Small and Fragile Things - Chapter 22

A designer baby.

She didn’t know who came up with the term—but just hearing it was enough to make the girl understand exactly what she was.

It was like someone finally scratched an itch she could never reach. Strangely relieving.

But just because she understood what she was didn’t mean her scheduled surgery was canceled. No one cared that she had sunk into a despair so deep it couldn’t be measured.

That day, the girl went through with the surgery—and spent days hovering between life and death from the aftermath.

Somehow, miraculously, she survived. And the very first thing she did once her mind cleared… was plan an escape.

She wanted to live. That was all.

But someone who knew nothing about the world had no chance of getting away. Her attempt failed miserably—and the punishment was cruel. The tiny sliver of freedom she’d been given was revoked. After a few more rebellious outbursts, she was thrown into a room with no windows.

It was around then that her wish changed.

All she wanted now was to have one good memory to hold on to before she died.

Just one—something warm enough to take with her. Even a dream would do. She prayed to the god who had abandoned her, begging for just one memory worth keeping.

Time passed.

And the girl became a woman.

“I’m Park Eun-young. I’ll be in charge of overseeing things here from now on.”

Irang had stopped counting her age after twenty. There wasn’t much point when the place she lived in had no sense of time—no seasons, no calendar, no way to tell one year from the next.

“Irang. You should know by now that nothing’s going to change, no matter what you do.”

Maybe it was the time she got caught stealing an access card—or maybe one of the many times she’d been drowning in depression. Either way, Park Eun-young had said it with the most bored, fed-up expression.

“Just accept your fate.”

Fate. She said it so casually, as if she didn’t know how brutal that word could be.

Whenever Irang screamed that she never asked for this life, Park would just scoff and say most people don’t get to live the life they want anyway. And if she raged and begged to be killed instead? Park Eun-young would wave her off with a cold, “That’s not my department.”

She was a harsh woman. But at least she had one redeeming quality—she was honest.

She was the one who explained what a “designed baby” actually was. No sugarcoating. No attempt to soften the blow.

A child created through selective genetics to treat a sibling with a rare disease.

That was Irang’s fate.

Her parents had conceived their son out of love. But when he was diagnosed with a rare disorder, they needed a compatible donor. So they “made” another child for that purpose.

In other words, Irang was a spare. A living organ bank.

From infancy, she underwent countless bone marrow extractions, stem cell harvests, catheter insertions, recovery therapies… so many injections that there weren’t even veins left to use. Oh, and they’d taken a kidney, too.

Would it have killed them to say thank you?

If they had treated her like family, like a daughter, if they had shown her even the tiniest bit of love… she would’ve given more. Willingly.

Why did they lock me up like this? I’m human too. You made me!

But she was never given the right or even the chance to question that cruel fate.

One day, a thought struck her, and she asked.

“Who gave me my name?”

“Huh?”

“What does ‘Illy’ even mean?”

“Ah… well…”

It was the first time she’d ever seen Park Eun-young flustered. And for a second, it felt satisfying.

But the answer that followed made her instantly regret asking.

“E-12*. Probably your embryo sample number.”
*TL/N: In Korean, the pronunciation of ‘illy’ is the same as how you’d say ‘E-12’.

Ah. Of course it was.

From that day on, she decided she didn’t really have a name.

Her body grew weaker by the day. Her emotional pain only deepened. She clung to the hope that maybe he’d escape one day… but even that hope was starting to fade.

She had reached her limit.

She could feel the spark of life dimming inside her.

Until one day—

Creeeak—

A man opened the door and walked into her life.

***

“Hey, hey, slow down, kiddo!”

Yook Jung-pal, now with his hair freshly dyed black, sat across from Irang.

She had crumbs all over her mouth as she chewed furiously. The bread in her hand was halfway demolished before she suddenly paused and set it down. Gi-seon, sitting next to her, gave her a warning glare.

“Why are you scolding her when she’s eating just fine? Don’t listen to him, Goldie. Eat, eat.”

“It’s not like I told her to stop eating! Just—she’s eating like she’s being chased… Kiddo, don’t take it the wrong way, alright?”

The table was piled with pastries of every kind—cream bread, streusel buns, macarons, cookies, madeleines, muffins. Someone had gone to the bakery and bought out half the place.

“Here, drink some milk too. No one’s gonna steal it from you, so take your time, yeah? Don’t eat like a starving ghost, you little brat!”

Irang grinned, completely unaware she had a milk mustache. She laughed at everything Gi-seon said. Maybe because he was the one she’d seen the most—she’d grown attached.

“Is it good?”

“Mhm!”

Once she started eating, she didn’t stop. Whatever you gave her, she gobbled up without hesitation—especially anything in the bread family. Her eyes practically sparkled.

She was eating so well lately, it looked like she’d even gained a little weight.

Gi-seon pulled a stray hair from her mouth and chuckled.

“You like this stuff so much, you’d probably run off with anyone who offered you bread, huh?”

“Should I go?”

“Are you crazy?! Where would you even go?!”

Yook Jung-pal and Gi-seon doted on Irang like she was a baby chick. They hadn’t meant to—but somehow, it had just happened. The old saying about first impressions seemed true; they couldn’t shake the image of her looking half-dead when they first met. Just thinking about it made their hearts ache.

The way she talked and acted—like she was missing something—didn’t help either.

And besides…

“She’s clearly starving for affection.”

She followed people around like a newborn puppy, wagging her invisible tail all day long. The difference in her behavior when someone was around versus when she was alone was stark. So stark that leaving her alone started to feel… wrong.

They were supposed to keep her locked up and monitored. But with Irang, it was hard—really hard—to be harsh.

“Hey, you eat too.”

“Aw, look at our baby, knowing her manners! Respect your elders, huh? You pass!”

Jung-pal, the most professional of the crew despite always grinning like an idiot, gave her a big thumbs-up. Gi-seon took that as proof that maybe he wasn’t the only one going soft.

“Yo, Goldie. This guy here just had two bowls of gukbap, so let him be. You and I should eat more.”

“What about you, Gi-seon?”

“You think I’m your buddy or something?! Gi-cheol hyung! You hearing this?! If you don’t behave, I’m never bringing bread again!”

Irang shoved the rest of her bread into her mouth like someone was about to steal it.

“Look at that greed. No one’s stealing from you! Chew properly, or you’ll choke and die.”

“Ugh, my ears! Can you yell a little less?! If my eardrum bursts, are you giving me yours?!”

“She’s the one stressing me out! And you’re not exactly soft-spoken either!”

“What, you got a mic stuck in your throat or something? Press 1337 and you start singing? My precious eardrums—how you gonna repay me, huh?”

While the two bickered, Irang watched them quietly—until she realized they weren’t stopping anytime soon and finally blurted out.

“I’ll give you mine.”

Jung-pal, who’d just peeled the wrapper off a chocolate muffin, stared at her.

“You even know what an eardrum is?”

“…I’m not stupid.”

Irang frowned and pointed at her ear, clearly annoyed at being underestimated.

“Fair enough. But seriously, you’d give it to me? For real? Damn… I’m touched! Hey, Gi-seon! You hear that? Take notes!”

He knew she probably didn’t mean it literally—but it still felt kind of nice.

Irang added one more thing.

“Yeah. ‘Cause you’re a good person.”

“…A good person?”

Yook Jung-pal blinked in disbelief.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever heard anyone call him that in his entire life.

Did he already go deaf or something?

And yet, right after that, he could hear Irang slurping her milk clear as day.

“Hahaha. Hey, Goldie! That was hilarious!”

Gi-seon burst into a loud, awkward laugh—because for some reason, he’d been at a total loss for words.

Jung-pal should’ve laughed along or snapped back like usual.

But for some reason, he just sat there in silence.

The corners of his mouth twitched up slightly—

But his face stayed frozen in an expression of quiet shock.

Like someone who’d just heard something they didn’t know they’d been longing for.