Chapter 50: Lucid Dream (1)
“Cheol-yong, move!”
“Watch out!”
Hyung-geun intercepted the ball easily enough and passed it to someone else before receiving it once again a moment later. All the other children circled around him, determined to steal the ball back for themselves, but Hyung-geun skillfully maneuvered around them all, dribbling all the way to the goalpost. He looked up to find his aim, but was thrown off by what he saw.
“Huh?”
Or rather, by what he didn’t see. The goalkeeper was nowhere to be seen.
“Stop him!”
“Get him! No!!”
Hyung-geun kicked the ball into the goal with little effort and, surely enough, scored a point for his team.
“Where did plaster face go?” Myeong-su asked, but no one had an answer for him.
Unseen by the other children, Lucid had snuck away from the field and climbed the mountain behind the institute for the first time in a rather long time. It had been an impulsive decision on his part, but he had also hoped that coming back would somehow transport him to the other world again, as it had before.
This mountain, unlike the forest in the other world, was mainly comprised of bamboo and oak trees. With both being evergreens, the mountain was a lovely shade of green all year round, and even now, it looked like a piece of summer stranded in a winter land. Only the harsh wind broke the illusion. Still, as with most other mountains, the ground was covered with a decent amount of fallen leaves, but they posed no problem for Lucid as he climbed higher and higher, especially since he had cast magic to increase the friction on the bottom of his shoes. For him, climbing up the mountain was no different from walking down the street, and he reached the peak in no time. Breathing heavily to regain control, he noticed that his physical strength and stamina had both deteriorated over the past year. Before, he hadn’t even broken a sweat climbing this same mountain, yet here he was now, huffing and puffing. All that sitting and reading must have taken a toll on him after all.
The sky he saw down at the courtyard and the sky he was now looking at, from high in the mountain, were one and the same, as clear and blue as ever, but the air felt different. It was clearer, crisper, and he took deep breaths to fill his lungs with it. He closed his eyes and felt the wind on his skin, canceling all the magic he had cast before. As the warming magic left him, a sharp chill ran down his spine.
“Mom.” he called, his voice low. He hadn’t spoken that word out loud in a long time, and he choked on it.
****
Dong-in had been looking out the window, watching some middle schoolers running around with some elementary schoolers.
“God dammit.” he muttered under his breath.
He had been cursing quite a lot recently, and most times, he didn’t even realize. The words left his lips whenever he felt even a little miffed, whether he was alone or not, prompted or not. Right now, he cursed watching the children playing in the field.
He hadn’t known this when he himself was a young child, but now that he was in middle school, playing outside and kicking a ball around were no longer entertaining, and he had no wish to participate. It was easy enough for elementary schoolers to run around chasing a ball, but the middle schoolers with them were a bit different. They would run just enough to reach the ball and kick it just enough to get the children to run to the other side. In other words, they weren’t playing. They were just taking care of the younger children. When Dong-in was younger, the middle schoolers (now high schoolers) took care of him in the same way, and now, his peers took care of the elementary schoolers. High schoolers then avoided the courtyard altogether, choosing to let the younger kids run free and instead studying to achieve their goals for the future, once they left the institute. Such were the rules of the Anes Institute, a sort of tradition to allow all the children to come together and fraternize, growing closer together as real siblings would. Or was it?
“In the same boat, so row together.” Dong-in grumbled.
Once he had realized that this was the true intention of the rules, Dong-in had lost all interest in playing. It disgusted him to know that he was expected to go out and mingle with the rest of the children, so that they may all be pitied together. He didn’t want to be considered pitiful, and he didn’t want to consider the other children as such either. So, he simply grew to dislike their soccer games. That was why he was currently holed up in his room, avoiding all the volunteers crawling about the institute and watching the children play outside, as much as he hated it. That’s when he noticed one of the goalkeepers turn around and sneak off somewhere.
He gnawed on his lips as he watched the boy’s retreating figure, feeling all sorts of emotions bubbling inside, emotions that stung his eyes with unshed tears, emotions that made him want to scream until his throat bled, that burst the blood vessels in his eyes and made his breath uneven. Hatred, disgust, resentment, contempt. No matter how many words he used to describe his emotions, they weren’t enough to properly convey everything he felt. Part of him felt frustrated. Why should he have to feel this way? He didn’t deserve this. He had lived his whole life being well-liked as a good student, a good child, a kind person who always smiled, until that boy came along and pushed him straight to the depths of hell. He couldn’t ever forgive him. He wouldn’t ever forgive him.
Dong-in turned around and left his room.
****
Yun-jeong had made her way to the cafeteria quite early in the morning, which was unusual for her. After helping out with serving breakfast, she gleefully went in the kitchens to practice her own cooking. With the recent boom of cooking programs on TV, Yun-jeong was more than ecstatic, and she made up her mind to be like all those famous chefs and master their fancy skills. As such, she had grabbed the kitchen wok and was now furiously shaking it about. It was no easy feat, as slender as her arms were, but she persevered, passionately practicing the movement. She rolled the wok around to evenly coat it in oil before dumping in the spring onions she had chopped up. Then, she added a splash of soy sauce, to both flavor and impart some aroma to the oil. As she shook the wok around, the fresh scent of spring onion oil wafted through the air.
“Yun-jeong! Are you into Chinese food now?”
“What are you making? You’ve made such a mess!”
“Fried rice!” Yun-jeong answered cheerfully, smiling at the cooks who had gathered around to watch.
Focusing once more on the wok in her hands, she added ground pork and various vegetables, stir frying as needed before reducing the heat to add the rice. She would be sharing with all the cooks, so she would have to make plenty. However, that meant more of everything, and the considerable weight of all the ingredients as well as of the wok put quite a strain on her wrists. The only thing pushing her forward was her love for cooking, and she continued to shake the wok around. After what seemed like a lifetime, she finally set it down and turned the heat off, dividing the fried rice evenly on three plates.
“It’s done!” She said. She was covered in sweat, but she knew that it was a result of her hard work. She was proud of herself and of what she achieved. “Come have a taste!”
“Are you done?” asked one of the cooks.
“Nope! I’m making crab soup next!”
Yun-jeong wiped the sweat from her eyes and set to preparing for her next dish.
****
Ki-woong had been reading, the door to his room firmly shut. Outside, a sign hung from it, reading “Currently studying, do not disturb.” Normally, most institutes housing high school students didn’t receive high school volunteers, to avoid the awkward, if not downright patronizing, situation of being taken care of by a peer. Even if high school volunteers were accepted, measures were taked to prevent them from meeting the resident high schoolers, such as sending the latter outside. The Anes Institute was no different, and with the influx of high school volunteers (it was the weekend, after all), most of the high schoolers had gone out. All, actually, except for Ki-woong.
Ki-woong had chosen to stay, mainly because he had nothing better to do outside, and he didn’t quite care about the volunteers wandering about the institute. As long as he didn’t run into them, then everything was fine. And so, he had kept reading, until he heard a knock at the door.
“Ki-woong,” a voice called from outside. “Are you free?”
Recognizing the voice as one of the teachers, Ki-woong opened the door.
“How can I help you?”
“The administrative office asked if you could help them out. They’re a little flooded, I think.”
This was a rather common occurrence in the institute. If the office was behind in its work, Ki-woong would often go down to lend a hand. This was partly because he was the smartest high schooler in the institute, and he had actually proven himself to be quite adept at getting things done. The biggest reason, however, was that he hardly complained, to the point that the director of administration had actually suggested that Ki-woong work at the office after graduating high school. This wasn’t well-received at all, since Ki-woong had his sights set on medical school, but he had still smiled and laughed it off, showing remarkable self-control and patience.
“Yes, of course. Should I go down right away?”
“Yes, please. Thank you so much, and I’m so sorry to ask you every time.”
The teacher smiled bitterly and pat Ki-woong’s arm in an attempt to comfort him. The boy wasn’t getting paid at all, simply giving out his time for the sake of the institute, and this made the teacher feel all kinds of terrible. He was proud of him, yes, but it was still a very regrettable situation. Ki-woong was, the teacher thought, the very definition of a volunteer.
****
Jiwon had walked back (though “escaped” would be more accurate) to the institute from the courtyard, and she was hardly in the mood to talk to anyone. But with nowhere to go, she was forced to go inside and join the rest of the volunteers.
“Jiwon,” one of them called out. “What are you doing?”
“Oh… Um… I was just wondering if there’s anything I can do to help.”
“You’re really red, did you know that?” the volunteer asked, cupping Jiwon’s cheeks in her hands. “How long were you outside? Goodness. Stay inside, and go check the kitchens. They’ll be getting food ready soon, so go see if there are any dishes that need to be done.”
The volunteer had assumed that Jiwon had gone out to play, and Jiwon was much too high strung to explain herself. She couldn’t even find the proper words for it, and she simply nodded, making her way towards the kitchens as she had been instructed.
In her head, she kept replaying the conversation she had with that boy. Why had she said that? She had no idea, and she was embarrassed beyond words. She had volunteered at the institute before, but back then, she had to do so much work that there simply hadn’t been enough time for her to talk to any of the residing children. That was why she had made up her mind to spend some time with them this time around. She had a lot of work today as well, but she had managed to sneak out to the courtyard somehow. But after all her efforts, she had been attacked when she had least expected it.
To Jiwon, volunteering at an institute meant playing with the children, holding their hands and talking to them as a way to make them feel loved. That’s what heroines did, wasn’t it? Still, when she had seen the children running around in the dirt, she had felt a bit put off, which is why she had decided to talk to the child farthest away from all the mess. That turned out to be her worst decision yet, as she had gotten quite hurt from their conversation.
“Why would talking to us be work?” the boy had asked.
She had immediately felt in the wrong. Perhaps she had been so flustered, so scared by the boy’s piercing gaze because she felt guilty. No, she knew that was the reason. She had known it as soon as she heard the boy’s words, and that was why she had practically run away from him.
She felt bad. Instead of making him feel loved, she had hurt his feelings, and she felt terrible about it. But she also had no excuse, no good reason to go back so soon, so she simply went to the kitchens. Maybe distracting herself with work would help calm her down and get her thoughts back in order. Then, she decided, she would go back and apologize.
When Jiwon turned the corner to get to the back of the building, where the cafeteria was, she saw a boy climb the fence and go into the mountain. He had short hair, and he was shorter than her. A middle schooler, most likely. As she watched, he walked calmly, but with determination, towards the mountain, and his figure was soon hidden by the trees.
With a mountain so close to the institute, perhaps it acted like a natural playground for the children here. Did they usually go out into the mountain? Probably, Jiwon thought. Dismissing it at that, she opened the door to the cafeteria.
<Lucid Dream (1)> End.