As True as a Dream Chapter 126

Hae-Joo looked around and strained her ears.

She hoped to hear any sound—any sign that Yi Ho had gone to fight Man Insa.

But there was no sound, no indication that the fight was over or that he had gone too far.

She wondered if he was okay.

Even if he was strong enough to take down dozens of Japanese soldiers single-handedly, he was very sick now.

 

Hae-Joo paced restlessly in place, then began to walk aimlessly down the long maze of alleyways.

What started as a slow walk quickly turned into a fast walk, then a light trot, then a full sprint.

As she ran until she was out of breath, her heart pounded with anxiety.

 

“Hmph! Hmph! Hmph!”

 

Hae-Joo ran over roads that looked both familiar and unfamiliar, searching for Yi Ho.

It wasn’t long before she spotted a man leaning against a wall in the corner of a back alleyway, under a dim full moon obscured by clouds. She stopped in her tracks.

 

It was the shadow of a fox at his feet.

 

It was Yi Ho!

 

Convinced it was him, Hae-Joo hurried over and crouched down in front of him.

She reached out and cupped his cheeks, lifting his drooping head.

The brazier-like heat in her hands only deepened her worry.

 

“Boss! Boss…? Open your eyes—are you okay?”

 

She asked in a trembling voice, peering into his face. Slowly, he opened his tightly closed eyes.

She could see her own reflection in his golden gaze.

 

“Hae-Joo….”

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“Hae-Joo, I’m sick.”

 

His voice was uncharacteristically thin and weak. Hae-Joo bit the inside of her lip.

 

“Can you get up? Or can you lean on me and…”

 

“Hae-Joo.”

 

He called her name again.

She tugged on his arm to throw it over her shoulder, but he wouldn’t budge.

 

“I missed you.”

 

Hae-Joo’s hand froze as she tried to pull him up once more.

 

“Hae-Joo… don’t leave me.”

 

Yi Ho whimpered, his head drooping again as Hae-Joo pulled her hand away.

 

“Hae-Joo, I’m sorry I’m not… human.”

 

Hae-Joo was stunned by his unexpected words.

‘Sorry for not being human? That… that wasn’t his fault.’

You don’t get to choose when, where, or whose child you’re born as.

 

“Don’t hate me.”

 

For some reason, she felt like crying as she listened to him spill out words as if drunk or delirious with fever.

She had only thought of herself—how he had deceived her.

Why hadn’t she considered that he might be in pain? That this was hard for him, too?

 

“Hae-Joo….”

 

“Okay, let’s just get up and go to…”

 

Hae-Joo tried to stand, blinking away the searing ache in her chest.

She reached around, searching for something to help him up.

But as if he thought her movement meant she was leaving, his hand shot out and gripped her wrist tightly.

 

She let the force pull her back down, squatting in front of him again.

Exhaling a ragged breath, he rested his heavy forehead against her shoulder.

 

“Hae-Joo….”

 

He called her name once more, plaintive, desperate.

Then, in a voice so fragile it sounded like a dying candle:

 

“Will you… will you… will you love me?”

 

Hae-Joo was dazed.

 

“Love me.”

 

He repeated it, smaller this time, as if clinging to a final hope.

 

Hae-Joo stiffened.

‘Love me?’

 

She felt his feverish heat against her shoulder, his uneven breaths.

He wasn’t asking her to stay.

He was begging her to love him.

 

As if he had never been loved in all his life.

 

— “There was once an illegitimate child in the Ban family, a child that the noble lady of the house bore without knowing who the father was. His name was Ban Yi Ho. Because the child was considered a disgrace, the lady was hanged from a beam, and the boy was thrown into a back room where the servants raised him like an animal.”

 

The words of an old man from the village echoed in her mind.

 

— “Rumor has it the child was born of a fox. From what I’ve heard, he was raised as less than human—less than an animal. He must have left home as soon as he could. Poor thing.”

 

A bastard child, treated worse than an animal.

Her guess was that it had to be Yi Ho.

 

“Will you please love me? Please love me. Please love me.”

 

His raspy, broken voice rang in her ears.

Hae-Joo’s heart twisted into knots.

 

All she had cared about was that he was a Gumiho, that he had lied to her, and the uncertainty between them.

She never stopped to think what she might mean to him.

She only questioned whether his feelings were real or if he was using her.

 

“…Maybe you’re just this selfish, Hae-Joo?” Hae-Joo muttered to herself.

A tear slipped free before she could stop it.

 

Slowly, she raised her hand and cradled Yi Ho’s head against her shoulder.

 

‘How can I like someone else when I can’t even like myself?’

 

Once, when she had asked if he liked her, he had said that so casually.

The man who claimed he didn’t know how to love had confessed to her, had dreamed of a future together.

She thought it was natural—just deepening feelings between lovers.

But not for Yi Ho.

 

This man who spoke as if he’d never been loved.

This man who said he’d never liked anyone before.

 

Maybe loving someone was harder for him than for anyone else.

But he had tried.

He had bared his heart to her.

 

And she had pushed him away.

 

Just because he wasn’t human.

 

Was that right?

 

Hae-Joo hugged him tighter, then sniffed and pulled back.

‘It’s never too late to think—once we’re out of here.’

 

She tried to lift him again, but her hand brushed against something wet.

 

“What is that…?”

 

She lifted her fingers to the moonlight.

Her face paled.

 

Blood.

 

Crimson and glistening.

 

Panicked, she pushed Yi Ho against the wall and frantically checked his clothes.

His black jacket hung open, and his white shirt was stained dark near his stomach.

 

“Ah… ah… what do I do?!”

 

She didn’t know how bad it was, but he was bleeding heavily.

Her hands shook.

She couldn’t breathe, terrified he might die at any moment.

 

“Boss, are you hurt? Where? Open your eyes…!”

 

Tears blurred her vision.

Crying wouldn’t help, but she was so scared her head spun.

 

“Boss, ah, what can I do…? Wait, can I get a taxi…? No, can you get on my back…?”

 

She turned, trying to lift him, but a weak hand stopped her.

 

“…No.”

 

She turned back. Yi Ho leaned against the wall, his gaze slightly clearer but still hazy.

 

“…It’s okay. It’ll heal. You know that.”

 

His words were slow, labored. Hae-Joo lifted his shirt to check the wound.

She remembered how quickly the burns on his hands had healed before.

The gash on his stomach was closing—slowly, but surely.

 

“Thank God… Thank God….”

 

She muttered in relief.

At least he was a creature that could heal.

At least he wouldn’t die from this.

 

But then it hit her.

 

Even with this ability… he was still dying.

His illness wasn’t something he could recover from.

 

Kaaaak-!

 

A sharp cawing sound cut through the night from above.