Anyway, this was my chance. While he was distracted by the mirror, I needed to call a doctor.
I carefully lowered myself and moved as quietly as possible so I wouldn’t make a sound.
I managed to reach the doorknob without being caught.
I slowly twisted it. The doorknob turned without making a sound.
Relieved, I grabbed the door and pulled it open—
“Hm?”
Why wasn’t the door opening?
I pulled harder.
Yet it didn’t even rattle.
I was struggling with it in confusion when a shadow fell over my head.
No way…
Prominent knuckles and taut veins stood out on the back of a large, pale hand.
It stretched over my crouched head and pressed firmly against the door.
I followed the arm that stood firm like a pillar and looked up.
My eyes met Shyte’s brown ones.
When did he get here?!
I jolted in surprise.
I couldn’t even scream. I hurriedly straightened my head and stared straight ahead.
I was getting desperate.
All I could think about was somehow getting out.
As I desperately tried to open the door by pulling on the doorknob again, the hot, damp warmth of a body drew much closer behind me.
“Madam.”
His voice, much lower and softer than usual, tickled my ear.
Goosebumps rose along the back of my neck.
My shoulders instinctively hunched.
My instincts told me I had to hide the fact that I was scared.
Okay. Don’t panic. Just act as naturally as possible—
“Wh-what?”
My voice came out like a frightened little goat.
My body was trembling, and my voice trembled along with it.
A scoff came from behind me.
This man is laughing at me!
My pride hurt, and I bit my lip.
Then a large body enveloped my back.
Shyte reached his arms around me as if embracing me. With his large hands, he slowly peeled my fingers away from the doorknob one by one.
“I’d like to have a little conversation with you.”
His voice was much gentler now.
The sudden change in atmosphere made me even more nervous.
“What, what do you want to talk about?”
“I wanted to apologize for being rude and rough with you earlier.”
“If that’s all, it’s fine. You probably got confused for a moment because you hit your head so hard. So, please, let’s get a doctor…”
I tried to grab the doorknob again, but Shyte caught my shoulder and turned me around.
“Before we call one, I’d like to discuss something a little more fundamental.”
“Something fundamental?”
A smile, almost as though it had been drawn onto his face, appeared on Shyte’s lips.
“Yes. It seems that I have amnesia.”
In the end, I sat facing Shyte.
His bloodstained coat had somehow ended up on the floor.
The clothes underneath were relatively clean.
There were bloodstains soaked into various parts of his shirt, but he didn’t seem to be seriously injured.
If there’s blood only on his coat, then that means that blood wasn’t Shyte’s. Did he get covered in someone else’s blood?
…That’s even scarier.
I forced my trembling body to calm down and sat in the spot closest to the door.
If he tries anything, I’ll run.
Unlike me, Shyte sat comfortably, looking around the room.
He claimed to have lost his memory, yet he seemed unbelievably calm.
Blood was still trickling from his forehead.
I was worried about the wound. He himself didn’t seem to think it was a big deal, though.
If I treat him, he won’t hurt me, right?
I cautiously stood up.
Shyte immediately turned his head toward me.
His eyes seemed to ask where I was going.
Instead of answering, I rummaged through the wardrobe.
There was a suspicious black mask inside, but I pretended not to notice it and took out a clean handkerchief.
I searched around until I found some ointment as well, then returned to the sofa and sat beside Shyte.
“Let me take a look at the wound on your head.”
He seemed to hesitate for a moment before obediently sweeping his hair back.
The wound was obviously painful just from looking at it.
I frowned without realizing it and carefully pressed around the injured area.
Shyte only twitched his brow and showed no other reaction.
Fortunately, it didn’t seem to be a fracture.
“Are you dizzy? Do you feel like vomiting? Is your headache severe?”
“Are you a doctor?”
The wariness and intimidating air had disappeared from Shyte’s attitude.
Naturally, some of my tension eased as well.
“I’m not a doctor, but I know a little. So, how are you feeling?”
“Did you receive any first-aid training?”
No, I asked if you’re in pain, so why does he keep saying these random things?
His constant non sequiturs were starting to irritate me.
Keeping my smile in place, I gritted my teeth and asked again, emphasizing every word.
“I asked whether you have any of the symptoms I mentioned.”
Only then did Shyte touch his head in several places.
“I have a headache, and it stings a little, but I’m not dizzy and I don’t feel like vomiting.”
I gently stopped the bleeding before applying ointment.
Once I had quickly finished treating the wound, Shyte let out a small exclamation of admiration.
“You seem quite skilled. So, are you a doctor?”
The conversation had naturally come back around.
The man who used to shrink away and flee whenever he merely brushed past me was now leading the conversation.
“I’m not a doctor. I attended quite a few medical school classes when I was an undergraduate. I thought they might come in handy someday, so I practiced a lot, too. By the way, what happened to your clothes?”
Shyte reflexively began to answer, but no sound came out.
He closed his mouth again.
Darn. He didn’t fall for it.
I was disappointed when Shyte looked at me as if to say, Nice try.
Then, suddenly, he smiled sweetly.
“I don’t remember.”
“You looked like you were about to answer me just now.”
“Of course not. You must have imagined it, Madam.”
His answer was careless.
He didn’t even meet my eyes, instead fiddling with the medicine I had brought.
Then he opened the ointment lid with his right hand.
I was about to question him again when a long, pale fingertip suddenly reached toward me.
I instinctively pulled my upper body backward, but I couldn’t avoid it completely.
Cold, rough fingers lightly brushed across my lower lip.
It felt sticky.
Not the atmosphere.
My lip, where he had touched it, was sticky.
I frowned and reached toward my mouth, but Shyte caught my hand and lowered it.
“You were injured as well, Madam. I applied some ointment, so it’s better not to touch it.”
“……”
“More importantly, it’s rather confusing to suddenly remember nothing. Where are we?”
Shyte asked this with an expression that showed absolutely no confusion whatsoever.
Once again, he felt unfamiliar.
He was absolutely not the sort of person who would casually touch someone else’s face.
And the intention behind applying the medicine was suspicious as well.
It was obvious what he had done.
He had deliberately flustered me to change the atmosphere, then smoothly changed the subject to avoid an uncomfortable question.
Does losing your memory somehow give you social skills you never had before?
Of course not.
I was confused.
He hadn’t recognized me.
That made it seem as though he really had lost his memory, but…
“What exactly don’t you remember?”
“Everything. Still, you called my name so desperately that I at least know that my name is Shyte.”
“What else?”
Shyte casually shrugged his shoulders.
Even that small gesture made him seem like a completely different person from Shyte.
I think I’ve heard of something similar in theology class before.
Being possessed by a demon, having another person’s soul enter your body, becoming insane because of black magic…
Stories about exorcising demons and breaking curses.
Of course, I didn’t believe in such baseless superstitions.
At least, I hadn’t before.
Yet, strangely, my eyes kept being drawn to Shyte’s right index finger.
The tip of his finger was glistening.
Some of the ointment I had applied to my lips still remained there, reflecting the light.
He opened the lid with his right hand. He also used his right hand whenever he blocked the door or grabbed me.
There was nothing strange about someone being right-handed.
Why else would humans have two arms? They’re there to be used.
However…
“Excuse me.”
“Yes, Madam.”
“Who are you?”
My husband, Shyte Henniswald, was perfectly left-handed.
