Chapter 34: REWIND 1 < [--:--am]

She held his hand and whispered a feverish prayer.

“Wake up Byunghee, please,” she begged, “you’re all I have left.”

His eyes rolled under his lids and in dreams Byunghee ran and ran from white spectrals that surrounded him and suffocated him, whispering ‘it’s all your fault’ again and again until he was smothered in a sea of white ghosts.

The spoke in Changun's voice. 

He reached out with one hand, reaching for Changsun who was beyond his touch and he despaired.

“Byunghee!” his mother whispered, worriedly touching his cheek as Byunghee let out a moan and shifted. “Calm down.”

But he couldn’t. He twisted and turned, becoming entangled in his bed sheets and sweat poured down his neck. His mother backed away, fearful on her son’s strange actions.

“Nurse!” she called and jabbed a red button again and again.

“What’s wrong Jung-ssi?” a pretty-face nurse came in. Almost instantly she saw the situation and turned around. 

“Doctor!” her voice echoed down the corridor.

In minutes she was back with a white-coated doctor in stow. He had a serious look on his face as he walked over to Byunghee and pressed one cold finger to the boy’s neck. He turned around, “Inject his IV with dose 43,” he instructed the nurse who quickly walked out of the room, her heels clacking loudly on the tiled floor.

“W-what are you doing to my son?” Byunghee’s mother asked fearfully.

“Don’t worry,” the doctor said gently. “It’s something similar to a sedative. It should quieten his sleep.”

More heavy clacking signaled the return of the nurse. She entered the room with a silver tray of needles and syringes. Expertly and efficiently she pieced them together and after receiving an assenting nod from the doctor, swiftly injected it into the IV drip bag.

They all watched intently as Byunghee transited from the strange call-moans to a limp form and then, to a body that simply lay on the bed.

“All right,” the doctor nodded to the nurse who quickly packed up and left.

He then turned to Byunghee’s mother. “Let him sleep,” he advised. “It seems the only thing we can do for this poor boy,” he bowed his head and walked out, leaving Byunghee’s mother to stare at the monitor that showed no change but for a constant bleep of an uncertain heart. 

***

Changsun awoke with difficulty. His eyes felt crusted, a firm protesting at the simple motor movement to open the lids. One hand swiped at it lazily and Changsun felt soft cotton tumble over his arms and his eyes flew open as the memories came back to him.

Ji-su noona, the white collar and the cull.

Fresh tears arose as Changsun recognized the object clutched so tightly in his hands. His sister’s hat and her officer badge, held so tightly that a deep imprint was marked into his palms. He closed his fingers tightly over the metal object and pressed down hard, the pain acting like some sort of release and the floodgates opened. Changsun wanted to clench the badge so hard that it would be engraved into his very palms.

But then a voice sliced through his haze of thoughts. “Lee Changsun.”

His name. In soft, clipped words. Fine, precise language.

Changsun looked up through the blur of tears and made out a shadowy figure, cut into a masculine form but other than that, unrecognizable.

“Lee Changsun,” the man said again, coming closer. His footsteps were light, even. Trained. “Focus. You have a greater task ahead of you.”

“Who…are you?” Changsun croaked, his throat raw from crying meaningless sounds.

“My name is of no importance. Not in the face of what I am about to offer you.” Changsun blinked. What could this man offer him? Who was this man? Was this a trap? Perhaps another dirty trick from the enforcers?

“Perhaps though,” the man continued, ignorant of Changsun’s suspicious train of thoughts. “Perhaps a name would help.”

The man leaned forwards so that Changsun could make out the bridge of a sharp nose and chiseled cheekbones. A face belonging to a handsome man. Who felt the need to sneak around in the shadows.

“How about you call me the Ringmaster,” he suggested, and that’s where Changsun’s story started anew.

***

A white ceiling.

As white as the ghosts in his nightmares.

That was the first sight Byunghee was greeted with as his eyes cracked open.

He could still feel his heart racing, a fierce thumping staccato as his screams were swallowed the ghosts and Changsun’s voice that resounded everywhere, an echo in a dark blue room. The second thing that Byunghee registered was a beeping sound to his left.

He turned his head and winced at the soreness that came with it. He felt like he had been lying here for eons and his body had turned into an unused, unoiled hinge of a door.

Byunghee stared at the room to his left. Indeed he was in a hospital as he thought, evident by the blue line flashing on a green monitor and the plethora of mind-boggling looking equipment. His eyes widened to see his mother asleep in a chair and slumped over the edge of the bed.

“Umma!” he tried to say, but the words came out as a scratchy noise. He wanted to reach for her but his arms were unresponsive as well. He could feel them, but summoning the energy to move was beyond him.

Byunghee gave up and chose to watch the rise and fall of her head and the bob of her no-longer shiny black hair. 

His mother had gone through so many things, and she in turn had made Byunghee go through things he would have never dreamt of as a younger boy, but he couldn’t hate her. To hate one’s own filial ties without great reason required the strength to realize one's own parents were possible of causing cruelty, and Byunghee was not cut from that fold. He was caring to the utmost end, and even after everything he still loved his mother.

Seeing her look so tired and worn out broke his heart.

“Your mother cares for you,” a soft, clipped comment floated in.

Byunghee’s eyes jolted upwards – the extent of his ability to move – and he saw a man enter. Not a man he recognized. The man wore a dark coat of thick fabric and shiny buttons, fastened comfortably up to his neck with sleek business trousers and polished oak shoes. He looked sophisticated and of the Peaks. Perched on his head was an old-fashioned black hat. It was as if the man had dipped his hand into the Victorian age and pulled out a top hat. Surprisingly, it suited him well. The man took off his hat and offered Byunghee a small, courteous bow.

“Jung Byunghee,” he said in his perfectly pitched voice. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Who- are…you…?” Byunghee managed.

 “My name is of no importance. Not in the face of what I am about to offer you.” Byunghee blinked. What was this man talking about?

 “Perhaps though,” the man continued, “a name would help.”

The man took two steps forwards so that he stood right next to Byunghee. Drawing out a second chair, he sat himself down comfortably, somehow never making enough noise to wake Byunghee’s mother.  From this level Byunghee could make out the man’s face. It was handsome enough, a pointed nose and chiseled cheekbones.

The man settled the hat on his lap. “How about you call me the Ringmaster,” he suggested in a tone of casual acquaintance. “And I shall simply call you Jung Byunghee, if that is okay with you.”

Not that Byunghee had the opportunity to say elsewise.

“I’ll get right to the point Jung Byunghee,” the man continued without skipping a beat. “I have a proposal to make for you. I will grant a wish of yours, any wish at all. In exchange you will aid my cause of bringing down this wretched government.”

Byunghee blinked. Did he just hear what he thought he heard?

“You did hear what you thought you heard,” the Ringmaster confirmed his suspicions in an amused voice. “Your expression is very easy to read. Yes, I want to take down the government, I’m sure you don’t need much more than your imagination to guess why.”

“But why me?” Byunghee croaked.

“Because,” the Ringmaster flipped his hat so that the hollow bottom was revealed. “Because you have the hacking ability and willpower to make this possible. And because I know you’ve already tried and failed.”

Byunghee flinched. Failure did not sit well with him.

Then another thought rushed back to him: the night at the harbor, the explosion – Changsun.

“Changsun!” he shouted and then choked, the effort involved surprisingly taxing.

Beside him his mother twitched.

“Shhh,” the Ringmaster tried to calm him down. “Don’t overexert yourself.”

“B-but!” Byunghee protested, trying to sit up. “Changsun. My brother. Lee Changsun-“

“Shush,” the Ringmaster placed one finger to Byunghee’s lips. “Lee Changsun is somewhere you cannot reach any longer.”

“What?”

“Lee Changsun has been sent to the Graveyards as punishment for possession of the Christmas virus.”

Byunghee’s eyes widened with horror. “No, no, no!” he struggled and clutched at the bedsheets. “They’re wrong! It was me! Not Changsun! Didn’t he say anything?”

The Ringmaster simply shook his head. “He didn’t want to reveal it was you.”

“Even after all I said?” Tears came to Byunghee’s eyes. “After everything harsh I flung at him? He still wants to protect me?”

“And that’s all he’s ever tried to do,” The ringmaster bowed his head slightly.

“This is wrong…this isn’t how it’s meant to end!” Byunghee moaned.

“And how do you want it to end?” The ringmaster asked archly.

“What do you mean?” Byunghee shot him a look. Those words were laced with meaning.

“Exactly what I just offered.” The Ringmaster met his gaze levelly. “I will grant any wish you want, if you lend me your strength in taking down the government. I’m sure you have no love for them either, so why not accept my proposal?”

Byunghee clamped his lips close. The Ringmaster spoke truthfully; his offer was reasonable and accepting it would be like killing two birds with one stone: Byunghee would take down the government like his father had tried to do, and he would have a chance at saving Changsun. But some heavy hold on his heart told him to be wary of this man’s words.

Byunghee opened his mouth, “Can you rescue people from the Graveyards?” he asked tentatively. He should have not, for he was already staring the devil in the face.

The Ringmaster grinned a Cheshire flash. “Of course, you have my word.”

“Is that all I have?”

“All that I can offer you. But I promise that it will be possible. I will rescue Changsun and return him to your arms. In exchange, help me take down this corrupt and unfair government. How about it?”

Byunghee bit his lip. It was exactly the deal he needed.

But so had the deal with the BlackBeards been everything he wanted as well.

It was too perfect. Too good to trust.

“We don’t have much time Byunghee,” the Ringmaster pushed him. “Changsun is being transferred today. If I intervene today, that will be the best chance Changsun has.”

Byunghee closed his eyes, all the possibilities running through his head like fine red wire of a computer and all ending up at the same ending.

Accept it, part of his brain hissed.

Don’t accept it, the other part spat back.

“Byunghee?”

For Changsun. For his brother who had done everything for him, whilst he who had done nothing in return. 

Byunghee kept his eyes closed. “I accept,” he said softly. And because his eyes were closed, he did not see the flash of a triumphant grin stretch over the Ringmaster’s face and then vanish.

“Thank you,” was all the Ringmaster said.

The Ringmaster stood up then, sweeping his coat behind him and taking his hat in one hand. He gave Byunghee a short bow. “I’ll take my leave now,” he said.

“What happens now?” Byunghee asked, finally opening his eyes.

The Ringmaster’s dark eyes gleamed. “I’ll go rescue Changsun. You should sleep and recover. When you wake up you’ll be in a different place, and Changsun will be there. That I promise.”

“You promise?” Byunghee asked sleepily, already feeling his eyes flicker close. He turned his head to stare at the Ringmaster who stood by the door as if he was eager to leave.

“I promise,” the Ringmaster repeated his words. “Thank you Byunghee, and farewell. The next time we meet, well, I don’t think you’ll remember me.”

He turned and placed his hat delicately back atop his finely combed hair and exited, a dark ghostly figure to the very end. 

Byunghee mulled the words over his head, frowning as he tried to figure out what sounded wrong with the Ringmaster’s words. But he couldn’t pinpoint it and sleep was lapping at the shores and Byunghee was being pulled under again, the thoughts of seeing Changsun filling his dreams with a much happier scene that he happily allowed himelf to sink into.