Chapter 5

Narrator’s POV

“Look here,” Hwayoung instructed the boy, cupping his face as she did and making him face her. Grabbing the scissors beside her, she started cutting Chanyeol’s hair to get rid of the excess bangs which covered his face. Attentive of the girl’s instructions, Chanyeol followed everything that she said -- whether it was to tilt his head to the left or to the right. He did everything with no reservations.

“A few more minutes and I’m almost done,” stated the girl who was now fixing the boy’s fringe in order to match his innocent and childish face. She stared at him, her lips slowly forming into a charming smile remembering just how the boy’s hair was in level with his shoulder earlier but was now cropped into a shorter style, making him more presentable. “I knew you’d look better after having your hair cut.” She pulled the boy into the bathroom and allowed him to look at his reflection in the mirror.

The boy, in turn, seemed amused with the way he looked, rubbing his eyes as he stared at his reflection on the mirror. “Happy?” the girl asked, although she knew better than to wait for a response.

He lifted his hand up to touch his hair. As if it was his first time, Chanyeol wound his fingers through his hair and whimpered when he couldn’t remove his hand up his head. Hwayoung chuckled. “I’ll teach you how to use a comb,” she declared and shoved her hand inside her pockets. Her forehead slightly creased in confusion when the comb was playing hard to get, Hwayoung continued searching until she fortunately found it in the depths of her pocket. Together with it was the photo where she had copied Chanyeol’s hairstyle from.

To say she was bothered about the man in the picture was an understatement. If not for the fear of having her parents put her into a mental institution, she could have pulled out her hair from its roots a long time ago due to too much frustration. She was puzzled – more than puzzled, to be exact. It was the first time that she took great interest towards these kinds of things. In order to satisfy even just a bit of the curiosity that was eating her up, she decided to cut Chanyeol’s hair the same way as the man in the picture had his.

She shifted her gaze to Chanyeol who, judging by the way he was gnawing the bristles of the comb, had no idea what he was holding. They didn't know where he came from and just remembering how she had found him, she suddenly had no interest in knowing where. The option of asking her parents about the said man was something she disregarded the first time. But then as time passed, she slowly felt Chanyeol’s company as something that gives her comfort. Laughing to herself, Hwayoung guided his hand to his hair, smoothing the tangles in place.

Instead of watching his reflection in the mirror, Chanyeol stared at the girl who would probably be the first and last person to ever show him compassion. He had no memory of where he came from. He just woke up in the middle of the forest and wandered day and night. And then he just woke up one morning with a girl staring down at his body. But his mind didn’t even register shame.

When she was sure that he looked presentable enough, Hwayoung took the comb back and watched her masterpiece. Contented that he didn’t make so much as a growl or a whimper, she patted his head. The action took more effort than she thought, since Chanyeol had a height that of a lamp post. The boy, after seeing her tiptoe just to pat his head, bent his knees a little. She smiled. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you?”

Taking this chance that they were in the bathroom without Chanyeol falling suddenly asleep, Hwayoung took two of the toothbrushes that were placed in the cup on top of the sink. She handed him one. Seeing his usual wide-eyed expression, “This is what you call a toothbrush. See, you brush your teeth with it so that you’ll feel fresh inside your mouth,” the girl explained. Chanyeol just stared at it.

“Chanyeol-ah,” she called out. His head sharply turned to her direction. At least teaching him pays off, Hwayoung thought to herself. She held the tube of toothpaste in one hand and her toothbrush in the other. Instead of explaining, the girl demonstrated instead. Putting a generous amount of toothpaste on the brush, she put it in and began brushing her teeth.

She handed him the toothpaste. Chanyeol squeezed the tube a little and the substance came out. He didn’t put it on his toothbrush and ate it instead. “Ani, you’re not supposed to eat that,” Hwayoung immediately informed. Afraid he might engulf the entire tube, she put the toothpaste herself and handed the brush to him. “Put it in your mouth,” she instructed. The boy followed obediently.

With the girl again guiding his hand, Chanyeol stared at her, wondering how someone could show him such concern. People kicked and shooed him out of places. They were disgusted of him, which led him to believe that he wasn’t really like them. But then he ended up in their backyard and this girl who, at first, acted like the people who threw him out, slowly became the one who would look after him.

“Okay, do it like this. Up, down, up, down.” Hwayoung demonstrated, motioning for Chanyeol to copy her movements. Slowly, he started following the pattern that Hwayoung had taught him and he brushed his teeth like the way she did. After her guidance, Hwayoung decided to let him do it by himself. As he brushed the underside of his teeth, “Gidaryo,” she said. The boy’s muscles froze into place at her instruction. “When you’re done brushing your teeth, you open your mouth and spit everything out, arasseo?” She leaned against the wall and watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

“Aniyo, you’re supposed to spit it out not swallow it!” Hwayoung laughed. Giving him a new cup of water, Hwayoung made sure that this time, Chanyeol would understand her instructions properly. Finally, after almost ten minutes inside the bathroom, Chanyeol spat the water out and was able to rinse his mouth from any remaining foam.

Smiling contentedly, “You did well,” Hwayoung said and patted Chanyeol’s head as it was becoming a habit for her. The boy smiled in return, making her satisfied even more. And so she pulled out the potato from her pocket, placing it on the lad’s hand. “Take it now, you deserve it for being good,” she stated before tugging Chanyeol on the wrist and leading him towards the library where she would be teaching him a new lesson.

Hwayoung’s POV

We exited the bathroom with Chanyeol trailing from behind. His progress in just a few days was more than impressive, to say the least. As soon as we were about to climb up the stairs, “Hwayoung!” my mother’s shrill of a voice erupted from the doorway. Rolling my eyes, I was about to whine and protest until I saw her standing with a policeman.

“M-mworago?”

“Come in, come in,” omma invited, turning her back to me. She seemed surprised seeing Chanyeol wearing my father’s old clothes and with his hair cut. But nevertheless, she patted the couch, gesturing for the officer to sit down and make himself at home. He looked around our living room and closely scrutinized the boy beside me. “That’s my only child, Hwayoung,” omma introduced. “And the boy is Chanyeol.”

My torso dipped down low. “Annyeonghaseyo,” I greeted. Halfway down my bow, I saw Chanyeol still standing upright beside me from the corner of my eye. I pulled him down with me and together, we paid our respects. Standing erectly again, I decided to teach him manners and proper etiquette the next time. Before the visitor could open his mouth and speak, mother already handed him a glass of water.

“So this is the boy you found, huh?” the policeman started, sipping from his drink. “He doesn’t look lost to me.”

My mother sat down beside him. “Our Hwayoung here helps him clean himself. She was also the one who found him. He was lying and wounded in the middle of our backyard. What kind of parents would beat their child and not even look for him?” she exclaimed. “And he doesn’t even speak, for heavens’ sake! Maybe it’s because of the trauma of his parents’ maltreatment. That’s possible, isn’t it?”

The man shrugged, eyeing Chanyeol from head to toe. “He was wounded. He was lost. He can’t speak. I’d say he’s one of the hundreds of thousands of children and young adults abandoned during the war.”

Omma’s eyes widened. “Really?”

As they talked, the police officer took down notes, which I didn’t know the purpose of. When I realized that Chanyeol and I were just standing there doing nothing, I decided not to waste time and headed to the kitchen to stuff my pockets with boiled potatoes. “Wait for me here, arasseo?” I reminded Chanyeol before leaving. He had his gaze fixed on the policeman, as if his pressed blue uniform was of any interest to anyone.

When I came back, Chanyeol, together with my mother and the visitor, was nowhere to be found. I heard the gate creak open from outside as my mother probably walked the officer out. “Chanyeol?” I called out, wondering where he could be. “Let’s go to the library quickly. I have something to give you.” I patted the potatoes in my pocket. Finally, I saw a figure kneeling by the spot on the couch where the policeman sat.

The boy examined the pencil carefully, and I figured the officer must have dropped it. “That’s called a pencil, Chanyeol,” I informed, creeping beside him. “Say it. Yeonpil. Yeon-pil,” I instructed, but his gaze was concentrated on the pencil. Sighing, I stood up. “Let’s go to the library. I’ll teach you something new.”

The door burst open. “Mr. Jeong said he would try his best to look for an orphanage that can accommodate him,” omma stated.

Feeling suddenly angry, I grabbed Chanyeol’s hand and yanked him up the stairs. “No one will go to an orphanage.”

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Co-Author's Note:

Annyeong everyone! It's sapphire_22 here! It's my first time writing a co-author's note and I really feel privilege and happy to be min_neulmi's co-author for this story. =) I hope you all enjoyed this chapter as much as the other chapters that we have worked on together with min_neulmi. Please continue to support this story! Spread the love and have a nice day! Feel free to comment and subscribe! =)