Flashback

The little boy must have been around the age of seven.  A period so fragile. After working hard to understand the basics of the world, in just a few days, everything had crumbled. He could feel his happiness (his youth!) slipping away as he was standing frozen in front of the bathroom's open door. Still wearing his shoes that were muddy from playing in the light rain.

Watching with huge, terrified eyes a pool of red silently spreading around the white floor tiles.

"It's your fault…" he heard a crooked whisper and the woman kneeling looked up.

Pure hatred in her eyes, her features twisted, her arms crossed over her stomach. The boy felt like his heart was a trapped bird, thrashing around wildly, begging to be set free.

"Mommy?"

The word barely left his mouth and an ear-splitting scream echoed in the whole house.

"SHUT UP!"

She crawled on the floor, whimpering as her long skirt was dragged through the blood, smearing it around more. Dirtying everything.

"I don't know you…" she said with the trembling voice of a madman.

"I do not have a son named Lee Hyukjae."

The boy flinched and tears started rolling down his soft cheeks. He reached to her by instinct but she screamed again. her hands in her hair, she pulled at the black strands.

"You should have died instead!"

Her words were tossed like knives and seven-year-old Hyukjae winced as if being in real physical pain. His breathing became faster and faster, his head dizzy.

"No, mommy…"

He murmured these words again and again, always looking into her hating eyes. And even when he felt arms wrapping around him, yells, pushing him to leave, to get away from her… Even then, his eyes didn't leave her broken down form, the red liquid cooling down around her…

That bloody red…

He rubbed his temples again after passing the clean soup bowls to mrs. Lee. Picking up the last plate, he handed it to the woman, smiling faintly at her. She knitted her brows and wiped her hands on a towel before feeling his temperature.

"Omo!"

She hurried to fully drench the same towel and then placed it on Hyukjae's forehead.

"Keep it there. Donghae!"  she called while searching for the ingredients to make tea.

The younger's head appeared at the door and he lifted an eyebrow at the stranger's slumbered form.

"Did you finish your chores?" she asked and measured a table-spoon of herbs before throwing them in the boiling water.

Donghae murmured a "yes", still questioningly examining the other man. Hyukjae was obviously in pain. His mother handed him the steaming cup of tea and leaned to whisper to his ear.

"Go sit with him in the fresh air."

Grimacing at that, the man was once again smacked on the head.

"And behave!"

She went to Hyukjae's side, softly pulling him up, promising he would feel better in a jiffy. The guest almost smiled at her selection of word and followed her son outside, his sight slightly blurry.

"So, what´s the story?"

Hyukjae tore his eyes form the view of the sea and small houses built on the hill, focusing on the man sitting beside him instead.

"What do you mean?"

The cup of tea was now empty, placed on the flat rocks that were covering the space