I Just Want a Home

“I didn’t want this either… but I had no other choice.”

“I shouldn’t have… I—I shouldn’t have gone to such a dangerous place? Is that what you think?”

“Say… say something…”

Utoya’s silence along the way only made Irene more nervous.

This clumsy hunter, when she doesn’t speak, feels just like a war god—it really makes her scared.

She’s angry?

…So what if she’s angry.

Irene gets angry too. Who doesn’t?

Irene lay quietly in her arms, gritting her teeth, trying to look angry.

But she really had no reason to be angry.

This might be the first person who would actually come to find her if something happened.

How could she possibly stay angry at someone like that…

Then… then what should she do…

Her small head spun quickly, trying to think of a plan.

Maybe… maybe…

Bang.

The sound of a wooden door being pushed open violently.

Utoya was fast at finding the way back—within only a few dozen minutes, she had already returned to the cabin.

Her face was dark, and she kicked the cart into the corner, gripping the chain so tightly that Irene had trouble breathing.

As expected… she really is angry…

“I didn’t want to go either, but I had no money… my sister still needs it, and so do I…”

“F-forget it, just… just hit me…”

Irene mustered her courage to explain a lot, but when she saw Utoya’s pitch-black expression, she swallowed the rest of her words.

In the end, all those thousands of words became nothing but a helpless sigh.

Just like everyone else toward her… beat her, curse her, and it’ll all be over.

“Shut up.”

Utoya’s hoarse voice came, her clenched fist faintly red, raised high—

So she really was going to hit her.

Hopefully not too…

Painful…

…

It was a caress.

A gentle stroke.

“I am angry. But not at you, Irene.”

“You’re a scavenger. Other than doing this, there’s no way you could ever repay the debt. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to you. It’s just that I don’t know what to say… to keep from hurting you.”

“Every time I watch you throw yourself into danger, not even for yourself, but for others… I feel sad. And jealous.”

Utoya’s voice was hoarse and unusually tender.

Irene carefully opened her eyes, finally seeing her clearly.

Her hunter’s outfit was covered in fresh dirt and dark stains, thorns still clinging to her pant legs.

Her sturdy boots were badly worn at the edges, caked with mud—clear evidence of a long, grueling trek.

Her lips were cracked, dark shadows under her eyes from lack of sleep, her whole being carved with wind and frost.

She had been searching for Irene the entire day, maybe longer—not waiting comfortably at home, but plunging deep into this perilous radiation zone, tirelessly looking again and again.

That persistence carried far more weight than the cold threat she had once said: “I will find you.”

A sharp, unspeakable sting rushed to Irene’s nose, and her eyes instantly burned.

Not because of fear.

Not because of grievance.

But because of a deeper, sharper pain—self-loathing.

“I…”

Irene opened her mouth, but her throat felt blocked.

She wanted to say I’m sorry. She wanted to say thank you.

But both words felt pale and powerless in this moment.

Utoya’s rough fingers kept stroking her hair, the coarse touch strangely soothing, yet like countless tiny needles piercing her heart.

Her words were a mirror, reflecting Irene’s most unbearable self.

“I don’t know what to say without hurting you…”

Utoya was clumsily trying not to hurt her.

And Irene?

When Utoya awkwardly tried to care for her, she only felt it ridiculous and troublesome.

When Utoya decided to stay, offering her daylight freedom, Irene secretly thought of exploiting her loneliness and “twisted affection.”

When Utoya gave her maps and a gun, telling her to return before sunset, Irene only felt cold restraint.

Irene was always like this.

Always imagining the worst intentions in everyone around her.

Toward the orphans, she stayed distant, assuming they might betray her for profit at any time.

Toward the shop owner’s kindness, she dismissed it as the meaningless charity of someone “well-off.”

Even toward Sydney’s gratitude and closeness, she weighed it against scavenger logic.

At some point, Irene had turned herself into a stray cat with fur always bristling, baring her teeth at everyone, assuming the world was nothing but hostile traps.

This deeply ingrained defense mechanism allowed her to survive in a cruel society, but it also wrapped her in a thick cocoon, cutting her off from warmth and connection.

Irene hated this about herself.

She hated that soaking in darkness too long had made her doubt the light.

She hated her rejection of all love.

No matter what Utoya’s intentions were, she had helped her far, far too much…

Irene’s body trembled—not from cold, but from the storm of self-disgust raging inside.

She suddenly lowered her head, burying her face into Utoya’s dirt- and gunpowder-stained chest, letting out a suppressed, wounded-animal whimper.

Her hands clutched the fabric of Utoya’s clothes so tightly her nails nearly sank in.

“Why do I even have to live…”

Her voice shook with sobs.

Why?

Why should she, like a vampire, fear the sun and warmth?

Why sink into cold malice, when at last there was someone who cared, who protected her?

She had a sister. She had a life. She had work.

No matter how painful, she had to live on—even without love or comfort.

And now, for the first time, Irene felt something like it—this strange, twisted, but undeniable love.

Like family. Like romance.

And it was for her.

It was too beautiful. Too much…

Utoya looked down at the little cat suddenly breaking down in her arms, somewhat at a loss.

She didn’t know why Irene had collapsed, but she understood a little.

The world outside was too cruel—it was too much for a little cat to carry everything alone.

And she herself had even chained her.

Was that too much…?

Biting her lip, Utoya slowly reached toward Irene’s pale neck, wanting to undo the collar.

But this time, Irene seized her hand, forcing it away—

“Don’t undo it… okay?”

“Hold me… even if it’s fake… even if it’s… for some other reason…”

“I just want… to feel it once… the warmth of family…”