TBML 10

Kawww—kawk—kawk.

Ja-oh’s cry from above sounded as if it were mocking him, and the black tiger twisted his face into a grimace. With the patterns already covering his face, the added wrinkles made him look even more savage.

Despite the venom burning in the black tiger’s expression, Ja-oh continued to fly low over his head, cawing incessantly. It was disgraceful.

Since that day when he leapt between the big humans and the small one, the black tiger had been skulking around the edge of the village whenever he had the chance. If he crept low and perched at the top of the hill, he could sometimes catch a glimpse of the small human’s face under the round roof.

Sometimes at dawn, when the whole world was still, he would wander near the place where the small human had coiled himself to sleep. The more he looked, the more incomprehensible humans seemed. Strange, inexplicable things.

The way they shaped earth into nests was odd enough, but the nests themselves were the strangest of all. They hunted tigers holding rods that spat fire, yet their behavior reminded him of birds or hornets.

At first, the black tiger’s visits had started from simple curiosity. First, he wanted to understand the terrifying weapon that reeked of smoke and fire. Second, he wanted to observe the behavior of the small human.

Even Ja-oh, who had shrieked in horror the moment the black tiger had taken that first step toward the humans, had clung to his back, saying, “Youu must leearn about humans!” So he came along for the ride. After repeating the routine for a few days, the black tiger felt as if he was beginning to understand humans—or maybe becoming even more lost.

He heard the big human who visited the nest every day calling the small one “Yeon-ah.”

“Yeon-ah? Yeon-ah!”

Lying belly-down on the hill, he tried mimicking the call like the big human had done, but with a tiger’s mouth, it was impossible to make a proper sound. After jumping a few times and changing form, only then could he pronounce it properly: “Yeon-ah.” Amused by his own voice sounding human, the black tiger ran through the mountains at night, making strange noises.

A woman sneaking out for a late-night tryst spotted a naked boy dashing through the mountain path yelling, “Yeoonaaa!” and the village erupted in chaos. Whether it was a ghost or a deranged pervert became a hot debate, but only Yeon and the tiger, ignorant of human affairs, were unaware of the fuss.

Yeon-ah. That small human—strangely, he didn’t smell like the others. At first, the tiger thought maybe it was just because he was small, but even smaller humans reeked with a pungent stench.

Most humans did. But “Yeon-ah” smelled like a flower blooming beneath layers of snow. A snow blossom—an ice flower—meaning he had almost no scent. When mixed with other smells, it faded to nothing, and the tiger had to press his nose close to catch it.

For some reason, he waited. Waited for Yeon-ah, who refused to come out of his nest. Tigers only holed up like that when they were giving birth or wounded.

The last time he saw Yeon’s face, it had been bloodied and covered in dust. The tiger assumed he was recovering from deep wounds. After some thought, he crept back into the mountains.

The next time the black tiger wandered into the village’s edge, he had a pheasant in his mouth. Recovery meant eating well and resting. Since Yeon-ah hadn’t gone hunting, he must have been truly hurt. The tiger, thinking in his own way, dropped the pheasant at Yeon’s doorstep.

—Fool! Foolish Tigerrr!

Ja-oh shrieked non-stop and pecked at his head, and the black tiger swatted the noisy crow with his thick tail. Even after getting smacked, Ja-oh didn’t shut up, squawking that all humans should just die.

The black tiger knew too. That once the human raised that fire-spitting stick, he could be hurt. But he also remembered the greeting that came after the death of his mother, and the warm offering of boar innards held out to him.

With his tail, he nudged Ja-oh aside. Along with injury came a debt. That debt had to be paid. Only then could he eat the little human without any lingering thoughts. Ja-oh’s noise just muddied his mind.

Even afterward, the black tiger wandered near the village several more times but never saw Yeon again. Instead, he observed the humans loitering around Yeon without doing much of anything—and soon, even that lost its charm.

Just as boredom began to twitch his hindquarters, a pale, lifeless face poked out like the sun through heavy clouds. The black tiger trotted after that faint scent as if entranced. His thick paws left light prints on the soggy earth, surprisingly gentle for their size.

Maybe the human was fully healed now—he had started hunting rabbits in the mountains. The sharp, musky scent of rabbits began layering over Yeon-ah’s faint smell. The heavier the load on his back, the stronger the scent became, giving the tiger more confidence in tracking him.

Had he gotten too absorbed in the chase? Or was he just too excited? Breaking the distance he’d always kept, the small human perked up his ears and turned. Other humans didn’t react so quickly, but this one—called “Yeon-ah”—wasn’t quite human. More like a squirrel.

The black tiger crouched low, watching Yeon as he scanned the surroundings. When Yeon finally gave up and walked on, the tiger leapt like he was vaulting over a wall. He almost soared right over Yeon’s head. Ja-oh blinked at him, beak twitching in disbelief.

It was nothing, but he got overly excited. And in that excitement, the black tiger plunged right into the tiger net.

He thought he’d get out easily. Just a twist or two—but for some reason, the net wrapped around his whole body. It wasn’t his first time seeing a tiger net, but it was his first time getting caught in one.

And now, with the small human just steps away, he was tangled up in this flimsy thing, thrashing around—furious.

In the end, the black tiger couldn’t hold back his anger and let out a full-throated roar.

“Grrr!”

Yeon, startled, snapped back to his senses and bolted away. Even Ja-oh, who had been cackling mindlessly, seemed to realize it was no time for laughing when the tiger let out that bellow—he flapped his wings furiously, flying low in circles. The tiger was just about to yell at him to get down here and pull the net with that pathetic three-toed claw of his when—Yeon, who had run off, came back. He was standing still, staring at the tiger.

Is this it? The black tiger braced himself, wondering if the human had returned to point the fire-spitting rod at him. Snorting heavily, the tiger lifted his tangled body from the ground. His fur bristled. The net had coiled around him, squeezing like a snare and fraying his nerves, but he kept his focus on the small human’s movements.

Then, the small human stretched out his hands and began inching sideways—before suddenly embracing a tree trunk.

Suspicious of what trick this might be, the black tiger lowered his body and growled low. Yeon flinched, his shoulders trembling as he clutched the trunk. Why wasn’t he running? Why had he come back? The black tiger stared at him with eyes full of doubt.

After a long moment of watching, the tiger finally noticed the small human’s hands trembling as they fumbled with something. And then he saw it—a rope wound around the tree trunk. It was holding the end of the tiger net in place.

From the way the black tiger had thrashed and rolled, the knot had only tightened further, making it nearly impossible for Yeon to loosen it with his strength alone. After struggling for a while, Yeon pulled out a dagger. The moment he did, the black tiger, who had seen what that blade could do, let out another roar.

“Rrrhhng!”

None of this made sense to the black tiger. Nothing about the small human’s actions was logical—not now, not since the first day they met, when he’d spared the tiger and offered him boar entrails.

Humans fleeing in terror at the sight of him—that was familiar. In all his experience, humans reacted in only two ways: they either ran, or they raised the long rods like Yeon had when he killed his mother.

But Yeon’s actions now were neither of those. He was holding a rod, yes—but it was short. And more importantly, it wasn’t aimed at the tiger. It was aimed at the rope tied to the tree.

“I’m not trying to hurt you.”

As the tiger’s fur began to rise again, Yeon quickly spoke.

Not trying to hurt me?

If it had been any other human saying that, he’d have scoffed and pounced without a second thought. But Yeon—he already had two instances on record of not harming the tiger. The tiger, claws half-drawn, hesitated at his words.

“I-I’ll help you.”

With a voice trembling so badly it was barely coherent, Yeon began sawing at the rope with his dagger. The net was twisted so tightly that even the sharp blade couldn’t cut through it easily. He had to saw at it over and over like a sawyer.

Snap. Snap-snap.

With a few harsh snaps, the taut ropes began to give way, and the black tiger felt the net loosen around him. As soon as the last of the tension disappeared, he could shake it off by himself.

After pawing at it a few more times, the black tiger finally freed himself from the net. He looked over at the human, who was crouched down, gripping the tree trunk tightly with both hands.

Above them, the crows screeched noisily.

The black tiger squinted, thinking. From his perspective, it was a simple matter—but his yellow eyes, glowing faintly, the pupils drawn into long slits, made for a fearsome sight to a human like Yeon. His already pale face turned ghost-white.

The black tiger twitched his nose, sniffing Yeon’s scent. Just as he thought—this small human was odd. A faint smell brushed past his nose—something like water, like wind, like nothing at all. Unknowable. Unplaceable. The tiger blinked slowly, without meaning to.

Caw, caw.

Maybe if he kept watching, he’d figure out what this strange little human was up to. The tiger weighed his thoughts, but Ja-oh’s cry from above drew his gaze skyward. The sun was already halfway across the sky. Soon, the small human would return to the village.

Just this once.

Next time we meet… I’ll have you all figured out. And then I’ll eat you whole.

With his eyes narrowed, the black tiger made that vow to himself.

Then, leaving Yeon where he was, the black tiger leapt over the rock and disappeared into the deep forest.