Chapter 5 - A Touch of Radiance
Muyeol found himself in a room that felt like an inferno, the stifling heat suffocating him. His eyes flew open, and the parched agony in his throat begged for water. Restlessly, he tossed and turned, the fever raging within him, and dizziness taking hold.
Yet, there was no one to come to his aid. The moment Mr. Cha had returned and discovered Jaeho writhing on the floor with Muyeol atop him, he had seized Muyeol by the nape of his neck and thrust him into the basement, which resembled a grim jail cell. In ordinary circumstances, it might not have been so bad, but the present situation was far from ordinary.
The fever that plagued Muyeol was an enigma, its origin unknown.
Madam Choi had spared no effort, subjecting him to every conceivable medical test, but no doctor could offer a definitive diagnosis. Eventually, they had concluded it was not a physical ailment but a manifestation of some underlying psychological issue. Muyeol couldn't help but recall the conversation he'd had with Madam Choi on the matter.
"You're bottling up too much, my dear. Please, trust Granny. Let's explore different treatments," Madam Choi had implored, genuine concern etched on her face.
"I'm perfectly fine," Muyeol had stubbornly insisted. He had never wanted to admit that something was amiss with him. He had lived by relying on painkillers, desperate to conceal his condition. His relentless use of medication had rendered him immune to their effects, leaving him with no recourse but to wait for the fever to ebb.
"Muyeol, please reconsider. Don't be so resistant," Madam Choi had beseeched.
"So, you want me to acknowledge that I have a psychological problem?"
"You know I don't mean it that way."
"No, Granny. That man," Muyeol had lowered his voice, referring to his father, "won't see it as you do. If I heed your advice and set foot inside a mental hospital, I'll be branded as mentally ill. Don't you understand, Granny?"
Hearing a child refer to his own father as a stranger had filled Madam Choi with profound sadness. She had remained silent for a while, tears welling up in her eyes. Eventually, she had spoken, her voice choked with emotion. "But I don't want you to be unwell, Muyeol. You're only thirteen years old. You have a lifetime ahead of you, filled with many good days..."
"Do you truly believe that, Granny? What even constitutes a good day?" Muyeol had inquired, prompting Madam Choi to break into sobs. To hear a child question the very concept of a good day...
Back in the present, Muyeol's consciousness returned to the basement. After several failed attempts, he managed to prop himself against a wall. A dizzying wave swept over him, and he let out a weary sigh. His head felt as heavy as lead, as though it might plummet to the floor without support. The thought of death briefly crossed his mind, and for a moment, he didn't resist the notion.
"Pftt," Muyeol couldn't help but smirk cynically. "No way. That would be too unjust. Die for what?"
"Damn it… fuck…" he muttered under his breath, a string of curses escaping his lips.
His birthday tradition had become the dreaded paternity test. After her divorce, Madam Kang had never looked back, never attempted to play the role of a mother. Madam Choi, the sole remaining figure to deal with the monstrous Mr. Cha, lacked the influence to change anything. The castle's ruler was a monster, and Muyeol felt powerless in his presence.
Waves of exhaustion crashed over him like a tsunami, and the fever intensified, causing his head to throb as if it were being squeezed by an oppressive golden crown.
He clutched his head in an attempt to alleviate the pain. Waiting for it to subside seemed futile, as the pain only grew more unbearable. Nevertheless, Muyeol forced himself to endure, ultimately biting down on his lips so forcefully that blood filled his mouth.
Ah, this is the worst, he thought bitterly.
He longed for someone to reassure him that it was alright to surrender, that enduring these trials was not mandatory, especially since he was just thirteen years old. In that moment, he would have willingly sacrificed his dignity and bowed before Mr. Cha, pretending as though the man hadn't ruined his life.
But he quickly dismissed the idea. It would be a nightmare. He didn't even want to call Mr. Cha his father. The attention he garnered during these repetitive paternity tests was something he detested.
Muyeol was acutely aware of their thoughts. Their eyes would silently accuse him, saying, "That son of a bitch, he's back again. Why does he continue to live like this?"
"Why do I live like this? Because I'm just a child. I was a child last year, and I'm still a child this year. I have no power to change anything," Muyeol silently retorted in his own mind.
His body trembled as the fever's chills began to take hold. His throat felt parched, as though he had traversed a desert. For some reason, he started reminiscing about Shitty Yoon's candies, the ones that were sickeningly sweet. It had taken him a whole month to finish the candies he had collected on White Day.
He drooled, the memory of the sweet candies lingering on his taste buds, melting instantly in his mouth. The saliva moistened his parched throat, briefly offering relief. But then, an insatiable thirst assaulted him.
"Water... Water..." Muyeol croaked.
He yearned to move, to cry out, to scream for water.
"Water..."
Suddenly, his ears perked up to a faint gurgling sound. Muyeol turned in its direction. There was water here somewhere. But it had to be a hallucination; there was no way a stream of water could flow into this wretched basement. Yet, the gurgle persisted, and as he focused on the sound, his fever slowly began to subside.
With a deep breath and closed eyes, Muyeol concentrated. The burbling continued, and somehow, water trickled into the basement through an invisible source, dampening his feet. The water level gradually rose to his calves, cooling his feverish body. Unconsciously, a smile graced his lips.
The water now reached his chest, filling the entire basement. Muyeol opened his eyes and felt as though he were submerged in an underwater world. It was like floating in the depths of the ocean beneath a starless night sky, a realm devoid of color and light. It was a vivid dream.
Muyeol curled into a ball. Though it was but a dream, it provided him immense solace. The ocean cradled his fever-ridden body perfectly, offering a soothing respite. He closed his eyes and surrendered to it.
The next time he opened his eyes, he was in a hospital room, with Madam Choi seated by his side. From that day forward, Muyeol began to live with her.
***
"Are you okay?" Yiyoung asked Muyeol with concern.
Muyeol hadn't attended school for the past week, and rumors of his severe illness had reached Yiyoung. Looking at his gaunt face, it seemed the rumors were true.
Muyeol remained silent, focusing on getting ready for the next class. However, Yiyoung took out a bottle of orange juice and placed it on his desk. Muyeol stared at her in response.
"Drink it. Whenever I'm sick, I have orange juice, and it always makes me feel better," she explained.
Muyeol found it utterly ridiculous. Yiyoung had a habit of meddling in everyone's affairs, and all she seemed to offer were simple gestures like this one. He shifted uncomfortably, eyeing the bottle.
Meanwhile, Yiyoung retrieved her notes. "Here, these are my notes. You can borrow them to copy."
Yiyoung's intelligence was no exaggeration. Despite her perpetual smile, she consistently achieved the highest scores in their class. But Muyeol had no interest in that.
"No need. I can manage on my own," Muyeol finally replied.
Rather than being disappointed by his rejection, Yiyoung giggled. "Oh, look at you! You're still so mean. I read in a book that a serious illness can sometimes change a person's personality, but I guess that didn't happen with you."
Muyeol dismissed her words as nonsense and chose to ignore her. However, Yiyoung didn't stop at just offering her notes. She accompanied him when they had to move to different classrooms, spoke to their PE teacher on his behalf, and provided assistance in various ways. Muyeol couldn't be bothered to engage with her, so he allowed her to continue, and Yiyoung busied herself by taking care of him.
In the end, Muyeol even drank the orange juice she had offered. He had thought that doing so might make Yiyoung stop bothering him, but he immediately regretted the thought when he noticed her beaming at him the moment he took a sip.
"What's with that smile?" Muyeol questioned, utterly perplexed.
He couldn't fathom her intentions at all. She was being kind to him for no apparent reason, leading him to wonder if she was secretly scheming something.
"Why are you smiling?" Muyeol asked, seeking an explanation.
"Just because," Yiyoung replied with a casual shrug.
There was no specific reason for her to smile like that, and Muyeol found himself unable to look away from her. Her smile radiated warmth, much like the sun.
A few days later, Muyeol headed to meet Madam Kang, as was their usual arrangement. Typically, they would go to a Korean restaurant, but this time, Madam Kang had decided on an Italian restaurant.
"I'm sorry, but Mom suddenly had a craving for pasta from an Italian restaurant. You're fine with that, right?" his mother had explained.
"Do as you please. I don't mind," Muyeol had replied tersely.
"You're always so curt."
His parents had divorced when he was very young, depriving him of the opportunity to experience a normal childhood. Due to this, Muyeol couldn't bring himself to be warm or friendly towards Madam Kang.
He arrived at the restaurant she had mentioned, but she still hadn't appeared. Muyeol leaned back in his chair, growing increasingly impatient. His mother was never punctual for these meetings, likely because she regarded them as more of an obligation than a desire to spend time with Muyeol.
It occurred to Muyeol that perhaps Madam Kang didn't love her son any more than she loved her husband. After all, she had essentially left him in the care of a nanny. Even after their divorce, he did meet her from time to time, but he never received any affection from her.
One day, he had asked her a question. "Why don't you ever hug me?"
"I fulfilled my duty by giving birth to you," had been her response.
And, indeed, it was accurate. Maybe Madam Kang had foreseen the future because before marrying Mr. Cha, she had insisted on receiving a share of the company's stock in the event she bore a son. She had known Mr. Cha desired a male heir to inherit the business.
It had proven to be a shrewd move on her part. No one had warned her about the true nature of Mr. Cha. She had nearly been left with nothing, but giving birth to Muyeol secured her a portion of S Corp's stock, often referred to as enduring wealth. Her family's business couldn't hold a candle to S Corp, but it was prosperous in its own right, and the stock she received after Muyeol's birth had only added to her wealth.
Muyeol stared out of the window while he continued to wait for Madam Kang. Their meetings occurred only once a month, yet he found himself waiting like this each time. Given the nature of their relationship, there weren't many topics to discuss, but the absence of their monthly interaction left him with a sense of melancholy.
After what felt like an eternity, Madam Kang finally arrived. Her face glowed as if kissed by the sun. However, the radiant sight reminded Muyeol of Yiyoung's smile, and, inexplicably, he felt his heart flutter against his will.
"Hi, Muyeol. Sorry for keeping you waiting," Madam Kang greeted with a warm smile as she took her seat.
Muyeol, caught in a strange emotion, couldn't muster a response. He was too busy studying her face. It made him happy, but at the same time, there was a lump in his throat.
What kind of feeling is this? Muyeol wondered.
The sensation resembled the tender warmth that Yiyoung's smile had filled him with, but there was something distinct about it.
Muyeol continued to fix his gaze on Madam Kang.
What is it that's making me so sad?
Madam Kang busied herself with the menu, seemingly unaware of the scrutiny. "What should we have? They have a wonderful pasta dish with spring parsley. Would you like that?" she inquired.
It seemed like she had already made up her mind, so Muyeol simply nodded.
Madam Kang signaled for the waiter and cheerfully placed their order. "Today, we'll have the spring parsley pasta and..."
From the way she spoke, it was evident that she frequented this place regularly. Muyeol took a moment to observe the restaurant's interior. It was a charming establishment, but it didn't quite match Madam Kang's usual preference for more upscale venues.
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