For about ten days, I was successful in not going there. Though sleeplessness tormented me, it was better than being beaten by my mom. Her beatings weren’t physically exhausting but mentally tormenting. I hoped for this peaceful state to continue, not because my house had become well off and comfortable, but because I didn’t have to endure her beatings. For that, I could easily tolerate having ten sleepless nights.
“Coff. Ugh.”
Unable to stop my dry cough, I got up from where I had laid down. My head felt foggy and dizzy. It was a cold, even though a dog wouldn’t even catch it in the summer. I hadn’t had a cold since the winter in my childhood when I was drenched in water outdoors.
Poverty would inevitably bring illness, but I wasn’t weak against diseases. Whenever I felt unwell, it was due to external bruises rather than internal illnesses. Whether it was because I couldn’t afford frequent illness or my pain threshold was high and didn’t realise I was sick to the extent that other people normally suffered, I couldn’t tell. Nonetheless, I rarely suffered from any illnesses.
When my mom was not at home, I couldn’t even turn on the heater for just 30 minutes. I couldn’t count how many winter nights I spent under a thin summer blanket on an icy floor. I didn’t catch a cold even then, yet now, after a day under the air conditioner at school, I didn’t expect to get so sick that I couldn’t sleep. It was like overeating a fatty meal after a long period of hunger; my body, used to winter air, was exposed to the air conditioner all day and fell ill. It was almost laughable. Even the cause of my illness seemed to be a reminder of my pathetic situation.
I got out of bed, gathered the medicine neatly placed on my desk, before getting out of my room and cautiously descending the stairs. I remembered when the housekeeper had given me the medicine earlier this evening, and my mom, eating across to me, had glared at me as if she wanted to scold me for seeking attention. At that time, I tried my best to keep my head down, pretending not to notice. I was too cautious of my mom’s glaring eyes, which made me have no desire to take the medicine.
Of course, I probably wouldn’t have taken it easily even without being cautious of her. The first time for anything is difficult. Having never taken medicine for an illness before, it felt unfamiliar. But if I kept coughing like this, she might hit me again in the morning for keeping her awake. I needed to take the medicine before I got too groggy.
As I entered the dark kitchen, the light flicked on automatically. I went further inside, took out a cup, and filled it with water from the dispenser. Holding the glass of water in one hand and the pills in the other, I stared at my palm. I used to have a meticulous father who would take his vitamins several times a day. I tried to recall that image, and the scenes from dramas. Despite my uncertainty, I tilted my head back and swallowed the pills. The bitter taste spread on my tongue immediately. Wondering if this was really the right way to take the medicine, I quickly gulped down the water, washing the pills down my throat. Only after the bitter pills slid down did I set down the glass. I grimaced at the lingering bitterness, not eager to repeat the experience.
Just as I felt a sense of accomplishment from finishing one big task, ready to leave the kitchen, it happened.
“Weak, aren’t you? More so than I thought.”
My heart nearly stopped at the figure standing at the kitchen entrance.
“And you stopped in your tracks just because I spoke to you.”
“……”
“You even caught a cold and groaned a lot.”
The voice talking to me was real, and I didn’t know how long this man had been watching me. If he saw me taking the medicine, was it from the beginning? It took a moment for his words to sink in as I calmed my startled heart.
“Hello.”
After some contemplation, I greeted him and quickly closed my mouth. My throat was even hoarser than it had been at dinner. Even if I had more to say, I wouldn’t have been able to, with my voice failing me.
The kitchen fell silent again. The sensor light, the refrigerator, and the air purifier were all making noises that felt overly loud in the quiet. The silence was almost oppressive, making me hyper-aware of even my own breathing.
He wasn’t one to speak much, as he himself had said.
Even during our meals together sometimes, he had never initiated conversation, only giving short responses to the chairman’s questions. It felt like he spoke relatively more when with me, not because he talked a lot, but because I spoke less in comparison.
I kept my gaze slightly below his eyes, not able to meet them directly, for a long time. Just as I felt the urge to flee this awkward atmosphere, he spoke again.
“Come to the study.”
His words came faster than my feet could move. Watching his lips, I blinked slowly in disbelief. Despite seeing his lips move, I couldn’t believe what he said.
“Don’t let your cold get worse and cause a nuisance.”
Leaving those words behind, he turned and left the kitchen first. I stood there, dumbfounded, for a long time.
Nuisance.
I already felt like my mere existence in this house was a nuisance, without needing to catch a cold. Feeling it myself was one thing, but hearing it from an actual member of the household was another. Yet, his words seemed to show concern for my sleep, so my sinking heart didn’t stay down for long. I wondered if my sudden summer cold was due to lack of sleep.
They say cold medicine would make you drowsy. So, even if I didn’t go to his study and went to my room, I might manage to sleep tonight. But instead of climbing the stairs to the second floor, I turned towards the study. Whether it was the effect of the medicine or because my body was weak from illness, I didn’t know. My body headed for the study as if it had a mind of its own, nullifying the previous ten days of effort. I internally excused it as being forced to go. As long as I returned to my room before morning, it would be fine. I just had to avoid getting caught by my mom. With that thought, I calmed my anxious mind.
Unlike usual, the door was slightly ajar. The light, usually barely escaping through the closed door, now spilled out like moonlight through the slightly open door. Entering as if welcomed by the door left ajar for a returning guest, I carefully closed it behind me.
Immediately upon entering, our eyes met. He stood in the middle of the study, looking at the door as if he had been waiting.
I felt breathless.
Yet at the same time, it was as if I could breathe again.
It was like stepping into a field with fresh air or visiting a longed-for hometown. The fever that had been burning my body seemed to cool in the gentle breeze. Even without opening a complex and difficult book, my eyelids grew heavy. I felt as if I could collapse and sleep right away.
I broke eye contact first with him. I moved further inside and instinctively sought the sofa, lying down on it. I felt my body relax as if it were being pulled into the floor even before I could cover myself with a blanket. I closed my eyes, oblivious to my nerves that must have been rattled by his persistent gaze still clinging to my face. My consciousness faded quickly. My sleep was summoned directly, without opening a single book.
Just before crossing the threshold of dreaming, I felt like I heard a low chuckle.
***
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