My Bloody Valentine - 33

As you go deep into the outskirts of Gyeonggi Province, you’ll come across Soro 3-ri, meaning ‘Hill of the Night.’ Located in the cheapest area of Soro 3-ri, the “Dream Nursery” was a small facility operated with government subsidies.

However, the money provided by the government didn’t significantly impact the lives of each child in the facility. It mainly filled the pockets of the director’s family.

The director of the nursery, along with their younger sibling who served as the general affairs manager, devised methods such as inflating the expenses for the children’s meals and purchases or registering their own unseen daughter and son as employees, increasing labor costs to embezzle most of the government subsidies.

To prevent such incidents, the government officials who should have conducted audits regularly were always occupied with other tasks. Since the gaze of scrutiny did not reach even the small nurseries in the rural areas, the director’s embezzlement knew no bounds.

The lack of proper care for the children, who barely had two meals a day, was evident in their appearance. Most of them looked thin and pale, especially those who hadn’t yet entered elementary school.

On a cold winter day with snow falling, Han, with a tag still attached, was abandoned in a baby box at a church. About a year later, he was transferred to the Dream Nursery.

While it was common for young babies to be easily adopted, Han’s story was different. Although he didn’t have any specific illness, he was born weak and had suffered from colds and diarrhea throughout the first year of his life.

Most people preferred a healthy-looking baby with rosy complexion rather than a baby making sniffling sounds with runny noses. Thus, Han struggled to find adoptive parents.

During his time at Dream Nursery, Han took his first steps and learned to speak. When Han turned five and began learning how to write his name, a one-year-younger boy named Jang Taesin arrived.

Taesin had lost his parents in a traffic accident and survived alone. Although he had a distant relative, they refused to take him, and Taesin ended up in this facility, guided by a social welfare worker.

Han and Taesin stuck to each other as if recognizing each other at first sight. They were so inseparable that the director jokingly called them ‘the two testicles.’ Han cared for Taesin like a young child cares for a baby doll. He fed Taesin the carrots he didn’t like and even taught him how to write his name with crooked letters.

Although the ‘태’ character in Taesin’s name was written as ‘테,’ Taesin happily copied Han’s way of writing. This care continued until Taesin’s height surpassed Han’s when he turned nine.

From then on, the situation reversed. Now that Taesin had grown bigger, he started taking care of Han.

In the midst of rough and aggressive children, Han was often pushed around. However, Han had Taesin by his side. Despite the considerable age difference due to a year’s worth of growth, Taesin was larger and stronger than a child several years older.

If anyone dared to bother Han or steal his snacks, that day became the troublemaker’s unlucky day. As time passed, it reached a point where nobody dared to touch Han anymore. As the director would say, they were indeed an unusual pair.

❖ ❖ ❖

“Thank you for the meal today as well.”

The children sang together, almost as if singing a song. The menu submitted to the local government for today’s meals included ‘rice, beef and seaweed soup, sausage and vegetable stir-fry, cucumber salad, kimchi.’ However, the plates had something completely different from rice.

In the murky soup, tofu floated instead of beef, the sausage was missing from the stir-fry, and the cucumber salad was replaced by a piece of cucumber and a dish of ssamjang placed in the middle of the table. The Chinese kimchi was so sour that it was almost unbearable to eat.

Fortunately, after entering elementary school, the children had the opportunity to eat school meals, helping them avoid malnutrition.

Han, feeling hungry, sat down and immediately scooped up a piece of tofu floating in the soup with a spoon. Soon, tears welled up in his eyes. A hand was extended in front of Han’s trembling legs under the table.

“Spit it out.”

With teary eyes, Han spat out what was in his mouth onto the extended palm. Taesin quickly handed him water, and the piece of tofu in Taesin’s hand blew softly before being put into his mouth.

“Ugh.”

A ten-year-old boy like Han, witnessing this, pretended to retch for a moment, then, feeling a glare from Taesin, turned his head away.

Han, using both hands, drank the water Taesin handed him, cooling the heat in his mouth caused by the hastily eaten tofu.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Taesin.”

After the meager meal, labor under the name of experiential activities awaited them.

In front of the three-story building with sleeping rooms for the children and the one-story building with a dining hall, referred to as a playground but unreasonably small, there was a small garden behind it.

In that garden, the children personally grew the ingredients for their meals. Of course, in the documents submitted to the local government, the full price for these ingredients was meticulously claimed. The director was a genius when it came to handling these matters. He didn’t waste even the children’s small labor.

“Hyung, move. I’ll help.”

Taesin, who had finished his assigned task, came over to Han. He pushed Han aside and started pulling out the weeds that Han was supposed to pull.

Han sat quietly next to Taesin. When Han pulled them, the weeds, which had only been torn before, were easily pulled out by Taesin, revealing deep roots like ginseng.

Speaking like talking to himself, Han said, staring at Taesin, “Why doesn’t it go away?”

“Weeds?”

“No.”

What Han was silently watching was not a weed boasting impressive vitality but a scar on Taesin’s knee. Almost a whole season had passed, yet there was no sign of it disappearing. Taesin, casually shrugging, said, “It’s okay even if it doesn’t go away in my lifetime.”

About two months ago, overripe peaches had come in a box as donated items. Squishy and mashed peaches were served one by one as snacks on the plates.

Watching the children lick the sweet juice flowing down to their elbows, Han looked outside. He had a peach allergy, so he couldn’t eat them. However, having an allergy didn’t mean he didn’t want to eat.

Taesin followed Han, sitting down with a sulky expression. Next to the ten-year-old Han, the nine-year-old Taesin took a seat.

Taesin thought of a way to comfort Han, and suddenly noticed a persimmon tree with fruits planted in one corner of the playground.

“Shall I pick those persimmons for you?”

At those words, Han’s gaze followed where Taesin’s index finger was pointing. On a giant persimmon tree easily exceeding 5 meters in height, orange fruits were tantalizingly ripe.

“It’s too high. How can we pick…”

Without responding, Taesin stood up as if to show that he would demonstrate. Then, he started climbing the tree like a monkey.

“Hey, Jang Taesin! Come down! It’s too high!”

“It’s okay. I can do it.”

“Ugh, I told you to come down!”

While Taesin, who had climbed up, seemed unfazed, Han, even more scared, trembled uncontrollably.

Taesin bit down on the toothpick and reached his hand towards the ripest and most beautiful persimmon. At that moment, a bird sitting on the tree flew away, making a chirping sound, startling Taesin, causing him to drop the branch he was holding. He lost his balance and fell to the ground.

“Taesin!”

As Taesin fell to the ground, his knee hit the rough bark of the tree, tearing the flesh as it landed. Blood poured endlessly.

“Teacher! Headmaster! Help, please! Headmaster!”

Han, almost on the verge of passing out, called desperately for the headmaster.

Despite the clear need for stitches, the headmaster, scolding Taesin for climbing the tree, quickly applied antiseptic to Taesin’s knee and wrapped it with a bandage, completing a simple first aid prescription.

Han’s eyes were soaked with tears.

Taesin had learned at school that over half of the human body is made up of water, and if the water is insufficient, one could die. What if Han died pouring water endlessly from his eyes? Taesin was more worried about that.

Even while falling from the tree, Taesin eventually succeeded in picking the persimmon and handed it to Han. Han received the persimmon gratefully, wiped it with his sleeve, and took a bite. Han’s face quickly turned into a frown.

“Why? Is it not tasty?”

Taesin brought the persimmon to himself and took a bite. The persimmon was so bitter that it made his hands and feet curl. Han’s expression as he looked down at the persimmon was comical.

Feeling unjust and angry that Taesin had been hurt just to pick a bitter persimmon, Han burst into tears again, as if for the first time. Taesin, in an attempt to comfort Han, momentarily forgot about the pain in his knee.

Han obtained a tube of ointment from the administrative teacher and applied it to Taesin’s wound every day.

While Taesin’s wound healed quickly, the scar remained. Dark-colored scars formed where the flesh had peeled off and reattached.

Han carefully cut off the flattened part of the ointment with scissors, squeezing out a small amount like a drop of ant’s tears. Now, he applied the ointment to Taesin’s scar.

“It’s not disappearing… the scar.”

Taesin looked down at the scar on his knee with a proud expression, as if seeing a medal.

“Well, what does it matter? It looks cool, right? Look, it’s like a V shape.”

“Yeah. It even looks like a very slender heart.”

“Yeah, let’s call it a heart shape then.”

Taesin enjoyed the feeling of Han’s slender fingers diligently applying the ointment, which would have little effect. When he looked down at his knee, Han felt a tickling sensation somewhere in his mouth. If it was for Han, it seemed okay to have an even bigger scar.

Like there are stars in the sky and flowers blooming on the ground, it was natural for them to be together. They were that kind of relationship.

It seemed that nothing in the world could separate them.