For All The Lost Women (Jung Taeju/My name)

The First Time

Keep in mind this is all literally made up by me, but with characters from the series My Name.
It'll be two chapters long.
Hope you'll enjoy it tho it's quite angsty I guess

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Mujin has only seen Taeju cry twice. The first time was when Taeju was thirteen and his faith broke.

The stoic man used to be an equally stoic teenager and while he could have been a good student, he lacked the interest to do anything that was unimportant in his eyes. He did understand why school was necessary, but the fact that it was called the only way to be able to make a living later on in life, made him want to show them how wrong they were. He was a smart kid, but was held back by many things in his early life. His father had been too busy with work to pay for the tiny apartment they lived in and his mother was often sick, forcing him to go home immediately after school to check on her.

Teachers felt sorry for the student who always seemed not to care at all. Taeju was afraid to loose his mother and therefore tried not to show any emotion at all. It was for his own protection. That's what they told themselves.
The truth was that Taeju really didn't feel anything. He was numb. When other kids picked on him for not talking much or pushed him away, he didn't react at all. Friends weren't his priority and if they weren't nice, why would he want to know them? He didn't feel lonely either because he had his mom. Taeju talked to her about everything for hours. How school went, how the weather was, the bird he saw up close and how dad had called earlier.
She loved hearing his voice and Taeju liked the way she always listened.
Unlike his father.

"What grade did you get?"

"I am sorry."

"How did that happen?"

"I didn't have time to study."

"Why not?"

"Mother wasn't feeling well."

"Don't blame this on her."

"I didn't."

"Don't talk back to me like that."

The next time his dad asked about his school Taeju didn't reply, just showing him the paper instead or the dirty jacket because he had fallen down. He was glad when he was alone with his mother again. Returning her smile when she looked up at her son, not caring about how well he did at school. It was not important to both of them.

Most nights Taeju did his homework at the table next to her until he would fall asleep with his head leaning against the couch. She would stroke his hair fondly. His mother never told him she was worried, because he had enough on his mind already. But she was scared her son would fail at school and not get a good job. She wanted a good life for him.
While she was caressing his head a few strands of dark hair were brushed aside, showing her the yellowish spot; a bruise fading away.

After that night he would return with bruises and cuts more frequently. She didn't comment on them, realizing he wouldn't tell the truth anyway. No one knew how good Taeju was at fighting or how it came to be, but he had learnt the hard way.

Taeju didn't care about other people, but that didn't mean he would let them bully him. He just wanted to live peacefully and people didn't let him. Because he did not like to talk to anyone at school he was the odd one out and they started picking on him. At first it could be ignored, but because they didn't get a reaction out of him, they tried harder to see when he would snap.

And he did.

One of the kids had to go to the hospital to get stitches in his head because Taeju had grabbed a rock while he was held onto the ground and smashed it onto his opponent. He had surprised himself, but once again, didn't feel much more.