"Hee-Jun, would you play outside with your brother while we talk to your dad's friend?" The words echoed in Yeon-Jun's mind, surfacing like a distant dream, blurring the lines between remembrance and imagination. As he hung onto the fragments of a childhood memory, he could almost feel the warmth of the sun on his skin and the playful laughter that once filled the air. "Okay!" Hee-Jun chirped, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he clasped his elder brother's hand and bounded out the door. The moment they stepped outside, a cacophony of raised voices drifted from within the house, heavy with tension.
"Hyung, are Dad and his friend fighting?" Hee-Jun queried, sensing the unease on his brother's face, which was etched with concern. His brother hesitated, wrestling with the urge to protect Hee-Jun from whatever turmoil brewed inside. "Hyung, I'm hungry," Hee-Jun whined, his stomach rumbling in protest. The sky had grown overcast, thick with dark clouds, and his elder brother could see the telltale signs of an impending storm looming on the horizon. Unable to bear the sight of Hee-Jun's worry, he took a deep breath. "Wait under the tree, okay? I'll come back after I grab some snacks," he replied, casting one last worried glance toward the house before ushering Hee-Jun to shelter behind the large tree that dominated their front yard. As he closed the gate, a sense of foreboding settled in the air.
"Mr. Police Sir," the elder brother called out, tugging at the sleeve of a police officer seated at a nearby picnic table, relishing a moment of respite with a sandwich in hand. The officer glanced down, taken aback by the earnestness in the boy's voice. "A man came to our house, and he's been arguing with my Dad," the boy exclaimed, his voice trembling.
"Does your father know him?" the officer inquired, scrutinizing the child's face for signs of exaggeration. The boy nodded vigorously, his expression darkening. "Then it's probably a personal matter between your father and him," the officer replied, attempting to assuage the child's fears with a reassuring smile. But the boy fell silent, and his wide eyes conveyed a deeper concern.
"Wait... when he came in, I saw him holding a gun," Hee-Jun's brother blurted out, his voice barely above a whisper. "He tucked it into his pants and put his shirt over it…" The officer's demeanor shifted instantly; he dropped his food, the sandwich falling from his grasp as adrenaline surged through him. Without a moment's hesitation, he radioed for backup. Grabbing the child's hand, he sprinted toward the house. While it was unusual for an officer to react so intensely to a child's claim, the officer recalled a recent report about a gang member who had shot someone over a financial dispute. That memory propelled him forward, his instincts screaming that this scenario could very well mirror that chilling incident.
Hee-Jun kicked at the crisp autumn leaves scattered across the ground, the foliage crackling underfoot as he contemplated, "When is he coming back?" A sudden clap of thunder pierced the air, causing him to jump, his heart racing. He dropped to the ground instinctively, covering his ears to shield himself from the noise. In that moment of disorientation, he failed to notice the commotion unfolding inside the house.
As the thunder subsided, he tentatively lowered his hands and glanced towards the house, just in time to see his father's friend hastily exiting. A smirk played on the man's lips, a sight that unsettled Hee-Jun for reasons he couldn't quite articulate. Confused but driven by an urge to seek comfort, he darted inside, the door gaping wide as if inviting him in.
Once inside, the savory aroma of simmering soup wafted through the kitchen, filling his senses and igniting his hunger. Without a second thought, Hee-Jun rushed toward the bubbling pot, mesmerized by the steam rising like a warm embrace. In his haste, however, he knocked the pot, and hot soup splashed across his skin, instantly searing his leg. A sharp cry escaped his lips, panic overtaking him as he stumbled backward, desperately trying to distance himself from the scalding liquid.
Amidst the chaos, he barely registered the flames that licked hungrily at the edges of the stove, flickering dangerously amid the storm that raged outside. The heavy rain battered against the windows, a stark contrast to the inferno brewing within. But his gaze was drawn fixedly to the immaculate white carpet, now tragically tainted crimson. Horror washed over him as he realized the still forms of his parents lay sprawled on the floor, silent and lifeless.
With sheer will, he forced his aching legs to move, the pain from his burns all but forgotten as he approached them, calling out in desperation. "Mom! Dad!" His voice echoed through the thickening smoke, but there was no response, only the oppressive silence that enveloped the room. Anxiety turned to dread as his frantic cries went unanswered, his pleas absorbed by the suffocating air filled with ash.
Frantic and overwhelmed, Hee-Jun's screams crescendoed until his voice cracked, completely giving out, making Hee-Jun lay unconscious on his mother's dead body, his lungs now filled with the smoke that arose from the fire, causing him to cough himself to a different reality as he realized that what his Dad always told him was away when they learned about death, was near, now more than ever. The last thing Hee-Jun heard was his elder brother's desperate cry. He responded, but with an answer that could never be heard, a slight whisper that the air around him registered, but it couldn't reach his own ears. "Hae-Seong..."
"I saw him heading down the other trail," the man recounted, his voice a gravelly whisper that was laced with exhaustion, as rainwater streamed from his hair and soaked through the fabric of his clothing, leaving him shivering in the chill of the tempest. "At first I ignored it, but when the sky darkened, I remembered the warning sign and hurried back to find him." His gaze was steady yet haunted. "I discovered him unconscious, lying under a tree, and brought him here," he continued, his breath hitching slightly as he stripped off his drenched coat, carefully retrieving his phone and watch with trembling hands. He handed the devices to one of the forest rangers, who nodded in appreciation as he scurried off to find a spot to dry them out. The ranger, recognizing the urgency of the situation, offered a change of clothes and access to a hot shower, assuring him that they would ensure everything was taken care of until the storm eased.
"I changed his clothes and monitored his body temperature closely," one ranger reported to his supervisor, glancing down at Yeon-Jun, who lay unconscious on a cot, wrapped in warm blankets. "His phone is locked, but thankfully, it's still functioning. I've managed to retrieve his ID, but with the communication lines down, reaching his family may prove difficult."
After drying himself out and changing, the man approached the supervisor, extending a still-damp business card towards him. "Here is my contact information," he said, his damp fingers guiding the card with precision, his name and title clearly embossed on its surface for easy reading. "Mine and my secretary's contact information is on here. You can contact me if you have difficulty finding his guardian. I'm here to assist in any way possible."
"You've already been an immense help," the supervisor replied, struggling to make out the name on the card as he handed it to a ranger for clarity. "You've essentially taken on the role of a rescuer today; it would feel inappropriate for us to demand any more of your assistance, Mr..." He paused, glancing back at the card, "Mr. Woo-San Kim." The ranger grasped his hand firmly, conveying gratitude through his grip. "Rest assured, we will ensure this young man gets home safely, and we will reach out to you as soon as we can. You need not worry. It weighs on us that you're not allowing us to compensate you for your kindness."
Woo-San returned the shake with a warm, sincere smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling in understanding. "There's no need for any compensation. Neither you nor he could have foreseen the sudden change in weather; it was simply a tragic accident. There's no reason to blame anyone." The two men exchanged a nod of mutual respect and understanding as Woo-San turned to leave the cabin, and a ranger followed him to see him out.
"Excuseme..." Yeon-Jun called out softly, bracing himself as he sat upright in the dimly lit room. The moonlight spilling through the window cast long shadows, and the ranger slumped over his desk, was deeply lost in slumber. Yeon-Jun's voice barely pierced the stillness, a mere whisper in the night. Cradling his throbbing head in one hand, he squinted in the darkness, scanning the small area around him for his belongings. His eyes landed on a bag perched precariously near his pillow, and relief washed over him as he recognized the familiar shape of his phone and wallet inside.
With trembling fingers, he fished the phone from the bag and stared at the screen, grateful to discover that it was only the next night. He breathed a sigh of relief, knowing he could explain away his absence by saying he was too exhausted to travel and opted to stay an extra day. The fact that he hadn't answered any calls was easily justifiable; he could claim he had been asleep. Yet, as Yeon-Jun pondered the conversation he would have with Sung-Hoon, his thoughts were abruptly interrupted. The moment he tapped his screen, a flood of blurring memories surged through his mind—scattered images from the dream he had just escaped, fragments of memories he had unconsciously regained.
Before he could process the whirlwind within him, something caught his eye: a familiar figure obscured in the background of a snapshot on his phone. It was Sung-Hoon's father—the same man who had been present on that fateful day when his own parents had died. Overwhelmed by the revelation, he instinctively hurled his phone away from him, its impact jolting the ranger awake with a start.
"Areyouawake?" The ranger exclaimed, his voice thick with sleep as he hastily stood up and rushed over to Yeon-Jun, concern etched into his features. He unscrewed a bottle of water with deft fingers and offered it to him. "Here, drink some water." Yeon-Jun, still reeling from shock, took two small sips, the cool liquid soothing his dry throat before he handed the bottle back.
The ranger set the bottle aside and brought out a thermometer, ready to check Yeon-Jun's temperature. "You don't have a fever anymore. Let's see if we can get you some A—" He began, but Yeon-Jun suddenly gripped the man's arm, halting him before he could continue.
"Did you contact anyone from my family?" Yeon-Jun's voice trembled slightly, his eyes betraying a deep-seated anxiety. The ranger paused, furrowing his brow as he recalled their previous struggles.
"You didn't have anyone set as an emergency contact or on speed dial. We had quite a hard time unlocking your phone, so unfortunately, we couldn't reach out to your family," he explained gently, trying to offer some reassurance. Yeon-Jun let out a long sigh, a mixture of relief and fear coursing through him, and he made one last request of the ranger.
"Are you sure you don't need me to call anyone for you?" the ranger asked once more as he escorted Yeon-Jun to the entrance of the hotel where he had been staying. Yeon-Jun shook his head firmly, a polite but determined smile on his face.
"No, it's alright," he responded, gathering his belongings with care. "I don't really have much of an immediate family, and it would be better not to involve anyone and stir unnecessary worry. Please thank your supervisor for me. I left a note to ensure he doesn't scold you for letting me go without notifying him."
The ranger bowed respectfully as he watched Yeon-Jun stride into the building, still troubled by an unshakeable feeling of concern for the young man. But given Yeon-Jun's resolute demeanor, he understood there was nothing more he could do but take a picture of him to relay to his supervisor, before setting off on his way.
"Hyung," Woo-San called out, his voice breaking the tense silence that hung in the air after Hee-Jun had just finished an impassioned lecture about the dangers of recklessness. He had been scolding Woo-San for going out without informing anyone, especially after his impulsive decision to rescue a complete stranger. Taking a deep breath, Hee-Jun's frustration started to ebb when Woo-San unexpectedly shifted the conversation. "Why did you change your name from Hae-Seong to Hee-Jun?"
Hee-Jun sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead as if trying to massage away the weight of the questioning. He hadn't anticipated this turn of events, especially not so soon after their heated argument. For a moment, he was tempted to dismiss the inquiry, but recognizing it as an opportunity to mend their frayed moment, he reluctantly decided to respond as a means of making amends for his earlier outburst.
"It was the name of someone I deeply cherished," Hee-Jun replied, his tone serious yet tinged with vulnerability. "I changed it so I wouldn't forget him." He couldn't help but hold onto the remnants of his anger toward Woo-San, but he knew that sharing this piece of his past was important. "Why do you ask?" he added, a hint of curiosity piquing through his stern demeanor.
"Nothing, really," Woo-San said, settling back into his chair with a more comfortable posture. The tension had eased slightly, but there was a glimmer of intrigue in his eyes. "I just heard that name recently and felt a bit curious." His phone buzzed with a notification. Opening it, a vague smile came onto his face as he closed it back. "Also, could you do me a favor and look into a Yeon-Jun Shin?" His voice quivered slightly, betraying his effort to sound casual while making the request. It was clear he was treading carefully, trying to avoid inciting another round of reprimands.
Hee-Jun felt a surge of frustration bubbling within him once more. The notion of searching for someone just because of their name felt reckless and naive. However, he had already reached his limit for scolding for the day, and the exasperation rolled off him like water off a duck's back. "Yes, sir. I'll look into it and get back to you," he replied, his voice steady, masking the swirl of thoughts and emotions beneath the surface.