Chapter 112
When Stars Begin to Emerge
“Dokkaebi sir. Dr. Hong-salgwi is here. You must be hungry, please have dinner.”
Dr. Hong’s voice came from beyond the wall.
Eun-hwi paused momentarily at the savory beef broth smell, then continued scrubbing the wooden floor with a dry cloth as if nothing had happened. The small hand gripping the cloth left a gleaming shine wherever it passed.
The spotless veranda clearly displayed Eun-hwi’s diligence. Despite being battered in body and spirit, he hadn’t neglected cleaning the house.
“Dokkaebi sir. Please come out and eat before it gets cold. Today I’ve specially prepared a clear beef soup. Made with the finest Korean beef shank, the broth is incredibly refreshing. It’s the perfect dish for this seasonal change. I’ve also made oyster pancakes with freshly caught oysters for a side dish.”
Despite being ignored repeatedly, Dr. Hong persisted in trying to persuade Eun-hwi. The aroma of golden-fried oyster pancakes tantalized the half-dokkaebi’s nose.
Liar.
He had claimed to be hopeless at cooking and never set foot in the kitchen.
Eun-hwi was irritated with Dr. Hong for trying to lure him out with food that was undoubtedly prepared by Yeo Moon-beom. And he was equally annoyed with Yeo Moon-beom, who was surely hiding somewhere, staring intently at the firmly closed gate.
“Dokkaebi sir. Hunger makes one as lonely and sad as cold does. I’ll leave this at your door, so please eat it. And sleep well on the warm floor. You’ll feel better in time.”
Before meeting Yeo Moon-beom, he had been less lonely even when hungry.
Though separated, Gabi had always been by his side, and he had always looked forward to tomorrow with the hope of becoming human.
Liar.
He could no longer believe Dr. Hong’s words. Eun-hwi headed to the washroom instead of the gate. Then, as if venting his frustration, he vigorously pounded the dirty cloth with a washing paddle.
Thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack!
Thwack…
At some point, the white, slender hand holding the washing paddle went limp. A large teardrop fell onto the back of the hand gripping the handle. His stubbornly closed lips trembled.
“Hic…”
Bursting into tears from overwhelming sadness had become his daily routine.
The half-dokkaebi buried his head between his knees, curling up with his back rounded. If he didn’t do this, the sound of his heart crumbling would leak beyond the walls.
“Hnnng. Hic…”
He had merely returned to his former self from a few months ago—waking in the afternoon after sleeping through the morning, taking care of household chores every day. Back to the time when he lived resolutely alone, waiting for Gabi’s eventual return.
Though this wasn’t his first experience with loneliness, it felt unfamiliar as if he’d never been alone before. The fact that he belonged nowhere, that he was a true outsider, felt especially sorrowful and unbearable.
If only he hadn’t known.
He couldn’t remember how he had spent those dark nights alone until now. All he could recall were memories of eating freshly cooked meals while chatting on the wooden platform, or watching TV while leaning against a broad chest.
‘If you want to become human, stay away from humans. Don’t get close to anyone, don’t give your heart to anyone. That’s your only way to survive.’
“What should I do now, Father? I need to become human quickly… Only then can I meet my father… Hic.”
Having given too much of his heart to one human, it seemed impossible to become human himself now. Eun-hwi curled up even smaller, hiding his tear-stained face.
He despised himself for carelessly disobeying his father’s words and accepting an enemy. He wanted to rush out, open the door, and demand to know why Yeo Moon-beom had deceived him, with a voice sharp with hatred.
“Director Yeo is deeply regretful. This man who never showed his true feelings is now speaking vulnerably in front of me. Dokkaebi sir, only the dead remain unchanged; people are always evolving. I won’t dare ask for your forgiveness. Instead, I beg you to eat the dinner left outside. If you continue starving yourself like this, something terrible will happen. Please, even if it’s just one bite.”
Dr. Hong pleaded desperately. But Eun-hwi had no appetite and didn’t want to eat anything. Despite having consumed only dew containing Wolhwa Mountain’s energy for nearly a month, he felt no hunger.
Finally giving up, Dr. Hong’s footsteps could be heard trudging down the mountain back to the village.
The half-dokkaebi, who had been sobbing while swallowing his grief, finally stopped crying and headed to the wooden platform.
To wish upon the moon.
“Moon, I miss my father. Please let him appear in my dreams…”
He sat blankly, looking up at the sky now engulfed in darkness, muttering. Not greedily asking to meet him immediately, but pleading to see him even in dreams. Wishing again and again.
But the moon, cruelly hiding behind clouds, did not show itself for even a moment, as if it had no intention of granting his wish.
Eun-hwi wiped his endlessly flowing tears with his sleeve, until finally he fell asleep from exhaustion.
“…I’m sorry, Eun-hwi.”
A transparent figure that had been lingering nearby revealed itself the moment Eun-hwi fell asleep. It was Yeo Moon-beom wearing a dokkaebi cap.
He took off his jacket and covered Eun-hwi’s body. Though he wanted to cool the swollen eyelids with his hand, he had to restrain himself, fearing uncontrollable consequences if discovered sneaking in.
Unable to caress the cheek marked with tear stains, his tightly clenched fist swayed emptily in the air.
Whether it was due to the authority granted to the winner of the bet, or because some dokkaebi power still remained in his body, he could enter Hwichukdang without the ring for reasons unknown. So Yeo Moon-beom would put on the dokkaebi cap after Eun-hwi fell asleep, enter the house, and stare at the gaunt face for hours.
‘Please listen to me, Eun-hwi.’
‘Shut up! You lying traitor!’
‘I promised to help you become human. Let me at least keep that promise.’
‘I’ll find a way on my own. Don’t get involved, Yeo Moon-beom!’
He had knelt at the gate day and night, seeking an opportunity to explain and apologize for his lies.
Some days he couldn’t even approach due to dokkaebi fire surrounding the entire house; other days he spent clearing piles of gravel from the path without getting to say a word.
After several days, he realized that even this was hurting Eun-hwi.
‘You can’t rid yourself of the mud accumulated in your heart unless you expel it. So instead of forcibly lifting up someone who has fallen, wait for them to expel everything and ask for forgiveness. Understand, Director Yeo?’
Forcing open a closed heart would only backfire. So Yeo Moon-beom stayed on Wolhwa Island, postponing his revenge to monitor Eun-hwi’s increasingly emaciated condition.
He bought time using the Cultural Heritage Protection Act, which required construction to halt immediately upon discovery of artifacts. Though Jang Gitae fumed and nagged daily, it didn’t matter to him.
“Mmm…”
Eun-hwi shifted slightly, seeming uncomfortable in his curled-up position. Yeo Moon-beom carefully extended his hand to cover the exposed shoulder with the jacket to prevent a cold.
“…”
Had the night always been this quiet?
Had the moonless sky always been this lonely?
‘…Goodbye, Yeo Moon-beom.’
For Yeo Moon-beom, farewells had always been like amputations.
The fact that he could no longer be special to Eun-hwi, that they had become less than strangers, was unbearably painful.
Intense regret pooled in his eyes.
He deeply hated himself for destroying someone who should have been preciously protected with both hands, like a noble gem found in a pile of sand.
It had been wrong from the beginning to try to control the young dokkaebi, despite his own fierce dislike of being controlled by others. Yeo Moon-beom trembled at his own cunning, having practiced deception to achieve his goals while knowing full well that confinement without respect only breeds rebellion.
If possible, he wished to turn back time to the day he first set foot on this island.
No, he wanted to go back to the day of his final bet with the jangseung dokkaebi and ask about its true meaning.
Because then Eun-hwi wouldn’t have been hurt at all.
“…What must I do to make you eat? What must I do to make you stop crying?”
Like in the dokkaebi tale where one is consumed by anger and becomes a dueoksini, he wished Eun-hwi would pour all his resentment onto him.
Instead of suffering alone, ruminating over the past as he was now.
“It’s okay to hate me. But…”
Yeo Moon-beom brought his fingertips to the moist cheek. Caressing the wet skin with his heart from that almost-touching distance, he quietly whispered into the sleeping half-dokkaebi’s ear:
“Just don’t hate yourself, Eun-hwi.”
These emotions were too overwhelming for such a small and delicate child to bear alone. Therefore, he prayed earnestly that Eun-hwi would regain his past smile that had sparkled at every moment, while willingly accepting all responsibility himself.
“Mmm…”
Eun-hwi unconsciously turned his head and adjusted his sleeping position. With the sudden movement, the watch on his wrist lightly brushed against his skin.
Flinching, as if recognizing the contact, he reflexively curled up his body that had been surrendered to deep sleep, while his downcast eyelashes trembled faintly.
Yeo Moon-beom quickly got up, removing the jacket he had placed over Eun-hwi, and watched the situation from a distance to avoid being detected.
Hoping that Eun-hwi would go inside rather than continue sleeping outdoors in the cold wind.
“…Yeo Moon-beom?”
The half-dokkaebi woke up, feeling the familiar energy along with the cold touch on his skin, sensing the void left by the wind that had carried away even the lingering scent.
Why had he awakened calling his name when there was no trace of Yeo Moon-beom anywhere?
It seems that memories rooted in the body cannot be easily erased. Deliberately shaking his head, he raised his body from its reclined position. It was a bit strange that his body, which should have been cold, was surprisingly warm, but he attributed it to a fever from crying so much.
And so Eun-hwi turned around, listening to the distant sound of waves.
Though it wasn’t raining, his face was again wet with falling droplets, suggesting some dokkaebi mischief was occurring somewhere without his knowledge.
* * *
The season changed once more, days growing shorter and nights longer. The time when the power of ghosts strengthens had arrived.
Eun-hwi still refused meals prepared by Yeo Moon-beom and wouldn’t show himself before Professor Bang Ki-bong.
The depth of regret shadowing Yeo Moon-beom’s heart grew even deeper.
If only Eun-hwi would look at him again. If he would smile at him just once more, Yeo Moon-beom vowed to love him with everything he had. He endured the mercilessly passing time with this promise.
The problem was the development of Wolhwa Island.
Even after driving the troublesome villagers off the island, Jang Gitae’s patience was also wearing thin as the discovery of cultural artifacts hindered their plans.
Finally, Jang Gitae, furious to his core, sent someone to Wolhwa Island without warning. His loyal servant and symbiotic partner, the Black Fox, appeared before Yeo Moon-beom to deliver a message personally.
“It’s been a while, Lord Moon-beom.”
The Black Fox, who had entered the construction site with the director of the Cultural Heritage Administration, scanned Yeo Moon-beom’s face with peculiar amethyst-colored eyes. A yin energy incomparable to the White Fox’s clung to his spine.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
