Chapter 14- fighting the fever

When Seon woke up, the sun was already high in the sky, casting its golden light through the cracks in the dilapidated building. Mid-afternoon. His entire body felt unbearably hot, every muscle weighed down with exhaustion. His eyelids, swollen and heavy, resisted his attempts to open them. Blinking sluggishly, he forced his vision to clear.

The first thing he did was check his bundle. Finding it undisturbed, he exhaled in relief.

Shifting to sit up properly, a deep, painful cough rattled through his chest. He clutched his sides as the burning sensation in his throat refused to subside. Reaching into his bundle, he fumbled for the fever medicine he had managed to acquire from the kind-hearted butcher using a fabricated story about supporting his family.

With trembling fingers, he popped the capsule into his mouth and swallowed. His stomach, empty and aching, protested. He quickly opened a packet of biscuits and chewed slowly, savoring the bland taste as it filled the gnawing hunger within him.

Once the worst of the dizziness subsided, Seon glanced down at his hands and legs. Blisters, small cuts, and dried blood marred his skin, a painful reminder of the ordeal he had endured.

After finishing his small meal, he forced himself to his feet. His fevered body protested, heat radiating from his skin in waves, but he ignored it. He needed water.

Leaving his bundle hidden inside the building, he quietly slipped outside. The afternoon sun bore down on him, but he pressed forward, walking aimlessly through the quiet, desolate area. Eventually, he spotted a few scattered houses. As this was a remote place, none of them had courtyards or surrounding walls, only simple structures standing alone.

Seon observed his surroundings carefully. No one was outside.

Summoning his courage, he crept toward a well situated between the houses. Peering over the edge, he saw the clear water shimmering below. Without wasting time, he grabbed the bucket attached to the pulley and lowered it. Once he had drawn enough water, he quickly checked his surroundings again before taking several deep gulps, not caring whether it was clean or not.

As the cool liquid flowed down his throat, soothing the irritation, he let out a relieved sigh. His cough eased slightly.

Feeling the grime clinging to his skin, he decided to wash up. Removing his tattered shirt, he poured the warm water over his head, letting it cascade down his body. The summer heat made the water feel pleasant rather than cold, refreshing him.

After shaking off the excess water, he scanned the area for something to store more. His eyes landed on an empty steel bucket. He rinsed it out quickly, filled it with water, and carefully carried it back toward his temporary shelter.

Upon returning to the abandoned building, Seon moved cautiously, minding his balance as he stepped over uneven debris. Despite his exhaustion, the short trip had helped him regain some strength.

Determined to make his new shelter more livable, he set the bucket down and began cleaning. He found an old broom, its bristles worn but still usable, and started sweeping away the thick layer of dust and dirt. The air became unbearably stuffy, so he tore strips from his shirt and tied them around his nose to avoid inhaling the filth.

Once the floor was somewhat cleaner, he took the time to explore the rest of the building.

There were several rooms, all with doors intact, though the furniture inside was old and coated in dust. Despite its abandoned state, the structure seemed sturdy enough to provide him shelter for the time being.

For now, this place would have to do.

After tidying up the space, Seon began exploring the rooms more thoroughly. In the largest room on the ground floor, he came across a surprising discovery—several sets of adult men's clothing, an unopened blanket, and various daily necessities such as toothpaste and a toothbrush, all stored neatly in a cupboard.

A sense of unease crept into him. Could someone still be living here?

However, the thick layer of dust covering everything except the cupboard, along with the cobwebs and spiders hanging in the corners, made him dismiss the thought. It was evident that no one had used this place in a long time.

After gathering some clothes and a blanket, Seon returned to the hall where he had cleaned earlier. He spread out the blanket on the floor to make himself a makeshift bed. Then, taking a wooden jug he had found in the kitchen, he made his way to the back of the house, where he discovered a well connected to a bore pump.

He cautiously worked the pump, watching as water gushed into the jug. Holding it up to the light, he noticed no dust or debris. Taking a tentative sniff, he found no strange odors. The water smelled clean—surprisingly similar to the one he had drunk at the orphanage.

Inspecting the well more closely, he noticed several machines attached to it, partially covered by large stones. It was an unusual setup, but he didn't dwell on it. Instead, he focused on fetching more water.

One by one, he filled the empty buckets he had found inside the house, carrying them back carefully. Once he had enough, he washed himself thoroughly, scrubbing away the grime from his skin. He then changed into a pair of shorts and a sleeveless shirt he had taken from the cupboard.

Feeling slightly refreshed, he returned to his bundle, unwrapped a packet of buns, and began eating slowly, taking small bites to make the food last. After finishing two fist-sized buns, he finally felt full.

Laying down on the blankets, exhaustion crashed over him. The fever burning through his body, the mental strain and fell asleep.

Seon woke up the next afternoon to the harsh glare of the sun streaming through the cracks in the building. His fever had worsened, leaving him too weak to even sit up. His body felt unbearably hot, his limbs heavy as if weighed down by stones.

Blinking sluggishly, he turned his head and spotted the food he had set aside. Without the energy to move properly, he reached out with trembling hands, taking small bites while still lying down. Each swallow was an effort, but he forced himself to eat.

After some time, he managed to push himself up into a sitting position, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated. His head swam with dizziness as he fumbled for the medicine he had taken earlier. With a shaky hand, he popped the fever pill into his mouth and swallowed dry.

As soon as the medicine was down, his strength gave out, and he collapsed back onto the blankets. His fevered body ached, his mind too hazy to think properly. Sleep claimed him again almost instantly.

When he next woke, it was already the following day. His clothes were drenched in sweat, his fever finally breaking. Though still weak, he felt noticeably better than before. His stomach growled loudly, reminding him of how little he had eaten.

Ignoring everything else, he reached for the packed buns from his stash and tore into them without hesitation. There were still other food items—dried beans and various supplies he had taken with him—but he didn't have the strength or patience to prepare anything. For now, just eating was enough