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The witch arrived at dusk.
The sky was turning the deep violet color that came just before nightfall, when the last light of the sun clung stubbornly to the rooftops and the lanterns of the village had only just begun to flicker away. Smoke curled lazily from chimneys, and the scent of cooking stew drifted through the narrow streets.
Most witches came quietly.
They slipped through towns like shadows or fog, unseen and unannounced, doing their work and disappearing before dawn.
But Yudai was not that kind of witch.
He walked directly down the main road of the village as if he had every right to be there. A lantern swung loosely from his hand, its flame burning an unnatural shade of blue, casting long wavering shadows across the ground. Slung across his back was a crooked wooden sign that knocked softly against his shoulder with each step.
The villagers noticed immediately.
The sign read:
BLESSINGS DENIED. CURSES ONLY. ONE NIGHT.
Children were the first to follow.
They whispered to each other and pointed, trailing a few cautious steps behind the strange traveler with dark hair tied loosely behind his neck. Rings glimmered faintly on nearly every finger, etched with symbols that caught the lanternlight in strange ways.
Then the adults began to notice.
A farmer paused mid-step while leading a mule. A pair of women carrying baskets slowed their conversation. The blacksmith leaned out of his doorway.
By the time Yudai reached the town square, a crowd had quietly gathered.
He stopped beside the old stone well in the center of the square and leaned casually against it, as though he had been expected.
The innkeeper pushed through the crowd first, wiping his hands nervously on his apron.
“You’re… selling curses?”
Yudai lifted his eyebrow slightly and smiled lazily. “Not selling. Offering. You can have them for free.”
“That’s worse,” someone muttered from the crowd.
A woman folded her arms suspiciously. “Why would anyone want a curse?”
Yudai raised the lantern slightly, letting the strange blue flame illuminate his face.
“Because,” he said lightly, “sometimes a curse is kinder than a blessing.”
The villagers exchanged uneasy looks. No one stepped forward.
Not at first.
But as darkness settled over the village and candles began to glow in nearby windows, curiosity slowly began to outweigh fear.
A man eventually approached, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “My neighbor cheats at cards,” he said. “Can you curse his luck?”
Yudai shrugged. “Sure.”
The spell took only seconds. A flick of his fingers. A whisper of strange syllables.
The man left grinning.
Soon after, others came.
A woman wanted her cheating husband to lose his hair.
A teenage girl asked that her strict father lose his voice during lectures.
Another villager requested that his rival’s wine turn sour.
Small curses.
Petty curses.
The kind that caused inconvenience rather than tragedy. Yudai granted them all with casual ease, barely even needing to focus.
But beneath the humor and the theatrics, he could feel something lingering in the air.
Something heavier.
Someone else was coming.
Someone with a real request.
<><><><>
The bakery closed later than the other shops.
Even long after the butcher and the tailor had shuttered their windows, warm golden light still glowed behind the bakery’s front glass.
Inside, the air was thick with the comforting smell of bread and sugar. The ovens were cooling slowly, radiating the last of their warmth into the quiet room.
Flour dust floated lazily in the air like pale snow. Fuma stood behind the counter, brushing crumbs into a small pile with careful movements. He had heard about the witch hours ago.
Everyone had.
The villagers whispered about it constantly throughout the evening while buying bread or sweet buns. A witch granting curses.
For one night.
Fuma wiped his hands on a cloth that was already dusted white with flour. His fingers trembled slightly.
He knew exactly what he wanted.
And he hated himself for it.
After locking the bakery door, he stood outside for a long moment, staring down the street toward the distant glow of lanterns in the town square.
Then, finally, he began to walk.
By the time he reached the square, most of the crowd had dispersed. Only a few curious villagers lingered at the edges, watching cautiously from the shadows.
Yudai noticed him immediately.
The baker approached slowly, almost cautiously, as though the witch might vanish if he moved too quickly.
He stopped several feet away.
“I heard you're giving curses,” Fuma said softly.
Yudai studied him with quiet interest.
The baker looked ordinary at first glance. Simple clothes. Rolled sleeves. Flour still clinging stubbornly to his hands and wrists.
But his eyes—
His eyes looked like someone standing at the edge of a cliff.
“Yes,” Yudai said. “Just tonight.”
Fuma hesitated. Then he spoke. “I want someone to forget me.”
The few villagers nearby gasped softly. Yudai didn’t react. He only tilted his head.
“Who?”
“The man I love.”
The square fell completely silent.
<><><><>
Yudai lit a second candle. The flame flickered quietly beside the first, casting long shadows across the stone well.
“If I’m going to curse someone that important to you,” he said calmly, “I need the full story.”
Fuma sat across from him at the well’s edge, his hands clasped tightly together between his knees. The rough stone felt cold even through his clothes. “It’s simple.”
“It never is.”
Fuma looked down at his hands. “There’s someone,” he began. “His name is Euijoo.”
The name lingered in the air.
Yudai watched him carefully.
“We grew up together,” Fuma continued slowly. “He used to sneak into the bakery when we were kids and steal sweet buns.”
A faint smile touched his face.
“He always said they tasted better stolen.”
“And now?” Yudai asked.
The smile disappeared. “He’s getting married.”
“To someone he loves?”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly. “A nobleman,” Fuma said quietly. “Someone important.”
Ah. Now Yudai understood.
“Let me guess,” the witch said. “Your relationship isn’t exactly… acceptable.”
Fuma let out a quiet laugh that sounded painfully tired.
“If anyone found out about us, Euijoo’s future would be ruined.”
“So you want him to forget you.”
“Yes.”
Yudai tapped his fingers slowly against the stone well. “You know something interesting about memory curses?”
Fuma looked up.
“They rarely erase only one person,” Yudai said. “Memories tangle together. Pull one thread, and the whole tapestry shifts.”
“I don’t care.”
“You might lose every moment you shared.”
Fuma’s voice barely wavered.
“That’s the point.”
Yudai watched him in silence.
Something wasn’t right.
<><><><>
Night deepened around them. The remaining villagers drifted away one by one until the square was nearly empty, leaving only the quiet chirping of insects and the faint rustling of leaves.
But Yudai still didn’t begin the spell. Instead, he kept asking questions.
“Does Euijoo love you?”
Fuma hesitated. “Yes.”
“Then why did he agree to marry someone else?”
“He didn’t have a choice.”
“People always say that,” Yudai replied.
Fuma’s jaw tightened slightly. “It’s different.”
Yudai leaned forward. “You’re hiding something.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Silence stretched between them. The witch’s eyes gleamed in the candlelight.
“Tell me,” Yudai said softly, “did Euijoo ask you to do this?”
Fuma froze.
That was all the answer Yudai needed.
<><><><>
“He doesn’t know I’m here.” Fuma’s voice was barely audible.
Yudai sighed. “I thought so.”
“He would never agree to it.”
“Of course he wouldn’t.”
Fuma looked up sharply. “You don’t understand.”
“Try me.”
Fuma’s hands clenched tightly together. “If he remembers me… he’ll hesitate.”
“Hesitate to marry someone he doesn’t love?”
“Yes.”
“And that’s bad?”
“Yes!”
The word echoed across the quiet square. Fuma lowered his voice again. “He deserves a life that isn’t ruined by me.”
Yudai studied him carefully. “You’re not telling the whole truth.”
Fuma looked away. “I am.”
“No,” Yudai said quietly. “You’re protecting him.”
“And?”
“But you’re also protecting yourself.”
Fuma’s head snapped back. “What?”
“You’re afraid,” Yudai continued, “that if he remembers you… he might choose you.”
Fuma’s face went pale.
<><><><>
The church bell rang once. Midnight.
The witch stood. “Time’s up.”
Fuma rose slowly. “So you’ll do it?”
Yudai looked at him carefully. “I could.”
The wind shifted. The candle flames flickered.
“But I won’t.”
Fuma stared.
“What?”
Yudai crossed his arms. “You don’t need a curse.”
“Yes I do.”
“No,” Yudai said. “You need courage.”
Fuma laughed bitterly. “You don’t know anything about our situation.”
“I know enough.”
The witch leaned closer. “If Euijoo marries someone else tomorrow,” he said quietly, “it should be because he chose that life.”
Not because someone erased the choice.
Fuma’s hands trembled.
“You’re refusing?”
Yudai blew out the candles.
“Yes.”
<><><><>
Silence swallowed the square.
The darkness seemed deeper now that the candles were gone, leaving only the dim lanternlight from Yudai’s hand. Fuma stared at the thin ribbon of smoke rising from the extinguished wick.
“So that’s it?” he whispered. “You just send me home?”
Yudai tilted his head. “Home?”
“Yes.”
“To sleep?” the witch asked.
Fuma didn’t answer.
Yudai sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. “You’re unbelievable.”
“What?”
“You came all this way to erase yourself,” Yudai said, pointing at him, “but you won’t walk across town and tell the man you love the truth?”
“It wouldn’t change anything.”
“Wouldn’t it?”
“Yes!”
“Did he say that?” Yudai asked.
Fuma faltered. “…No.”
“Then you’re not protecting Euijoo,” the witch said sharply. “You’re protecting yourself from being rejected.”
The words struck like a slap. Fuma looked away. “That’s not fair.”
“Fair?” Yudai scoffed. “You’re asking me to rewrite someone’s memories, and you want to talk about fair?”
Fuma clenched his fists.
“What am I supposed to do? Ruin his wedding?”
Yudai shrugged. “Seems like a start.”
Fuma stared at him in disbelief. “You’re insane.”
“I’m a witch,” Yudai corrected. “Close enough.”
The wind rustled softly through the empty square. Then Yudai leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Tell me something, baker.”
Fuma looked up reluctantly.
“If Euijoo walks down that aisle tomorrow,” Yudai asked, “will you regret staying silent?”
Fuma didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.
Yudai nodded once. “Thought so.”
<><><><>
Morning arrived bright and impossibly cheerful. The village church had been transformed overnight. White ribbons hung from the wooden doors. Fresh flowers lined the windows and filled the air with a sweet scent that drifted down the road. Villagers gathered in their finest clothes, whispering excitedly.
A nobleman’s wedding was rare here.
Inside, Euijoo stood near the altar. He looked perfect.
Elegant robes draped neatly across his shoulders. His hair had been styled carefully for the ceremony.
Guests approached him with warm smiles and congratulations. He returned each one with polite grace. But the smile never quite reached his eyes.
Across the church, the nobleman spoke with the priest, confident and composed, completely certain of the future unfolding before him.
Everything was ready.
Outside, bells began to ring. The ceremony was about to begin.
<><><><>
Fuma arrived breathless. He had run the entire way.
The church doors loomed ahead of him like the gates of a different life.
He stopped at the bottom of the steps. His heart pounded painfully in his chest.
This was madness. He should turn around. He should go back to the bakery. Pretend none of this had happened.
Behind him, a voice spoke calmly. “If you run away now,” Yudai said, “I’m turning you into a frog.”
Fuma spun around. “You followed me?”
Yudai leaned against a tree nearby, arms crossed casually. “I didn’t trust you not to chicken out.”
“I’m not—”
“You’re absolutely chickening out.”
Fuma glared at him. “This isn’t your life!”
“No,” Yudai said. “But you asked for my help.”
“You refused!”
“I refused the curse,” Yudai corrected. “Not the problem.” He jerked his chin toward the church. “Go.”
Fuma stared at the doors. “I can’t.”
Yudai pushed off the tree. “Fine.”
Before Fuma could react, the witch grabbed his collar and shoved him halfway up the steps.
“HEY—”
“Confess,” Yudai said flatly.
“I can’t just interrupt a wedding!”
Yudai looked at him like he’d said something ridiculous. “That’s literally the best time to interrupt.”
Inside, the organ music started. Fuma froze.
“Oh no.”
Yudai smirked.
“Oh yes.”
The witch pushed the church doors open.
<><><><>
The music stopped. Every head in the church turned.
Fuma stood frozen in the doorway. Sunlight streamed in behind him like a spotlight, casting his shadow down the aisle. He looked like a man who had absolutely no idea what he was doing. Which was accurate.
“Fuma?”
Euijoo’s voice broke the stunned silence.
The entire church gasped. The baker swallowed hard. This was it. He had imagined this moment a thousand times. But now that it was real— His mind was completely blank.
Yudai’s voice drifted from behind him. “Say something.”
Fuma took a shaky step forward. “I—”
The nobleman frowned. “Who is this?”
Fuma ignored him. His eyes were locked on Euijoo.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Euijoo blinked. “For what?”
“For being a coward.”
Murmurs rippled through the guests.
Fuma’s voice shook. “I almost asked a witch to erase me from your memory last night.”
That got everyone’s attention. Euijoo stared at him. “You what?”
“I thought it would make things easier,” Fuma said quietly. “But the truth is…”
He laughed nervously. “I’m terrible at letting you go.”
The nobleman stepped forward. “This is highly inappropriate—”
“I love you,” Fuma said.
The words echoed through the church. Silence fell like a dropped curtain. Fuma’s hands trembled.
“I always have,” he continued. “And I know this wedding is important and your future matters and I probably just ruined everything—”
“Fuma.” Euijoo’s voice stopped him.
The younger walked slowly down the aisle. His expression was unreadable.
Fuma braced himself for anger. For rejection. For humiliation. Instead— Euijoo smiled.
“You idiot,” he said softly.
Fuma blinked. “What?”
Euijoo took his hands. “You should’ve told me sooner.”
<><><><>
Outside the church, Yudai leaned comfortably against the wall.
He listened to the chaos inside with mild amusement. Shouting. Gasps. One very offended nobleman. Then— Laughter.
Yudai grinned.
A few minutes later, the church doors burst open. Fuma stumbled out first. Euijoo followed, grabbing his sleeve and laughing breathlessly. The nobleman stormed out behind them, furious, shouting something about scandal and disgrace.
Yudai tipped an imaginary hat.
“Congratulations,” he said.
Fuma looked dazed. “I think we just destroyed that man’s reputation.”
Euijoo squeezed his hand. “Worth it.”
Yudai shrugged. “Honestly? Pretty average outcome for my curses.”
“But you didn’t cast one,” Fuma said.
The witch smiled. “Didn’t I?”
He turned and began walking down the road.
“Wait,” Euijoo called. “What was the curse?”
Yudai glanced over his shoulder.
“Oh, that one’s simple.”
The wind lifted his cloak as he disappeared down the path. “You’re cursed to be honest with each other from now on.” He waved lazily.
“Good luck with that.”
And by the time the two of them looked back down the road—
The witch was already gone.