MPK Ch 18
by soapaBaekyeon stared at the sleeping Jung Hankyung, digging his nails into the back of his own hand. While Hankyung, battered and bruised, wore a peaceful expression as if lost in a tranquil sleep, Baekyeon’s face was pale.
There was a time I wished you wouldn’t wake up.
I guess I’m being punished for that selfish thought.
I wish the punishment would fall on me, but like any proper punishment, it targeted the place that hurt the most.
The ambulance arrived at the hospital, and Hankyung was transferred from the stretcher to a bed.
The doctor examined Hankyung’s leg and took him into the operating room. Baekyeon remained silent, his gaze fixed on Hankyung. When the operating room doors finally closed, he collapsed onto the floor, his muscles giving way.
He always wore this expression when he was helpless.
He buried his face in his hands, his skin rough with the grime from the mountain. His mind slowly sank into a dark abyss.
Like self-harm inflicted on the person he hated most in the world, Baekyeon confronted a memory he desperately wanted to avoid.
Sent to England at thirteen, Woo Baekyeon secured university admission five years later. He followed the instructions of the tutors his grandfather assigned him like a puppet. The expressionless child never complained about wanting to play like other kids his age. On the contrary, he seemed to resist any activity involving interaction with others.
Baekyeon was a flower grown in a greenhouse built just for him, nurtured with every supplement imaginable, protected from even the slightest disturbance. He had never once lost his perfectly pruned form. That’s why he didn’t look forward to the future. He knew he would remain the same, even as an adult, even as he grew older.
The university he was supposed to attend was in England, just like his high school. But at eighteen, just before his enrollment, his grandfather suddenly summoned him back to Korea.
“Attend a Korean school, at least for a year.”
“…….”
Honestly, he didn’t want to. He didn’t understand his grandfather’s reasoning after forcing him through five years of grueling study, enough to skip a grade. But because he didn’t want to understand even a fraction of his grandfather’s thoughts…
“Yes.”
He replied.
It took three hours for Woo Baekyeon, the transfer student in Class 2-2 of Gosan High School, to become known as the grandson of Chairman Woo Wonchul of the Woosung Group. Another three hours to become someone other students wanted to befriend. Two days to be labeled as an arrogant jerk who ignored everyone. Three days for rumors to spread: “Is there something wrong with him?”
In the eyes of his classmates, Baekyeon’s “odd behavior” was as follows: He didn’t respond to greetings or only answered with curt replies. He always left school at 3 PM, even walking out of class mid-lesson without being stopped by the teacher.
There were also rumors that he was undergoing some strange heir training, then eating snacks bought from cheap restaurants or convenience stores after leaving school early.
Baekyeon, the subject of everyone’s curiosity, was constantly on edge.
He knew his worth, a worth he had never desired. The eldest grandson of Chairman Woo Wonchul. A child who had inherited the full weight of his parents’ power.
It was the reason people targeted him, and also the wall that protected him. Even in a school where power was distributed amongst its own hierarchy, no one dared to touch the arrogant transfer student. Baekyeon floated through life, detached and untouchable.
After school, he would wander around until just before sunset. Whether this was sanctioned by his grandfather or not, his secretaries turned a blind eye to his short walks. Of course, they were positioned close enough to rush to his side at a moment’s notice.
School was exhausting, filled with too many people. And the mansion… was where he had been kidnapped. For Baekyeon, it was a place of even greater unease than school.
But when the sun set, he had no choice but to return to the light, so every day, after entering his room, he barricaded the door with his desk and chair. He ate whatever he had bought during his wanderings.
He only ate at the dining table when he had meals with his grandfather. Then, at least, he was safe from any schemes.
‘I wish this would end soon.’
Baekyeon thought as he walked along the cracked asphalt. His grandfather had ordered him to attend school for a year. He had only been to a dozen or so classes. The season was still the same as when he first arrived. He desperately wished it would all be over soon.
The question arose: Until when?
Would it be over when he returned abroad after a year? Would it be over after completing the plans laid out for him, after joining one of Woosung’s companies, after starting his career?
He no longer knew what “over” even meant. The therapist assigned to him would often ask: Have you ever thought about dying?
Baekyeon always shook his head. Not because he enjoyed life, but because he didn’t know how he should die. Following a predetermined routine was easier than making such a complicated calculation.
So when, where would he finally feel like he had arrived?
Lost in thought, he stopped walking. He had wandered into an unfamiliar alley. He usually chose well-lit paths, but this area was unusually dark.
His left hand started throbbing. He looked around and turned towards a slightly brighter path.
“It’s still Seoul. I’ll reach a main road soon… It’s okay. It’s not sunset yet.”
He muttered to himself like a child hearing a ghost story for the first time. But fear quickly caught up, looming over him.
“Huh…”
Whatever thoughts had occupied him while walking vanished instantly.
Consumed by fear, even running was impossible. He forced himself to move, emerging into the sunlight.
But a bigger problem arose. He had simply followed the sunlight and now had no idea where he was. The scenery grew increasingly unfamiliar. He had to admit it. He was lost. It was time to contact his secretaries and bodyguards.
He might be forbidden from even his short walks after this. Baekyeon accepted this as the inevitable consequence of his actions. His walks were the only thing he enjoyed since returning to Korea. But as always, there wasn’t much he could control, no matter his preferences.
He turned his head towards the narrow sidewalk. A young brother and sister were walking hand-in-hand, their steps full of youthful energy.
Their cheerful chatter broke the silence of the alley. They seemed much braver than him. Then Baekyeon’s eyes widened.
A black van was slowly following the children.
‘No way…’
The mere thought made him freeze, his shoulders shaking as nausea welled up. He knew he had to stop them. He took a shaky breath, and as he was about to step forward…
“Hey.”
An arm suddenly draped over his shoulder. Startled, Baekyeon gasped, catching a whiff of summer. The warm touch on his shoulder, the scent of dry earth, and the shampoo from damp hair.
He turned to see a boy, quite a bit taller than him.
“Isn’t that… weird?”
“…….”
“Tsk, why are they lurking around those kids?”
Baekyeon realized the boy was thinking the same thing. But his fear-stricken mouth wouldn’t move, so he frantically nodded, a small, jerky movement despite all the strength he put into his neck.
The van pulled over to the side of the road. It didn’t move until the children had passed and were a safe distance away.
“Hmm?”
A voice, still carrying a hint of childhood despite having gone through puberty, echoed beside him.
“What, it was nothing, I guess.”
“Ah…”
Thank goodness. Baekyeon closed his eyes, his racing heart slowly calming down.
“Hey, sorry. I’ve been watching a lot of action movies lately. You…”
Jung Hankyung. That’s what the name tag, tilted at an angle by the arm slung over his shoulder, said. A boy with bright, expressive eyes and a cheerful smile. His scent and voice evoked the image of sun-drenched greenery. Unlike Baekyeon, his dark eyes blinked.
“Wo… wow. You’re really… pretty…”
“Help me!!! Someone help!!!”
“Noona! Waaaaah!!!”
Screams and cries erupted. Two children were being dragged away by three men. Their cries were muffled by large hands covering their mouths. They were pulled into the shadows of a van with its doors wide open.
A ringing filled Baekyeon’s ears, his vision turning red. The broken bones in his left hand began to ache, like when he was trapped in the darkness.
“Ah, no…”
Suddenly, the arm around his shoulder shoved him forward.
“Call the police!”
As Baekyeon stumbled, regaining his balance, the boy, Jung Hankyung, was running towards the van, baseball bat in hand. He swung, smashing the windshield of the van as it tried to pull away from the curb.
Crash! The sound of shattering glass, screams, curses, commotion, cries, and honking horns all merged and exploded in his head. The world spun. He realized he had fallen to the ground.
“What are you doing! Why are you taking those kids! Let them go!”
The boy, who had bravely stopped the van, was surrounded by the men who had emerged from the vehicle. He had dropped his bat, and it rolled away.
No.
No…!
“Ugh… uh… ah…!”
While everything was happening so fast, Baekyeon’s own time seemed to have stopped. He had to help, he had to move, he had to do something, anything, please, ah…! His trembling hands fumbled in his pockets, and his phone slipped out, falling to the ground.
“Gasp… uh… huh… ugh…!”
His hands were shaking too much to even pick it up, let alone dial.
Move, please. If I’m useless like this, those children, that boy, will end up like me.
“Huah, ah!”
He finally managed to grab his phone with both hands. It was a stroke of luck that his bodyguard’s call came through just then. Unable to hold the phone to his ear, he pressed the speaker button and lowered his head to the ground, bringing the phone closer to his mouth.
“Qu, quickly, here. Here, ah, alley. Gasp, ugh…!”
Just as the kidnappers raised their fists, the sound of running footsteps approached from behind. His bodyguards had arrived. Two of them helped Baekyeon to his feet, while the others rushed towards the scene where the boy was struggling with the kidnappers.
“Young Master, are you alright?”
“Huh… uh… huh…”
The children were rescued by his bodyguards. Jung Hankyung, too, was thankfully saved before being seriously harmed.
Shortly after, police cars and an ambulance arrived. Baekyeon checked the stretchers, worried about the children. But it was the boy, pale and clutching his shoulder, who was being loaded into the ambulance.
💍
“He was a student aiming to become a professional baseball player, but it seems he will have to retire due to a shoulder injury. He was apparently quite a talented player.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
“…….”
Baekyeon put down his chopsticks. His grandfather’s secretary continued.
“The Junghwa Ilbo seems to be portraying him as a hero. …If you’re concerned, we could offer him a scholarship through WS Cheetahs.”
The chairman’s gaze shifted to Baekyeon, seated to his right. His grandson’s left hand, covered in scars, trembled slightly.
“Do that. So the student… he can’t use his arm at all?”
“It depends on his rehabilitation. Students of that caliber often dedicate themselves solely to sports from a young age, so the psychological impact of losing their dream might be even greater.”
Baekyeon remembered the arm around his shoulder, the scent of earth, the slightly tanned face. The face in his memory was quite handsome, and with his baseball skills, he probably would have been very popular.
He thought the boy was a hero, living in a completely different world from his own. He might be injured for a while, but he would eventually recover.
But he was just like Baekyeon.
He looked down at his left hand. Perhaps that boy, too, would crumble and fall.
Loss is painful, and rehabilitation is agonizing. Even now, at eighteen, Woo Baekyeon couldn’t bear the six-year-old wound. It would be difficult for that boy to endure such a sudden tragedy.
It was a big deal. It’s understandable.
“…….”
Woo Baekyeon, indulging in his pathetic self-deception, bit his lip hard.
‘I wish you wouldn’t recover.’
He wished the boy’s injury could serve as an excuse, proof that it was a wound even someone as strong as him couldn’t overcome.
If he recovered after such a serious injury, after losing his dream…
Then Baekyeon, still trapped in his nightmare, would look even more pathetic.
He turned away from the news about the “brave baseball boy” that was making headlines. His grandfather, the chairman, allowed him to stay home from school, sending the therapist more frequently instead.
“I don’t want to die.”
“Is there a reason that comes to mind?”
I want to see him again.
No, I don’t want to know anything.
Baekyeon kept his conflicted feelings locked away.
But the bright light eventually pierced through the darkness.
The boy’s face contorted with pain during his rehabilitation sessions, but his eyes held no hint of surrender.
After each session, he would grin, wiping his sweat-drenched face with a towel.
He groaned but pushed himself up, gritting his teeth, ready for another round.
Finally, completely exhausted, he collapsed on the floor, laughing heartily. His laughter was infectious, spreading to the doctor and nurses around him.
Watching him through the glass wall of the rehabilitation room, Baekyeon felt a surge of tears.
Don’t shine.
Don’t steal my gaze, stuck in the mud.
Don’t show me someone like you. I don’t want to admire you, to find the strength to stand up.
Baekyeon, who had remained seated, afraid of falling again, hated this feeling, this fluttering in his chest.
There was a time I wished you wouldn’t wake up.
Because if you couldn’t recover, then neither could I. If even someone as strong as you couldn’t endure it, how could I?
Baekyeon continued to stare at the glass wall until Hankyung’s rehabilitation session ended, and the room was empty. After a long while, he turned to his secretary.
“How much cash can I access without Grandfather’s permission?”
“About 300 million won.”
“…The Junghwa Ilbo is collecting donations, right? Send it through them.”
He had begged him not to shine, but his plea had been ignored. In the end, Woo Baekyeon had to look away to avoid being blinded.
“I’m returning to England next month. Grandfather won’t object, will he?”
The scent of summer wafted from beyond the glass wall.
Woo Baekyeon recalled the question he hadn’t been able to answer.
Why didn’t you want to die?
He didn’t want to die like this, living a half-life. He hated pity, but even in his own eyes, this ending, this life lived in the shadows, was too pathetic. He had barely lived at all…
If I could shine, just once…
I wish that moment could be in front of you.
“Jung Hankyung.”
He whispered the name that had pushed him back towards life, resentment and grief mixing in his voice. His usually expressionless face crumpled, a sob escaping his lips.
Time, frozen in the cabin at twelve, began to move again at eighteen. The rust that had covered the stopped hands of the clock fell away, a painful shedding.
His tears continued long after he had regained his composure, his face a mask of indifference once more.
Until the green scent, the scent of summer, reached him.
“Director.”
Baekyeon lifted his head from the bench in front of the operating room. Secretary Shin Kanghee’s face was etched with fatigue, but her eyes shone with emotion as she looked at him.
He checked his watch. 11:40 PM. He wasn’t afraid of being outside at this hour. He might not be able to face complete darkness yet, but he could endure it longer now.
“He’s been taken to the detention center.”
The fight after Hankyung’s actions was Baekyeon’s responsibility.
“Let’s begin preparing for the trial.”
“Yes.”
Baekyeon closed his eyes, then opened them.
He had followed a blinding light, and it had led him here. Everything he wanted to give to Hankyung, Hankyung had already given to him, unknowingly.
“When he gets out, no one will be able to touch Jung Hankyung, or me, ever again.”