just… I don’t want him to blame himself. That’s why this is my choice.
The doll’s round eyes narrowed.
He’d known from the first moment he met her. Hillein’s soul was already deeply worn down. Most likely, it was because she’d stayed near Justyn for far too long.
The curse born from the malice of countless people… To the living, it caused revulsion and dread—but to the dead, it was even more dangerous.
Spirits linger in this world because of lingering emotions at the moment of death—strong feelings like hatred, love, longing, or regret. Those feelings are what tether them here.
And those feelings… are not so different from curses.
Both are born from intense emotion. Both are built on binding forces. So, naturally, they affect each other.
And how could the will of one soul compare to the malice of hundreds or thousands?
A brief encounter wouldn’t do much. The cold, the fear—it’d be unbearable, but not fatal.
But long-term exposure?
The emotional tether—the very essence of a soul—would begin to rot.
Hillein knew this.
Sefiut sighed heavily.
—Foolish woman.
If the damage became irreversible, there were only two possible outcomes: she’d either be corrupted into a wraith, or shattered entirely—gone forever.
Her tether was love and longing—a desire to watch over her son.
Such a cruel paradox. She had chosen to suffer… in order to stay.
And yet, Sefiut was sure of one thing: Ries had been right.
His descendant might be slow, overthinking everything, barely able to keep up with his own feet—but still, that boy deserved to know.
That someone who had loved him so deeply—so beautifully—was his mother.
And that even though she knew her love might never reach him, she’d given it freely, again and again, through all these long, silent years.
