Narrator's POV

Tapping her feet in rhythm with the droplets of water falling onto the ground, Hwayoung let her eyes wander the wet scenery outside their home. As it continuously rained, she was calmly sitting by the window in their living room until she heard a soft whimper by her side, indicating that an unwanted presence was nearby.

“Ya!” she called out as she turned and looked at the boy. “Don’t you ever talk at all? Do you have bad breath or is your tongue twisted or what?” The girl questioned accusingly as the boy continued to creepily stare back at her. He was in his usual position, like a dog that was sniffing the air in great huffs as if he was searching for something. His hair was sticking out in all directions – his usual style.

“Oh, so he’s finally awake.” Mijeong suddenly appeared, holding piles of clothes with both of her hands. Turning to her daughter, “Hwayoung, why don’t you go and help him wash up, that fellow hasn’t taken a bath for two days. Don’t worry, your father taught him how to change his underwear. So all you need to do is to help him scrub his back and clean the upper part of his body,” she ordered all at once. Before Hwayoung could protest, the older woman already disappeared from up the stairs, meaning she had no choice but to follow.

“OMMA!” Hwayoung screamed at the top of her lungs showing how much she disapproved of the sudden task that her mother had just given her. Narrowing her eyes into slits, she stared daggers at the boy as a sign of dislike. She knew he was the cause of her newfound burden. Ever since she found the boy in their backyard, her errands doubled. Oh how she wished that looks could indeed kill.

“Aish. If only I can, I could have castrated you a long time ago,” the girl said before pulling the boy by his shirt as they both headed to the bathroom. Hesitating at first, the girl thought of letting the boy wash up all by himself. But after realizing that leaving him could possibly lead into unexpected events where only Hwayoung was the one to blame, she decided to just stay instead and obediently follow her mother’s order.

“Ya,” Hwayoung started to speak, blowing air out of her cheeks. “Remove your shirt. Omma said you need to take a bath,” she instructed before looking away to give the boy some privacy. The lad, who wasn’t able to comprehend what he was supposed to do, just stared at the huge pail in front of him. His reflection on the water surface gained his attention and he slowly inch towards it until he felt something smack his back.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” the girl murmured. Hwayoung then helped the lad stand up while she ed the boy’s shirt with her eyes closed. “This will be the first and the last time I’m doing this. I swear, this is my worst nightmare!” exclaimed Hwayoung, turning the lad around and letting him sit on the small bench inside the bathroom. “Don’t remove your pants. I don’t want my eyes tainted,” commanded Hwayoung. Grabbing the dipper, she drenched the boy. She stepped back as he shook his head from side to side, as if he was a dog trying to dry himself. Then she started rubbing his back to make sure he would be squeaky clean.

Surprisingly, the boy’s skin was smooth and soft – an exact opposite of what Hwayoung expected his skin to be. She was in the midst of nearly finishing her task when she noticed that the boy fell asleep. About to shout at him, Hwayoung instead allowed a soft giggle to escape from her lips as she saw the latter’s sleeping form, his pink lips were parted a little and his face looked calm and endearing.

“Ya, wake up. I’m done helping you wash up. Make it fast and change, I’ll leave your clothes here.” Hwayoung stated after leaving the boy for awhile to get some of his clothes. His eyes fluttered open as he felt the girl nudge him a little. Giving out a slight whimper, he looked at her curiously while rubbing his eyes.

“Palli, we have to go somewhere!” Hwayoung left, exiting the bathroom and letting him take his time to change. After a few minutes, Hwayoung opened the door to the bathroom and instantly, she burst out laughing.

“Babo! Why did you wear your shirt like this? The buttons must be in front not at the back!” she told the boy who scratched his head in return. Shaking her head at the boy’s lack of knowledge on things, she helped him fix his shirt before finally pulling him out of the bathroom and leading him upstairs.

“This is the library, a place full of books where you can learn a lot of things,” she explained, opening the third room next to hers. They entered the library and the boy’s wrist immediately went out of her grasp as he went running towards one of the bookshelves. Getting alarmed, Hwayoung followed him as he had reached the back part of the library and was in awe while staring at the enormous amount of books.

“These are the things you call books. They are full of stories, poems, biographies or just knowledgeable facts,” Hwayoung informed as she let her fingers run across the spines of various books while trying to see which one would fit her taste. The boy, meanwhile, was staring at her, wondering what she was doing.

“Moonlight Sorrow,” she read the book’s title out loud after pulling it out from the dozen of books in the shelf. The girl started flipping through the book and her face was suddenly filled with an unknown expression after scanning one of the pages.

“You look exactly like him,” the girl said in awe towards the boy who stared at her with all interest. Slowly, she lifted the black and white photo at her eyes’ view, studying it carefully and comparing it with the boy’s innocent face until she let out an amazed sigh.

“Omona, you really look like him,” Hwayoung commented once more before checking the back part of the picture. There, she found a date and a name which clearly sparked her interest more.

“Park Chanyeol, 1932” was scribbled in a spidery handwriting. Hwayoung soon was rendered speechless when she alternated looks from the man in the photo and the boy who was busily fiddling with the books on the shelf. The resemblance was so striking that she thought they were twins – except for the reasons that they were living in different years and that the guy named Park Chanyeol had straight hair while the boy beside her had curly locks.

Poking his shoulder, Hwayoung gained back the boy’s attention. Stopping him midway his continuous sniffing, the boy locked gazes with her as he stared at her trying to guess what she was up to. In the midst of staring at each other, Hwayoung gave off a gentle smile as an idea entered her mind. “Chanyeol. I’m going to call you Chanyeol from now on.” And she patted the boy’s head softly.