Gutter Chapter 1.1

Yeonjo was a child from an ordinary family. A kindergartener receiving utmost care from his office worker father and homemaker mother.

Even if their circumstances weren’t particularly affluent, he went to kindergarten every day, ate out like others on special occasions, and received gifts he wanted for his birthday and Christmas. Although he sometimes felt jealous of his younger brother who was full of childish whims, Yeonjo loved his whole family.

And in the year he turned six, Yeonjo suddenly became an orphan.

The valley where his family of four went for their summer vacation was located deep in the mountains, far from Seoul. His father, with an excited face, packed tents and food, boasting about finding an amazing spot that people didn’t know about. He also bought new tubes and beach balls, saying they could swim to their hearts’ content without worrying about others.

The water in the deserted valley was crystal clear. As soon as they arrived, Yeonjo swam, following small fish. His father was meticulously checking the tent where the family would stay for a few days, and his mother was busy washing rice and cooking.

His younger brother tagged along behind Yeonjo, being a nuisance, but this time, even Yeonjo took good care of his brother and played in the water with him.

“Cha Yeonjo! Take good care of your brother. Don’t go in too deep, okay?”

His mother reminded him several times. Contrary to her worries, the water was shallow, and the current was slow and gentle. Thanks to this, for several days, Yeonjo enjoyed his vacation to the fullest, swimming freely with his family.

And on the last day of their vacation. As Yeonjo, clad in his swimsuit, rushed into the valley right after breakfast, water droplets splashed against his white cheeks. Looking up at the sky, he saw raindrops falling little by little through the dark clouds.

His father was busy folding the tent, and his mother was washing the dishes they had used for their meal.

“Yeonsu, it’s raining. Let’s go inside now.”

Yeonjo said, taking care of his younger brother. But there was no answer. As he looked around, he heard his brother’s voice in the distance.

“Brother! Look at this.”

“Cha Yeonsu.”

Mom told him not to go far. Yeonjo paddled his little feet diligently and swam to where his brother was.

The current felt strange today. As if it were gently wrapping around his legs.

“Yeonjo, bring your brother out! It’s raining!”

“Yes, Mom!”

Yeonjo turned his head and looked for his brother again. But his brother, who had been splashing around just a moment ago, was nowhere to be seen.

The light rain suddenly turned into a downpour, and cold currents began to swirl around him. Everything happened in an instant.

“Brotheeer!”

He heard his brother’s piercing scream in the distance. It seemed he was being swept away, probably because he was short. He heard his parents shouting something from behind, but Yeonjo blindly jumped into the strong current to save his younger brother.

But Yeonjo was also just a six-year-old child. Empowered by the sudden downpour, the shallow valley water had swelled, now reaching up to his neck. The intensifying current kept pushing Yeonjo away. As the water rose to his chin and he flailed his limbs, cold water flowed into his mouth.

“M-Mom!”

Yeonjo, terrified, splashed around. He saw his father, who had been packing up the tent, running towards the valley. But they were already quite far apart.

“Yeonjo! Cha Yeonjo! Cha Yeonsu!”

The gently flowing water now rushed along the rocks and the slope, and his feet no longer touched the bottom.

His father was approaching quickly, but Yeonjo was moving away even faster. Water rushed into his eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. Not only was he gasping for breath, but breathing became impossible.

“Cha Yeonjo, grab Daddy’s hand!”

His father’s booming voice pierced his fading hearing. Although his father’s urgent face wavered in his vision, Yeonjo couldn’t do anything. His body, deprived of sufficient oxygen, was gradually stiffening.

Rumble. Crash!

Lightning flashed across the sky, thunder roared, and the loud sound echoed everywhere. Terror reached its peak, and he couldn’t even cry.

Yeonjo struggled, gasping, and slowly closed his eyes. He completely lost consciousness as he felt his father’s cold hand tightly gripping his arm.

🚬

When he regained consciousness, he was in the pediatric ward of a large hospital in Seoul. The eight-person ward was filled with noises from other patients, and the area around Yeonjo’s bed was particularly empty.

He immediately looked for his parents, but from the sympathetic gazes of the adults sharing the ward and the doctor, Yeonjo instinctively realized he was alone.

Without even time to grieve or accept reality, his father, mother, and younger brother’s funeral was held modestly. Yeonjo didn’t really know what a funeral was. He spent time blankly in front of the portrait photos, overhearing the whispers of other pediatric patients’ guardians saying he would never see his family again.

Looking back now, the memories of that time were the most blurry. There wasn’t a single vivid scene. Only the harsh loneliness of being left alone in this vast world came to mind clearly.

He heard that his father’s side of the family had practically severed ties and were living abroad, and his mother’s parents, who were her only family, had passed away early, so Yeonjo was an orphan.

Thus, the six-year-old Cha Yeonjo, who had left on a summer vacation with his family, returned alone.

🚬

With no family to care for him, Yeonjo was quickly sent to an orphanage after being discharged. It was a terrible facility in every way, mainly because of Director Park.

He made more than ten children sleep in a small room, and the facility lacked proper heating and cooling. In the summer, the building would get so hot that children would collapse from heat exhaustion, and in the winter, they had to shiver all night in the cold, as if sleeping on thin ice.

But even then, Yeonjo didn’t feel that Director Park was a devil. Because he provided meals, however meager, and sent the children to school for education.

Director Park’s gradual change began about a year after Yeonjo entered the orphanage.

“Little one, you’re so cute. What’s your name?”

“Yeonjo. Cha Yeonjo.”

“Do you have anything you want? Like a toy, or some pocket money….”

A middle-aged businessman who had stopped by the orphanage briefly for a donation and photo opportunity asked Yeonjo. He said Yeonjo was cute, resembling his grandchild, and visited several more times afterward, donating to the orphanage.

After that, broadcasting companies started visiting the orphanage whenever there were large donation events or public service announcements related to child welfare. They all made it a condition for Yeonjo to appear in photos and videos, and Director Park, pocketing the pouring donations, readily put Yeonjo forward.

Someone who claimed to be a PD from a broadcasting station visited a few times and asked Yeonjo if he’d considered becoming a child actor, but Director Park rejected all such offers, citing his authority as legal guardian. He only allowed Yeonjo to participate in events related to donations.

That’s when Director Park’s direct violence towards the children at the orphanage began. He cursed at all the children except those who, like Yeonjo, could bring in profits, calling them good-for-nothing brats. He starved them, crammed them into the farthest rooms of the building, and barely checked on them. He didn’t care if they were late or absent from school, and their meals were provided erratically.

Pretty clothes and good food all went to Yeonjo and other children with cute appearances that could attract attention. When other children, harboring discontent, complained or became bothersome, Director Park, who had initially pretended to admonish them halfheartedly, gradually began to resort to corporal punishment.

Around the time Director Park’s tyranny was becoming severe, ‘that child’ arrived.

That child was abandoned in front of the orphanage one winter night when Yeonjo was seven years old, tightly wrapped in a blanket.

Even heartless parents who abandon their own flesh and blood usually leave a note with the child’s name or birthday, but for some reason, only the year of birth was written for that child. There was no name, no birthday, not even the common courtesy of a “Please take good care of him.”

Director Park was annoyed at the sight of the child. He grumbled about a useless brat showing up at such a busy time and tossed the baby to the older children, paying him no further attention.

No one knew that child’s name. Director Park must have chosen a name and registered it on the paperwork, but he never called the child by name, instead referring to him as “Rags.” The reason was that the blanket wrapping the child on the day he was abandoned in front of the orphanage was so worn and tattered that it looked like rags.

So, all the adults and children at the orphanage called him Rags.

However, Yeonjo never called that child Rags. He didn’t want to. When he had to refer to the child, he’d call him “Baby.”

Blinded by government subsidies and donations from influential figures, Director Park and the staff practically neglected the children they deemed unnecessary. Rags never received proper care. The older children, attending middle and high school, were always coming home late or getting into trouble, so there was no one to change Rags’ diapers regularly.

Pitying Rags’ constantly festering skin, seven-year-old Yeonjo started taking care of him. It wasn’t that he had any particular affection for Rags. The atmosphere at the orphanage was always bleak, and even though he had slightly better things and clothes than other children, Yeonjo was also just an orphan with nowhere to lean on.

🚬

“Yeonjo. Mr. Kim is waiting for you in the room, so go quickly.”

One day, the director called Yeonjo in an unusually gentle tone. Even to Yeonjo, who was unaware of the ways of the world, it sounded ominous and unsettling.

The horrific events began without warning.

Since starting elementary school, the people who came looking for Yeonjo at the orphanage were mostly older men. They wanted to spend time alone with him. At first, they would ask if he wanted anything or if there was anywhere he wanted to go, and as his guard lowered, they would naturally touch his shoulders, waist, or hands.

Initially, they seemed cautious, but emboldened by Director Park’s tacit approval and Yeonjo’s passive attitude, stemming from his ignorance of such acts, the men’s actions became increasingly bolder, escalating to outright molestation.

As the seasons changed, Yeonjo gradually realized that these intermittent meetings were somehow unnatural. However, he didn’t think of it as shameful or that he should ask someone for help. Yeonjo’s life was too barren and harsh to feel such delicate emotions. Enduring each day, striving to hold onto the fading memories of his parents, was all the child could do.

Time, seemingly agonizingly slow yet relentless, flowed by, and Yeonjo turned sixteen.

“B-Brother. W-Where… d-did you go?”

As he entered the room, Rags was awake, waiting for him. The child, completely neglected at the orphanage, clung to Yeonjo, the only one who cared for him.

He would even squeeze into the small room Director Park had given Yeonjo to use alone and never leave. Perhaps due to the lack of affection and attention, ten-year-old Rags was extremely small for his age. And he stuttered.

Director Park hadn’t bothered sending him to any educational facilities, so he couldn’t interact with his peers, and his speech was also underdeveloped.

Yeonjo, who had been summoned by a client again in the middle of the night, sighed at the sight of Rags waiting for him, still awake. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone right now.

Even though Rags couldn’t have been unaware of his desire to be alone, he was always one-sided when it came to Yeonjo. Rags wouldn’t eat or sleep in the room without Yeonjo and wouldn’t talk to anyone else. The pathetically skinny child constantly trailed after Yeonjo.

Yeonjo didn’t shower the child with affection or attention, but he didn’t hate the child who followed him like a baby bird.

In truth, he pitied the child. Everyone at the orphanage was pitiful, but if he had to choose the most unfortunate child, it would be the one called Rags. Unlike Yeonjo, who at least had memories of his parents, that child had been brought here as a baby and had grown up exposed to the violence of Director Park and the staff.

“I just went outside and talked to a mister.”

“W-Which m-mister?”

“I don’t know his name. He’s a very important… person.”

Director Park had introduced the man as a “very important person.” But Yeonjo felt no respect for the man who had groped him.

“A v-very i-important… p-person, who?”

“Someone who helps our facility.”

Yeonjo wiped the snot and drool caked around Rags’ nose and mouth with a tissue. He felt a sense of suffocation as he watched the small child, as if it were natural, pull the blanket over and spread it next to him.

Yeonjo was also only sixteen. He wasn’t old enough to take care of anyone, but Rags always needed him obsessively. Waiting for Yeonjo to come home from school in this cramped, air conditioner-less room was the child’s main daily routine.

So, while he felt pity, he also felt uncomfortable and burdened by the child.

“B-Brother. Y-You’re n-not g-going… a-anywhere, right? You’re not l-leaving with another m-mister… right?”

“Where would I go? Come here, blow your nose!”

Even though Yeonjo hadn’t said he was going anywhere, Rags always seemed anxious that he would leave. Looking at the child’s tearful eyes, Yeonjo pulled out more tissues and wiped his nose, and then the tears streaming down his cheeks.

The sleeves of his shirt were yellowed with grime, as if he’d been wearing the same clothes for days.

This is why no one likes you. Yeonjo swallowed the harsh words.

“If your clothes are dirty, take them off and put them in the laundry basket.”

“I d-don’t h-have… a-any other c-clothes…”

The child drooped his head dejectedly, as if his soul had left him.

“Did you tell the director?”

“Y-Yes.”

“And he didn’t give you any?”

“Yes…”

“…….”

Yeonjo irritably tossed the tissue into the trash can. The child looked at him cautiously, gauging his reaction. While the exterior of the orphanage building gradually improved thanks to the donations Director Park received from various sources, the living facilities the children actually used were becoming increasingly dilapidated.

Director Park had always been indifferent to the children, but he was particularly harsh towards Rags, who stuttered and couldn’t even make eye contact with others.

“Let’s change your clothes.”

Yeonjo rummaged through the corner and found some of his old, outgrown clothes. They were a bit big for Rags, but it was better than him wearing those filthy clothes.

As he undressed the child, he saw that the small, thin body was covered in bruises. It was undoubtedly Director Park’s doing. He was especially cruel to Rags.

“Next time the director hits you, scream.”

“Okay.”

The answer came immediately, but Yeonjo knew the child wouldn’t scream next time either. He felt suffocated, as if someone were pressing down on his chest with their foot. Yeonjo, finding it hard to breathe, took a slow, deep breath, as was his habit.

“B-Brother. D-Don’t be a-angry.”

“…….”

Seeing Yeonjo’s hardened expression, the child ran and hugged him tightly. Yeonjo, sitting limply, raised his hand and patted the thin back that longed for human touch.

Even though they didn’t resemble each other at all, sometimes when he looked at Rags, he was reminded of his deceased younger brother. And then, naturally, memories of his dead mother and father followed.

Yeonjo found that painful. There was a faded family photo somewhere deep in his closet, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to look at it for a long time. Because it became unbearably painful. So, Yeonjo didn’t look at the photo until his family’s faces faded from his memory.

That child always made Yeonjo feel distressed and burdened.

“B-Brother. S-Sing me a lullaby…”

The child pulled the old, worn-out blanket he slept with close and lay down next to Yeonjo. He then tugged on Yeonjo’s sleeve, pulling him closer. The unwashed blanket smelled musty.

Everyone avoided getting close to Rags, saying he smelled bad. But Yeonjo didn’t find the child’s smell particularly strong or unpleasant. He thought of it as the smell of loneliness. Just like his own.

“What lullaby?”

“A-Anything…”

In truth, he didn’t remember any lullabies. He simply hummed a clumsy patchwork of songs his mother had sung to him a few times when he was little. Rags wholeheartedly believed this poorly sung song, with its forgotten lyrics, was a lullaby.

“B-Brother… L-Lullaby…”

When Yeonjo didn’t respond, Rags urged him cautiously.

Yeonjo wanted to cry.

But he couldn’t refuse the bruised child’s request. So he reluctantly opened his mouth and sang. His voice trembled. When he sang, memories of nights spent lying next to his parents, falling asleep, surfaced.

Whenever he remembered his parents’ faces, their voices calling his name, his brother’s ticklish laughter, Yeonjo would feel as if he were still submerged in the swollen valley water from ten years ago.

Should I report it to the police? An older girl who was in high school at the time had reported it, but Director Park dismissed the bruises as injuries from a fight between the children. The police didn’t investigate properly and were eager to brush it aside. Despite the countless signs of abuse, nothing changed at the orphanage.

“Lie down comfortably and sleep.”

Yeonjo said, looking at Rags who had turned towards him and lay on his side.

“B-Brother Yeonjo. You’re n-not g-going a-anywhere, right?”

“I’m not going.”

As if finally reassured, the child closed his eyes. Looking at the pale, weary face, Yeonjo suddenly realized that he still didn’t know the child’s real name.

He grows up so slowly. The child who had been abandoned in front of the orphanage at one year old was just as pathetic and thin as he had been that day. Now, at ten years old, Rags was sound asleep, as still as he had been then, covered with the same tattered blanket.

Yeonjo looked away from him and recalled what had happened today.

The man, who was the director of the university hospital, always made Yeonjo touch his body whenever he visited the orphanage. His visits, once every few months, had become increasingly frequent, and he had already summoned Yeonjo to his room twice this month.

Yeonjo wanted to leave the orphanage. But even if he left, where would he go? With no family, no relatives, and no money. He had diligently saved the small amounts of money the men occasionally gave him, but it was nowhere near enough for a deposit or monthly rent. There weren’t many places that would hire a minor like him either.

I guess I’ll have to wait until I’m an adult.

Even calmly calculating his future felt daunting. Yeonjo tried to fall asleep, listening to Rags’ regular breathing as the child gently held his sleeve.

🚬

Contrary to his expectations, Yeonjo ran away from the orphanage before he became an adult.

When he turned seventeen, the man, who was supposedly a National Assembly member from the region, with his greasy face, tried to forcibly undress Yeonjo, who had just started high school. He didn’t know exactly what the man was trying to do, but it seemed like he was trying to push his erect penis inside him.

Yeonjo, pinned beneath the man, driven by instinctive fear, pushed him away with all his might, punched him, and ran out of the room.

Director Park, upon learning of this, laid his hands on Yeonjo for the first time. Yeonjo was beaten until his face was bloody. Furious at the prospect of losing an important sponsor, Director Park grabbed a golf club and swung it at Yeonjo. He then deliberately hit him with his ringed hand.

Blood streamed from Yeonjo’s split lip and forehead. When he left the director’s office, his eyes were so swollen that he could barely see. His whole body ached and burned as if he had been doused with boiling water.

Despite the relentless pain, Yeonjo didn’t cry. Watching him grit his teeth and endure the beating, Director Park clicked his tongue, calling him a tough bastard.

Yeonjo wanted to cry his heart out, kneel, and beg for his life. But nothing welled up in his dry eyes. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had cried.

For months after learning of his family’s death and entering the orphanage alone, he had cried every day, but now, no matter how terrible the things he endured, tears wouldn’t come. Not even in those disgusting moments when older men panted over him, like today.

That night, late, when everyone at the orphanage was asleep, Yeonjo secretly started packing his belongings. He put a few clothes and the piggy bank containing the small change he had collected from the men who had fondled him into his backpack. He also included the old, faded family photo he had kept hidden away for so long.

He’d rather starve to death outside than stay here any longer.

As he slung the backpack over his shoulder and was about to leave the room, someone tugged on his sleeve. Yeonjo was startled and fell backward. Gasping in surprise, wondering if he had been caught, he saw Rags standing before him.

“B-Brother. T-Take me t-too.”

“…You.”

The child spoke calmly, his face unsurprised, as if he had anticipated this day. As if he had been expecting it.

Yeonjo frowned in distress. His heart was still pounding like it was about to burst.

“C-Can’t I… c-come with y-you?”

“…….”

Yeonjo had no intention of taking Rags with him. He could barely take care of himself, let alone a child six years younger than him. Even if he left the orphanage like this, he didn’t even have a proper place to sleep tonight.

“I-I’ll be q-quiet. Okay?”

“No. You stay here. I’ll…”

“…….”

“…….”

Yeonjo twitched his lips, still bleeding from where they had been split. He couldn’t bring himself to lie and say he would come back for him later.

Looking at the child’s eyes, staring up at him intently in the dim room, he felt suffocated. Yeonjo spoke with difficulty, like someone being strangled.

“It might be safer for you here.”

“I-I want to s-stay with B-Brother Yeonjo.”

“I… I can’t take you.”

Yeonjo finally confessed the reality to Rags. And he shook off the small hand tightly gripping his sleeve.

He had worried about what he would do if Rags clung to him and refused to let go, but the child was quiet. He simply stared at Yeonjo, sucking his thumb, just like he had the first day he arrived at the orphanage.

If he started making a fuss, they would be caught. Director Park would never let him go. So, he had to leave now.

Goodbye.

Yeonjo mouthed the words, then tiptoed out into the hallway. The lights were all off, and it was pitch black. But he had lived here for eleven years, since he was six. Even if he couldn’t see well, he could find his way down to the first floor and to the exit with his eyes closed.

Despite it being the moment he left a place he had stayed for so long, he didn’t feel the slightest bit sad. Yeonjo moved stealthily, careful not to wake the other children in the rooms or Director Park. Before going down the stairs, he looked back at his room, but there was no sound, no sign of anyone.

“…….”

Yeonjo went down to the first floor and, looking at the firmly locked door, took something out of his pocket. It was the key to the orphanage entrance that Director Park had dropped when he had been hitting him earlier.

Click. The lock disengaged easily.

Finally, escape. His chest swelled with a sense of liberation.

But for some reason, he couldn’t move for a few seconds, frozen before the open door. Yeonjo closed his eyes tightly.

“Ha…”

He couldn’t bring himself to take a step. All he had to do was walk out, free and clear. He had no attachment to this place.

Because of that child.

Yeonjo turned back and quickly ran up to the second floor. He hesitated briefly in front of the room he had closed behind him, then opened the door. The room, with the lights off, was filled with thick darkness. And the child was huddled in the corner, wrapped in the rag-like blanket, crying silently.

Sniffle…hiccup…sob…

The sorrowful sounds of suppressed cries occasionally escaped like whimpers. The fragile sounds tugged at his heart, causing a pang of pain.

Only then did Yeonjo remember that the child was a pitiful boy who had never experienced complaining to anyone. His heart felt heavy.

Yeonjo pulled back the rag-like blanket and lifted the child.

“Let’s go.”

“…….”

“Come with me.”

Yeonjo spoke in a voice that sounded resigned. The child, his face drenched in tears, nodded repeatedly. As if he had been waiting for just those words.

🚬

Even though they had escaped the orphanage, their lives were incredibly destitute. They managed to secure a single room using the money he had received from the men and the money he had stolen from Director Park’s wallet, but it was only enough for one month.

The elderly landlord, even as he rented out the room, eyed the two children suspiciously. Two skinny children showing up without parents or any adults, asking to stay in a room, looked exactly like runaways. Using this as an excuse, he charged them an extra 50,000 won for rent.

Because they didn’t go to school for fear of Director Park finding them, the landlord watched them even more closely, his suspicion growing.

The single room, located in the basement of a three-story, dilapidated commercial building, didn’t get any sunlight. The first floor housed a noodle restaurant with only two items on its menu, and the second floor, though its purpose remained unclear, saw large men in suits coming and going late at night. Women in short clothes also occasionally visited the place.

The landlord burned trash every day at the building entrance, and the smoke was so acrid that they had to keep the windows closed all the time.

Yeonjo managed to start working part-time at a barbecue restaurant. Since all his money had gone towards the rent, he practically begged the owner to let him work, pleading with him. He went to work on an empty stomach because they didn’t offer advances. Even that, he was grateful for.

Some days he wouldn’t eat a single meal, and on lucky days, he would share a loaf of bread given to him by the lady from the noodle restaurant upstairs with Rags. Sometimes, they would barely manage a meal by picking at side dishes he brought from the barbecue restaurant. But they were always hungry.

When he returned to their single room late at night after cleaning grills at the restaurant, the child would be asleep, curled up in a ball in the corner, or watching people passing through the narrow alley outside the small window.

Rags would timidly shuffle around him, showing signs of welcome whenever Yeonjo returned, but he wouldn’t bother him or demand a lullaby like he used to at the orphanage.

Is this right? Yeonjo often wondered.

The bruises on the child’s body were gradually fading, but he looked thinner and weaker than before.

Yeonjo made a gloomy resolution to buy some meat for Rags after paying next month’s rent with his first paycheck.

After turning off the flickering fluorescent light, nearing the end of its lifespan, Yeonjo lay down on the bare floor. Then, Rags, who had been waiting quietly in the corner, came over with a blanket and lay down gently beside him. Covering Yeonjo with the stained cloth, the child went to sleep without a single complaint about being hungry.

🚬

A bitter taste rose in his mouth from hunger. Yeonjo, pale and listless, cleared the tables the customers had vacated.

He hadn’t eaten anything since he left the room in the afternoon. He could endure it, but for the child, only eleven years old, the hunger must be even more agonizing. Even though his stomach growled all night, the child didn’t complain, not even when Yeonjo left for work.

What if he collapses or dies? Yeonjo anxiously bit his lower lip as he loaded a tray full of dishes.

I shouldn’t have brought him with me. I can barely manage on my own; how could I have the capacity to take care of another child…?

Crash!

“Gasp!”

“Hey, you little shit! What are you doing!”

Lost in thought for a moment, his grip weakened, and the tray tilted. The dishes on top all fell to the floor, shattering into pieces with a loud crash.

Yeonjo snapped out of his reverie and faced reality. The owner rushed over and slapped him across the face. Customers watched in shock.

“I’m sorry.”

“Do you even know how much this all costs? I reluctantly hired you, a whiny orphan, out of pity, and this is how you work? Huh!”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll clean it up right away.”

Yeonjo bowed, his face pale.

“If I took you in out of pity because you’re an orphan, you should work hard! Damn it, you’re useless. This is why kids without parents are no good.”

Yeonjo quickly picked up the broken shards and placed them on the tray. But the owner kicked his hand away irritably, saying he didn’t need it.

“Get out! I’ll deduct all of this from your paycheck, so you better be prepared.”

His face flushed under the gazes of the customers and the owner’s abusive language. It was as if everyone here now knew he was an orphan and in dire straits.

Yeonjo endured the humiliation and finished cleaning up. The glass had cut his hand when the owner kicked him earlier, and blood was flowing from his knuckles and the back of his hand.

He couldn’t feel the pain; it was as if his senses were numb. With his head hung low like a criminal, Yeonjo silently cleaned the floor and scrubbed the grills until late.

When Yeonjo returned to the room where Rags was waiting, he had two thousand won in his hand. The lady working in the kitchen, taking pity on him, had given it to him, telling him to buy some kimbap on his way.

He wanted to refuse, to say he wasn’t that pitiful. But Yeonjo bowed his head deeply, took the money, and put it in his pocket.

He bought two eggs and two packets of ramen at the local convenience store, which stayed open late. He also bought bubble gum with the few hundred won he had left, the cheapest kind, for the child.

At least they wouldn’t have to starve tonight. One packet of ramen and one egg each. It was enough for a small child like Rags to eat his fill. However, the owner’s words about deducting the cost of the broken dishes from his pay bothered him. The amount the owner wanted him to pay was more than he had expected.

Yeonjo walked with heavy steps. Every day was a struggle. Would it have been better to stay at the orphanage? If he had just lain there and done what those men wanted, he would have had warm meals, nice clothes, and even pocket money. He could have eaten whatever he wanted. He could have bought the snacks that child liked…

“Are you going home now?”

As Yeonjo was about to descend into the basement where Rags was waiting, he ran into the landlord in front of the building. Even at night, he was burning trash again.

“Hello.”

“Yes… you know you have to pay next month’s rent by tomorrow, right?”

“By tomorrow? It hasn’t even been a month since we started living here…”

The landlord, clad only in a white undershirt, clicked his tongue. He squinted and looked Yeonjo up and down.

“What makes you think I’d wait a whole month, trusting suspicious kids like you? You might run off without paying, so you have to pay in advance.”

“But…”

“When an adult speaks, you say, ‘Yes, sir.’ Where did you learn your manners?”

“I d-don’t have any m-money right now.”

Yeonjo stammered in his fluster.

“That’s your problem. Anyway, bring the rent by tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll give it to you as soon as the month is up. Can’t you wait a little longer?”

“If you don’t like it, just leave. There was a truck driver or something asking about the room. If you don’t pay by tomorrow, I’ll kick you out and give it to him, so you’d better know that.”

It was like a bolt from the blue. The landlord seemed eager to get rid of Yeonjo and Rags as soon as possible. Since someone with a stable job had inquired about the room, he probably decided it would be more profitable to rent it to them.

Yeonjo descended into the basement, numbly opened the door, and entered the cramped space, barely three pyeong in size.

“B-Brother. You’re b-back?”

“…Yeah. I bought some ramen. Let’s eat.”

Yeonjo filled a metal pot with water and turned on the gas stove. He felt dazed. It would be a few more days before he received his paycheck from the restaurant. With them skipping meals and starving, there was no way he could have the rent money.

Should I ask the owner if he could pay me a little early? But the gruff, stingy owner was unlikely to grant such a request. What should he do? How could he get the money by tomorrow?

“Aren’t y-you going to e-eat, brother?”

Rags brought out two pairs of wooden chopsticks and looked up at Yeonjo. His cheeks were so hollow that he looked like a sick person. From lack of food, his body was covered with rashes of unknown origin.

Yeonjo felt suffocated, wanting to run away. Why did he bring this child with him? Without any plan.

Why did you follow me? Why don’t you ever complain? Why do you look at me with that face…?

Even though he knew the child wasn’t at fault, resentment welled up within him.

Rags, sensing Yeonjo’s foul mood, kept glancing at him throughout their ramen meal. After they finished eating, Yeonjo put the empty pot in the sink and washed the dishes.

He noticed the cut on his hand, which he had forgotten about. His knuckles throbbed and stung. Even though he had put a bandage on it, it had half come off, tattered and worn.

There was no sound behind him as he washed the dishes. He felt a pang of guilt for not being able to say a kind word to the child who had waited for him all day in this cramped space. But the reality was so bleak that he didn’t have the energy to care for anyone.

Yeonjo felt burdened by his life.

It felt as if his throat was stuffed with cotton, like he was about to suffocate.

“B-Brother. S-Sing me a l-lullaby…”

As it was time for bed, the child, for the first time since they had come here, asked for a lullaby. Yeonjo didn’t reply, just took deep, ragged breaths.

“I-If you d-don’t w-want to, I’ll j-just s-sleep…”

“Come here.”

Feeling sorry for the child who had been alone all day, Yeonjo pulled Rags, who had lain down next to him, into a hug. He was so small, like a kindergartener, that no one would believe he was eleven. He needs to grow taller. Yeonjo patted the child’s back listlessly.

“What do you do when I’m at work?”

“J-Just… s-sit.”

“Aren’t you bored?”

“I-I can look o-outside… i-if I’m b-bored…”

“…Don’t you want to go to school?”

Rags shook his head vigorously in Yeonjo’s arms.

“Why?”

“The k-kids t-tease me… and h-hit me…”

“…….”

“They c-call me a s-stutterer…”

“…….”

“But B-Brother Yeonjo… n-never t-teases me…”

Yeonjo didn’t ask any more questions and just held the child close as he sang. Rags, who had been tense, thinking Yeonjo might force him to go to school, relaxed, relieved.

It wasn’t a real lullaby, and the lyrics changed slightly every time, but the child always seemed pleased.

As he sang mechanically, Yeonjo worried about tomorrow with a troubled face.

Could he really get an advance on his paycheck? Or should he beg the landlord again? But the landlord had said that if he didn’t pay by tomorrow, he would give the room to someone else and kick him and Rags out immediately.

If they were kicked out, they would have nowhere to go.

Yeonjo briefly imagined returning to the orphanage. Should he send the child back, at least?

Rags would definitely refuse to go. He would insist on staying with him, even if it meant starving. He had always been so clingy.

They were both getting thinner and thinner, they had nowhere to go, and there wasn’t a single adult in this wide world they could rely on. Since they had run away from the orphanage, they weren’t going to school, and even if they died here, no one would come looking for them. The landlord would just curse them, calling them bad luck.

Yeonjo closed his dry eyes and wished for tomorrow to never come.

🚬

Yeonjo woke up early in the morning and quickly got dressed. Rags, perhaps awakened by the rustling sound, was sitting up, staring at him intently.

“Are y-you g-going to w-work?”

“Yeah. I have to leave a little early today.”

Yeonjo glanced around the moldy room with heavy eyes.

“B-Brother Yeonjo.”

For some reason, Rags scurried over and called out to him.

“C-Can’t I c-come with y-you t-today?”

“To where I work?”

“Yes…”

Yeonjo frowned and hesitated before shaking his head.

“J-Just t-today… I-I’ll be q-quiet.”

“It’s too busy there; there’s nowhere for you to stay.”

“I-I’ll just s-sit… f-far away… I w-won’t even t-talk… I w-won’t even p-pretend to k-know you…”

A pang of sadness struck him as Rags, uncharacteristically, insisted.

“I’ll take you next time. Not today.”

“W-When is n-next t-time?”

“…Tomorrow. If you wait for me here, we’ll go out together tomorrow. Okay?”

“O-Okay.”

The gloomy expression on the child’s face finally brightened.

“S-See you l-later.”

The child smiled, chewing the bubble gum Yeonjo had bought him yesterday.

“You have to stay here quietly until I come back.”

“Okay!”

Yeonjo looked at the child for a moment before turning away. A sense of guilt gnawed at his insides, the guilt of bringing the child from the orphanage only to put him in an even worse situation. The moment he stepped out of the room, Yeonjo’s face crumpled as if he was about to cry.

The streets were quiet in the early morning. A certain chill, difficult to describe, permeated the foggy alleys before the day truly began.

Even though Rags wasn’t following him, Yeonjo ran quickly through the alleys. Like a fugitive.

His mind was overflowing with thoughts, as if it was about to explode.

That child, the rent, the orphanage, his paycheck, the single room, the gazes of the men who had fondled him, the bruises, Director Park, school, hunger, the child’s smile he had seen today…

Everything was tangled together, pressing down on Yeonjo. It was as if a hand was gripping his throat, choking him with pain. Yeonjo felt like he was standing at the edge of a cliff. No matter how much he ran, it felt like he was still standing in the same spot.

“Ha… ha…”

After running for a long time, Yeonjo caught his breath, realizing he was in an unfamiliar market. He felt dizzy. The cut on his hand from the broken dishes throbbed, and his chest kept tightening and releasing as if it was about to burst.

‘This is why kids without parents are no good.’

The owner’s words from yesterday echoed in his ears. Perhaps they were true.

Because he had just abandoned ‘that child’ and run away alone.

Even after leaving that fragile, pitiful child behind, Cha Yeonjo hadn’t shed a single tear. His eyes, as always, were dry.

Yeonjo staggered forward. But perhaps because he had run for so long, his body wouldn’t cooperate.

“Oh dear, young man. Are you alright?”

As he collapsed on the ground, sweating profusely, an elderly woman, who had come out early to sell fish, expressed concern for Yeonjo.

Yeonjo, parched, shook his head and coughed. As if she understood that he needed water, the woman rummaged through her old bag with her fishy hands and pulled out a thermos. She poured him some tea. Yeonjo accepted it without refusal and gulped it down.

“Would you like another cup?”

“Y-Yes… thank you.”

Bowing his head, Yeonjo accepted several more cups of tea. Even after he had calmed down, he had nowhere to go, so he lingered in the increasingly crowded market alley.

The woman, without asking any questions, offered him a spot next to her in the shade, telling him to sit.

Sitting there blankly, killing time, he wondered where he should go now.

What would Rags be doing now? Would the landlord have come by, asking for the rent? Then would the child have gone back to the orphanage? Should he have taken the child back to the orphanage instead of running away like this?

But the orphanage always treated the child like a nuisance. Because he was small and stuttered, Director Park called him a stuttering retard and would hit him with whatever was at hand whenever he felt like it. It was Director Park who had given him the humiliating name “Rags” in the first place.

With all the other children at the orphanage avoiding him, it was unthinkable to take him back there.

But leaving him behind and running away alone was also unforgivable…

They were all the same. Cha Yeonjo himself, Director Park, those men. They were all people who only thought of themselves.

Even though he knew what he had done was terrible, Yeonjo couldn’t bring himself to take responsibility for the child. His own life was already hard enough. Each day was a struggle just to survive.

Hadn’t he survived alone in the valley eleven years ago? This time would be the same. Alone again…

“Child, aren’t you going home?”

As night fell, the woman, having sold all her fish, asked Yeonjo, who had been sitting motionless for a long time. She had shared her packed lunch with him and hadn’t asked why he wasn’t going home, but now that she was done with her work, her kindness had reached its limit.

“I’m not going.”

“Oh dear. Did you get into a lot of trouble with your mother?”

“…I don’t have a mother.”

“Oh my… dear me…”

The woman packed the leftover fish into a box and tidied up her spot. Fortunately, she didn’t pry any further. People busily walked by, each towards their own destination, and Yeonjo was left completely alone, separated from them. Unlike them, he had nowhere to go.

He sat with his knees drawn up, his head hung low. The sounds of footsteps assaulted his ears. He wished he could just disappear from the world. Then he wouldn’t have to worry about what to do today.

Unable to shake off his anxiety, Yeonjo closed his eyes. Perhaps because he hadn’t slept properly the night before, he dozed off briefly.

‘B-Brother…’

The child’s face, crying silently, appeared in his dream.

Yeonjo gasped and opened his eyes wide.

“…….”

“You really aren’t going home?”

He heard the woman’s concerned voice. After blinking blankly for a moment, Yeonjo shook his head vigorously and stood up, brushing himself off.

The child’s cries lingered in his ears like tinnitus.

What had he done today? It was as if someone had splashed cold water on his face, clearing his muddled mind.

And the reality of what he had done that morning finally hit him.

“I… I should get going.”

“Alright, be careful. Your family must be worried.”

Yeonjo hurriedly started running back the way he had come. What time was it? Could the landlord have kicked the child out? Then where would he be?

He wouldn’t know where Yeonjo worked, so he would just be waiting outside.

‘I’ll take you next time. Not today.’

‘W-When is n-next t-time?’

‘…Tomorrow. If you wait for me here, we’ll go out together tomorrow. Okay?’

‘S-See you l-later.’

‘You have to stay here quietly until I come back.’

‘Okay!’

When the child nodded and answered, a faint scent of bubble gum wafted from him. How could he have so calmly lied and turned his back on the child who smiled even at a cheap piece of bubble gum, at his insincere answer?

Overwhelmed by guilt, Yeonjo ran towards the single room.

“Ha… ha…”

But because he had never been to this neighborhood before, he didn’t remember the way back clearly. He wandered through the narrow, dirty alleys, barely lit by streetlights, several times.

Yeonjo grew increasingly anxious. He should have just left with the child. If he couldn’t take care of him, he should have taken him back to the orphanage. No, he shouldn’t have brought the child out of there in the first place, knowing he couldn’t be responsible for him…

No, no… he shouldn’t have lied to the child today.

It was all his fault.

“See, I knew this would happen. He’s always complaining about burning trash out front.”

“Did you call 119?”

“I called ages ago, but they still haven’t arrived. Damn it, are they building the firetruck from scratch or something?”

“Oh dear… a fire in the building all of a sudden…”

After wandering through countless alleys, Yeonjo finally found a familiar street. He forced his exhausted legs to carry him towards the single room where the child was, but in the distance, he saw billowing smoke and flickering red light. And the murmur of a crowd.

Yeonjo stopped and blinked.

“Didn’t they say two kids lived there?”

“Did they? I haven’t heard anything about that.”

“No, that old geezer was talking about it. Spitting and complaining about two skinny kids moving in.”

As Yeonjo got closer, the murmurs of the crowd grew louder. He saw the familiar building, now engulfed in flames.

The mass of red, burning structure was undoubtedly the building where he and the child had been staying.

Yeonjo stared blankly for a few seconds at the huge flames, radiating an intense heat that felt like it could burn his skin.

“Oh dear… did the kids get out?”

“How would I know!”

“This is terrible. What happened in the middle of the night?”

Yeonjo snapped out of his daze at the words of a neighbor standing nearby. His insides twisted and churned. His mind went blank, like the smoke billowing from the building.

“Fire… why is there a fire…”

Yeonjo barely managed to speak, his voice barely a whisper.

A fire? What about that child? What happened in the meantime? How did the fire even start?

Confusion quickly gave way to uncontrollable panic and despair. Yeonjo stared with trembling eyes at the building, a blazing red monster. Cement-colored smoke and black soot billowed into the air. They swirled around, carried by the wind, blurring his vision.

The thought of the child, who had greeted him that morning with the fresh scent of bubble gum, huddled inside that smoke, constricted his heart.

After being frozen for a few minutes, Yeonjo suddenly ran towards the flames. His mind was filled with a single thought: he had to go down to the basement.

“Hey, young man! Where are you going!”

“Who is that? Oh my god, why is he going in there?”

He heard voices trying to stop him from behind, but he didn’t stop. As he entered the entrance, where the flames were spreading further, the intense heat made it difficult to even breathe.

“Young man, come out of there!”

“Look at h-him! He’s crazy! The firetruck will be here soon, come back!”

“Hey, you’ll die!”

The smoke made it difficult to keep his eyes open. Yeonjo kept close to the areas where the fire hadn’t spread yet and ran down the basement stairs.

Crash! Crackle!

Glass shattered, and burning debris rained down around him. Jumping over a burning wooden beam that fell right in front of him, Yeonjo ran into the basement.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, the door was open.

“Ugh…!”

He opened his mouth to call out the child’s name, but Yeonjo had to think about what it was. Hoping the child was safe if he was still inside, he shouted with all his might.

“Baby! Are you here?”

The fire hadn’t spread as much in the basement compared to the ground floor. Yeonjo went into the small room, kicking and checking a burning closet, and even looked in the bathroom. But the child was nowhere to be seen.

Except for the areas where the furniture had been destroyed by the fire, there was nowhere else a person could be.

What if he’s still inside…?

Yeonjo coughed, thinking the ominous thought. His whole body stung as if boiling water had been poured over his skin.

“Rags! Cough, cough… Baby, where are you!”

Yeonjo shouted until his throat was raw, wiping away the tears streaming down his face. He frantically searched again around the bathroom and the pile of burnt clothes, avoiding the blazing flames, but he couldn’t hear anything.

Could he have escaped? He hoped so.

‘…Tomorrow. If you wait for me here, we’ll go out together tomorrow. Okay?’

‘S-See you l-later.’

‘You have to stay here quietly until I come back.’

‘Okay!’

No. That child would never have left this place. He was a child who followed whatever Yeonjo said as if it were gospel.

“No… please…”

Yeonjo muttered weakly. Tears blurred his vision, making it impossible to see anything.

The blazing monster before him was growing, opening its jaws to swallow him whole.

He felt nauseous and dizzy. The heat searing his skin felt like it was making the blood in his veins boil. His movements were getting slower and slower. Yeonjo stumbled, blinking his watery eyes.

In that great inferno, the child never appeared.