Chapter 12

Standing by the hot cooker, which brimmed with a vibrant medley of vegetables, glistening eggs, and the fish they had caught that very morning, a young child fixated on the water as it began to bubble violently. Raindrops drummed on the large glass doors that slid open to reveal a porch overlooking the ocean, where waves crashed rhythmically against the shore just below the balcony. The sound of the rain mingled with the relentless gushing of water, echoing the turmoil that engulfed the house.

Tears streamed down the child's cheeks, blending with the rainwater that trickled down the glass, marking the only movement in the chaos that surrounded him. His heart raced as he became acutely aware of the heat radiating from the cooker, juxtaposed against the chilling atmosphere of despair within the room.

Suddenly, the water began to bubble over, spilling onto the floor, its surface glistening ominously. In a panic, the boy fell to his hands and knees, crawling forward through the thick, glistening liquid that was slowly turning a dark, ominous red. It was then he noticed the figure sprawled on the floor, eerily still. Her hair, once beautiful, was now disheveled and plastered against her forehead, while the surroundings were painted in haunting shades of crimson, the color pooling alarming beneath the dim, flickering light that pierced through a nearby window.

"Mama," the boy's voice cracked as he desperately shook his mother's lifeless form, his small hands trembling with fear. But the stillness that enveloped her was a stark silence, unbroken by any reply. "Mama... Mama... Mama..." His cries echoed within the walls, growing more urgent, more desperate, yet remained unanswered.

Frustration boiling within him, he turned his attention toward a man lying just beyond his mother's reach. "Pa... Papa...?" The word escaped his lips, filled with a child's helplessness. But the silence that followed was deafening. In a moment of clarity, he remembered that water could revive those who had slipped into darkness. His bleary eyes scanned the room until they landed on the simmering pot—his only option.

As he attempted to rise, his feet slipped on the slick surface, sending him tumbling. He barely caught a glimpse of the boiling water before it clattered over the edge, spilling its contents in a chaotic splash. A piercing shriek escaped his lips, but it was drowned out by the thunder rolling outside and the tumultuous waves crashing below. The boy continued to scream, desperation lacing his every call, but his cries seemed absorbed by the storm that raged both within and outside the house.

Eventually, exhaustion seeped into his bones, and he began to concede to the weight of despair. No matter how loudly he screamed, it was clear that no one would come to his aid. The realization settled heavily, there was no point in using his voice any longer. It was better to stay silent than wait for a response, and so he did.

"They hurt because you've been working non-stop," Yeon-Su exclaimed, his voice a mixture of concern and frustration as he tenderly applied ointment to the angry burn marks that marred Yeon-Jun's legs. The scars were a painful reminder of his childhood, and Yeon-Su couldn't fathom why Yeon-Jun insisted on keeping them hidden under layers of fabric. "How many times have I told you not to keep them covered up?" His voice rose in exasperation. "You wear pants 24/7! Of course, you're going to get rashes if you keep this up!"

Yeon-Jun winced, trying to recoil his legs, but the touch of the cool ointment was both soothing and stinging against his inflamed skin. Despite his verbal reprimands, Yeon-Su was met only with the soft sounds of Yeon-Jun's discomfort—minor squeaks and the occasional hiccup, barely escaping his lips as he fought against the pain.

"Don't worry about work today," Yeon-Su said, placing the ointment tube back into the first aid box and closing the cabinet with a gentle thud. "If you don't want to go to the hospital, at least promise me you'll do the bare minimum and rest. It won't matter if Hyung sees those or if he pushes himself. It's his café; you were just dragged into this mess." Concern laced his words as he gazed at Yeon-Jun, who seemed reluctant to rest despite the evident toll it was taking on him.

In the past, when Sung-Hoon inquired about the burn marks, Yeon-Jun would always brush it off with a casual "I'm fine" and insist that he didn't need any fussing over him. But the truth was harsher. Over the years, Yeon-Jun had developed multiple infections from the untreated burn marks, stubbornly keeping his struggles a secret until Yeon-Su, through sheer persistence, uncovered the truth. Even now, he maintained a stoic front, choosing to endure the rashes brought on by negligence rather than reveal his vulnerability, all while Yeon-Su stepped in to care for him whenever the situation grew dire—always mindful to shield him from Sung-Hoon's scrutiny.

"He mentioned he's been standing a lot lately," Yeon-Su relayed to Sung-Hoon, who was stationed at the barista counter. Yeon-Jun had dashed out, hastily fulfilling orders. Sung-Hoon shot a worried glance in Yeon-Jun's direction, eager to follow, but Yeon-Su, with a sense of urgency, stepped in. "I need you here. I'll go," he insisted, knowing that he alone couldn't manage the grind of the barista station without help.

"I applied the massage oil you got for him," Yeon-Su continued, desperate to ease Sung-Hoon's concerns. "He'll be okay if he just rests for a day or two." He was about to turn back to his own duties when he noticed Sung-Hoon's determination to check on Yeon-Jun. Instinct took over, and he spun back, firmly grasping Sung-Hoon's arm. "I mean it—let him rest," he stated, his glare piercing. "It would be better if you granted him paid days off. This doesn't count against his promised days, understand?"

Sung-Hoon, taken aback by the intensity of Yeon-Su's look, gave a reluctant nod, submitting to his plea as he returned to his work. "At this rate," Yeon-Su muttered under his breath, barely audible, "I hope these two never figure it out. Yeon-Jun's too ignorant of his own limits, and Yeon-Jun is far too stubborn to accept help." He sighed, realizing the shift had finally come to an end, letting the weight of the situation settle on him as he clocked out, the worry for Yeon-Jun lingering in his mind.

As Yeon-Su strolled down the sidewalk towards the bus stop, he could feel the cool evening breeze against his skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of the bustling cafe he had just left. Suddenly, his phone vibrated in his pocket, its ringtone breaking the quiet of the street. Curious, he pulled it out to check the caller ID but found himself perplexed. The number was unfamiliar to him, a reminder of how he had never shared his contact details with anyone.

With a furrowed brow, Yeon-Su continued walking, his gait slightly hurried. As he rounded the corner, he spotted a sleek black car parked along the curb, its polished surface reflecting the fading light. A tall figure leaned against it, casting a long shadow that stretched towards him. Recognition hit him like a jolt; it was Tae-Min. A rush of mixed emotions surged through Yeon-Su—an instinctive urge to turn and walk the other way battled against a creeping sense of obligation. Before he could slip away unnoticed, Tae-Min's sharp gaze met his.

"You made it," Tae-Min called out, pushing himself off the car and striding towards Yeon-Su with an air of determination. He reached out, grasping Yeon-Su's wrist firmly. "Good. We need to talk," he said, his voice steady yet tinged with urgency as he guided Yeon-Su toward the passenger seat.

Yeon-Su hesitated for a moment, the weight of their unresolved past hanging heavily in the air. He had hoped to avoid this confrontation, yet deep down, he knew it was necessary. Reluctantly, he slid into the car and fastened his seatbelt, the click resonating like a starting gun. They hadn't seen each other since that fateful night, and the tension between them was palpable, a silent acknowledgment that they had certainly not parted on friendly terms.

As the car doors shut, an awkward silence enveloped them, but both understood that it was crucial to address the elephant in the room. Resolving the lingering discomfort from that night would be the first step towards moving forward, no matter how daunting it felt.

"But why do I have to go alone?" Joong-Ho questioned, his brow furrowed in concern, as Yixan explained her plan for him to pick up So-Min from the shelter. Yixan, with an important meeting looming later that evening, had originally intended to accompany So-Min to her job interview with Yeon-Jun and Sung-Hoon. But now, she found herself relying on Joong-Ho to act as her eyes and ears in her stead.

"It's because she's absolutely perfect for this job," Yixan replied earnestly, her voice full of conviction. "I want to support her in any way I can, even if it means picking her up and giving her a thorough rundown of the interview process myself. She deserves our help; the world is often so unforgiving to individuals like her. Plus, I'm considering recruiting others with similar backgrounds to create a more inclusive work environment."

Joong-Ho raised an eyebrow, cutting through Yixan's lofty ideals. "But it's not your cafe, Ma'am," he reminded her, sternly but not unkindly. "You should tread carefully when making decisions regarding things that aren't yours to control. There's a specific group of people who aren't fond of someone like you, and you know exactly who I'm referring to." Yixan felt a pang of recognition at his words; she was, indeed, getting ahead of herself. The implications of her ambition weighed heavily on her mind.

After a moment's pause, Joong-Ho relented and agreed to Yixan's request, albeit with clear reluctance. He dropped her off at the location of her meeting. As he drove away, Yixan took a deep, calming breath, her gaze shifting to the imposing gate of the mansion that loomed before her—a symbol of her tumultuous past.

The nameplate was etched with the name of the man she believed had irrevocably altered her life: Yui-Hyuk. The memory of her heated confrontation with Hee-Jun still simmered in her mind, leaving her restless. A profound urge to confront Yui-Hyuk gnawed at her; it was finally time to address the painful truths he had spent so long concealing from her.