Chick 256
by Cristae256
“Will you not call me father anymore? It was you who chose me as your father.”
“…….”
Mephisto hung his head, unable to meet his eyes, and fell silent.
It was true. The one who had tried to bind him with the ties of family, calling him father, was none other than himself.
And it was himself who cut that tie.
Even now, he felt as if he might be crushed under the weight of his guilt.
But even so, there were words he knew he had to say.
Mephisto forced himself to speak.
“Please… give On Joorim back to On Groo…”
Would Shea truly understand?
How special the affection was that Groo and Joorim held for each other.
Mephisto knew better than anyone. He, too, had once felt that way.
He was the one who longed for a father’s love, the one who told him family was precious—Groo.
Mephisto wished to return a father to Groo.
Even if it meant risking Shea’s seal again.
He wasn’t certain if it would be possible now, but—
As he bit his lip, Shea reached out with his long fingers, lifting Mephisto’s chin to raise his face.
“……!”
Mephisto found himself unable to breathe as he met Shea’s gaze.
Since sealing his father in the snowy plains, this was their first time meeting face to face.
Up until he lost his memory, he had always dreaded these encounters.
He had feared what his father’s reaction would be.
Would it be biting criticism, a thunderous rebuke? Or that same cold indifference as always, devoid even of reproach?
He had spent many nights worrying which it would be.
Looking at the anxious child, Shea sighed as if to himself.
“Now that you keep your distance, it’s as though there’s a great hole in my heart. Is this regret, or sadness? Perhaps both?”
“Pardon?”
Mephisto gazed at Shea with a bewildered expression.
The child blinked, thoroughly confused.
“What must I do for you to call me father again?”
“……?”
He couldn’t comprehend what Shea was saying; the words simply refused to register.
Shea tilted his head, watching the silently dazed Mephisto.
“Truly, raising a child is difficult. I understand now why On Joorim has struggled.”
He understands? He understands?
Mephisto could scarcely keep up with Shea, but the mention of On Joorim brought him back to himself and he spoke again.
“P-please, return On Joorim—”
“Of course.”
Startled by the easy answer, Mephisto stiffened his shoulders. Was it truly that simple?
Shea responded to the unspoken question in Mephisto’s eyes.
“If this is what you all so earnestly wish for, I want to grant it. Is this what it means for a father to care?”
He seemed genuinely puzzled as he questioned Mephisto.
“……?”
Mephisto, genuinely lost, only blinked again in confusion.
Shea, failing to find the answer, turned to Bailach, who responded with gravity.
“Myumyuu. Myumyumyut.” (I am single and have never had a spouse in my life. That’s what ‘mosol’ means in the Earth language. So, I do not understand a father’s heart either.)
Shea, finding joy in learning a new term, replied,
“Then I, too, am a ‘mosol’.”
“Myu.” (That is correct.)
“There is no one here who would know, so I suppose I must ask On Joorim.”
“Myu.” (You should.)
With a slight lift of his lips, Shea carried the conversation along naturally in response to Bailach.
“Toward you, I feel a tightness in my heart. I suppose this must be remorse.”
“…….”
Bailach’s mouth dropped open. Mephisto’s did the same.
With both a child and an odd-looking hamster standing there agape, Shea watched them in apparent amusement. Then he took a piece of bread from Groo’s arms and placed it in Mephisto’s mouth.
As Mephisto hesitantly chewed the bread, Shea stroked his hair.
Startled, Mephisto retreated a few steps.
Shea gazed at the hand that had brushed the soft hair and spoke.
“I’ll return for today, so there’s no need to worry.”
Mephisto opened his mouth as if to say something, but Shea continued without concern.
“It’s a pity Groo does not have the power to make me a body right now… Instead, I shall watch over you all from the snowy plain. When the time comes, let us meet again.”
“A-are you serious?”
“For that day, help Groo as much as you can.”
Mephisto nodded vigorously, relief flooding through him.
If Shea left quietly, there would be no need to seal him away as before…
The ache in his chest was brief, for in the next moment, Shea leaned in close and whispered in Mephisto’s ear.
“When that day comes, I shall be waiting for you to call me father again.”
“……!”
So saying, Shea, in his usual capricious way, closed his eyes as if his work here was done.
Mephisto stood dumbfounded, mouth slightly agape.
Is it true? Will I truly be allowed to call him father again?
There was so much more he wished to ask.
Crackle!
In the same instant these words ended, the dungeon shattered.
Clang!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Gidan, having shooed the Orchestra’s team leaders outside, stood with his back braced against the Guildmaster’s office door.
Like a horde of zombies, the team leaders pounded at the door, intent on seeing On Joorim, who was suffering from amnesia.
With word spreading, even those unaware of the situation gathered to gawk, swelling the crowd before the Guildmaster’s office even more.
Crossing his arms and leaning against the door, Gidan looked into the empty Guildmaster’s office and spoke.
“…I hope they found Groo safely.”
Sergey, seated in Joorim’s chair, spun it around lazily.
“Said they were going to look for Groo. So yes, I imagine they found him.”
He spoke as if it was none of his concern, but there was a note of worry in his tone.
Then—
“Oh, Groo’s GPS is active.”
“At home.”
Confirming that Groo was home, Gidan and Sergey both exhaled in relief.
They had been so startled when Groo vanished while their guard was down.
At that time, it had been Shea who stopped the two as they had set out to search for Groo.
“You two, stay here and sign a few things for me.”
Those had been his parting words…
“Groo really is something. From Gnosis, now to the Master of the 99th Floor… I hope Joorim will be alright…”
Gidan muttered in amazement as the sound of furious knocking at the door continued to ring out.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
“Ah, the team leaders really are too much…!”
Watching the scene, Sergey propped his chin on the desk, spinning a pen idly as he spoke in his usual tone.
“Can’t you just tell them On Joorim’s left for the day?”
“…What?”
“Time for me to get off work, too.”
Checking that it was already 18:00, Sergey stood up from his seat.
“Hey—wait—?”
Sergey brushed past Gidan and opened the door before the horde of ‘zombies.’
“It’s the end of the workday.”
At this, the team leaders, who had still had fire in their eyes, seemed to awaken from a dream and lost the energy in their limbs.
“Oh, you’re right.”
“Is it that late already?”
“Guess I’ll head home.”
And so everyone began to disperse, gently shimmering away.
“…What?”
Gidan watched, mouth open, as Sergey left along with the team leaders.
“Gasp!”
Joorim jolted awake and sat up.
‘Where am I…?’
He glanced at his hand, slick with cold sweat, then took in his surroundings.
‘Home?’
Wherever he looked, it was his room—now crowded with the dolls Groo had filled it with, one by one.
As though to prove it was no illusion, a warm little body clung to his right arm.
On the child’s head, an ugly hamster, a baby rabbit, and a white bird slept huddled together, bellies exposed.
The peaceful scene set his mind at ease.
Staring at the children, Joorim let out a deep sigh.
“…Haa.”
Exhaling slowly, he lay back down.
For some reason, it felt as if he’d been trapped in an incredibly long dream.
His final memory was of returning after meeting Jeon Byeongho.
Then, Shea had suddenly appeared, and before he knew it, he had found himself upon an icy throne, looking out over the snowy plains.
He had shared, within his own body, Shea’s emotions and consciousness amid that bleak, empty expanse.
Searching his memories, he swept his left hand over his face, then checked his phone.
A flood of missed calls had come in—from Kazuki, Gidan, Sergey, and just about everyone else.
“…Ah.”
Remembering how Shea had pretended to suffer from amnesia to play along with him, a surge of anger rose up in Joorim.
If only he’d truly forgotten everything, but why did he remember it all? In his frustration, he smacked his forehead with his palm.
No matter how many times he tried to provoke him, Shea gave no response. Surely he was aware of all of it.
Perhaps he was simply enjoying Joorim’s discomfort.
‘Did Shea choose to be sealed of his own will?’
He had regained consciousness, and Shea now slept once more in his left hand.
The only difference was that now, he no longer needed a glove.
He gazed quietly at his bare left hand.
Since Shea had chosen of his own accord to seal himself away, there was no longer any need to spend sleepless nights, fearing that the control of his body would be stolen away again.
Joorim let out a faint, self-mocking laugh.
All of this—it was all because of the little one clinging to his right arm, smacking his lips in his sleep.
No one could have believed that the Master of the 99th Floor would so meekly grant a child’s wish. Joorim himself could hardly believe it.
He lay down once more and pulled Groo into his embrace.
Shea’s final question echoed in his mind.
“So this is what a father’s heart is?”
Joorim answered his question at last, albeit belatedly.
‘Yes.’
He felt sudden anger just thinking of Groo running out on his own, heedless of what might happen.
Yet remembering the child who said he missed his father filled him with helpless, aching sorrow.
Overwhelmed by deep, potent affection, Joorim pressed a kiss to Groo’s forehead.
Perhaps roused by the touch, Groo mumbled drowsily in his sleep,
“…’Aba’?”