The witch and the poisonous apple

The witch's dwelling is hidden deep in the forest, its location unknown. When he arrived, at last, what greeted him was the miserable sight of the witch's hut. It was in such a great shamble, Harij thought a strong wind would instantly blow everything away.

Inside, the room wasn't only dark, but also contained mountains of trashes—he thought he would drown.

The witch always wore a big, shady robe, and sent Harij away with a haughty tone. Not to mention, her tasks were questionable.

As time passed, his suspicion of the witch didn't disappear. They only increased. For Harij, who lived his life in fairness, the witch's entity was shrouded in darkness.

The sight of the witch resurfacing from the lake greatly surprised him.

He thought it was a fairy living in the lake. The sight was too surreal.

She was bathed in sunlight. Her white skin was as beautiful as snow—such that it would make those noble ladies who wore white powder in the court envious.

Try as he might, Harij couldn't tear his gaze off from Roze, whose pale crimson hair lighted up, as if sparkling.

He thought the witch was an old woman. Turned out, it was a young woman. He never expected that.

Even more than that—a lady this young, living alone? He found such a thing hard to believe.

By the time Harij put two and two together and realized it wasn't a fairy but the Witch—she noticed his presence.

Her dark green eyes, which usually stayed hidden beneath the shadow of her hood, widened. Harij found them pleasing to his eyes.

He truly regretted that he didn't pry his eyes away at that moment. He was too stunned at the sight, and the cost for it—the usually very composed Witch was extremely threatened, to the point she almost took her own life.

Nevertheless, thanks to that, Harij learned a lot.

That the Witch's age is strangely young.

That Witches are unable to lie, no matter the circumstance.

All those haughty, merciless tasks from her weren't to get rid of him, but truly necessary for the potion.

He though all this time that she was ripping him off—turns out she can't even afford a single cloth just to cover the expenses of materials.

That the Witch sometimes doesn't know what to do; that the Witch has a bashful side to her…

—and that she likes Apple Butter very much…

"…Does Ms. Witch live alone?"

When he bought the freshly baked bread from the city, it was actually because he was scared the Witch would die from starvation before finishing the potion…

She isn't on the brink of death, of course. But when Harij sees the apple-colored plump cheeks of the Witch, stuffed with bread—he's glad of the decision he made, nonetheless. It was the right call.

Her present, cheerful appearance frees Harij of his worries. However, he remembers her depressed, small figure curling into a ball, and fear grips him. She might die if he left her.

He's relieved she likes the breads he bought in a rush.

The Witch, who's currently licking the Apple Butter from her fingers, stares at Harij.

"Eh? Yes, I live alone."

"Isn't that too risky?"

A young woman living alone… it's too dangerous, no matter how much he thinks about it. At least those who sneak into the shady hut would be thrown off if they saw the owner is an old woman. But it's another story when the witch who lives here is pretty…

The Witch blinks.

"Why do you ask me that?"

Harij cleverly keeps his silent. He doesn't want to assume her age just yet.

"Uhm… you see, when someone arrives at the shore, I'll know immediately. This place is well-hidden, and not many comes to visit. I don't have many customers, either. If someone is suspicious-looking, I'll hide under the floor right away."

From the way she said it, it seems that the Witch has experienced it several times. Imagining the Witch waiting, while shivering, beneath the floor boards—Harij feels terribly concerned.

"All this time, you've been living like that?"

"Yes—all this time." The Witch answers, without pause.

As if it's only natural. As if it's only natural to live alone like that, and protect oneself like that—

—Harij feels very disconcerted towards that, but can't find any words to say.

That's just not right.

A young lady deserves to be protected, no matter what. He's accustomed to girls being taken care by their parents—or guardians, at the very least. They'll receive formal education, and later, be married.

'Women should be protected.'—Harij has been brought up to believe so.

Yet, even if he thought so, does he have a say? What right does he have, as someone who isn't responsible nor involved in her life?

The only thing he can do—

Harij glazes the second bread with Apple Butter, and again, offers it to the Witch.

This time, he applies more jam than the first one.