His Obsession ➸ Taekook ✓

- Thirty-first -

The room was bathed in a pleasant silence, the window slightly ajar, letting in a gentle spring breeze. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, a woman was brushing her child's hair with a peaceful smile, singing a lively tune from a nursery rhyme she had taken the habit to sing when she was in a good mood.

Her child did not move, her eyes riveted to her lap, no expression crossing her sweet, angel-like face. The child merely fidgeted with the ribbons on her dress, her actions conveying a certain anxiety. The child wanted to sing the nursery rhyme with her mother, but was unable to do so. It was as if her voice was stuck in her throat.

"Your hair has really grown, Hyuna." the woman remarked with a smile. "It suits you."

Hyuna simply hummed in reply, not looking up to her mother. She waited for several more minutes, the woman seemingly hypnotised by her long ebony hair, which reflected every ray of sunlight. Her mother was transfixed, her hair was truly magnificent. She was glad to have taken such good care of it. Her daughter would still be the most beautiful today.

Once she'd finished brushing it, she quickly braided it, making sure there were no rebellious strand to spoil her child's perfect haircut.

"There, all done. Go and look in the mirror, Hyuna."

The young girl nodded, without saying a word, and left the bed to go over to the mirror. The woman was right, she was a beauty. No-one could resist her angel's face, and it certainly ensured her a bright future in a world where beauty was crucial.

The woman watched her from the bed, a dreamy smile on her face, before finally rising to her feet, clapping her hands happily.

"Come on, we have to go, or you'll end up being late for your first day of school!"

Hyuna took one last look in the mirror, before nodding again, still in complete silence. Her mother took no notice, knowing that her daughter was extremely shy, even with her own family. It didn't matter, she didn't need to talk to her; the simple fact that she was there, by her side, was more than enough.

As her mother left the room, going to get her car keys to take her daughter, Hyuna headed for the study, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulders. She took advantage of this moment of solitude to look around her room. Everything was in shades of pink and purple, decorated to resemble the ideal bedroom. The one any little girl would dream of having. Everything was perfect, too perfect. It was as if this room had been created with a dream in mind, a hope that had never come true.

There were a few photo frames scattered around the room. But strangely, they were all face down. Hidden from the world. As if someone wanted to erase the reality that these photos represented. Hyuna felt her heart clench when she saw them. She let out a long sigh, before turning away.

"Hyuna, are you coming" exclaimed her mother from the doorway.

The child adjusted her bag on her shoulders, taking one last look at herself in the mirror with an expression only she could decipher, before leaving the room, joining her mother at the bottom of the stairs.

***

When the mother-daughter duo arrived outside the school, they found that most of the children had already gone inside, leaving only a few students outside, clearly late. Hyuna was quickly led by her mother, who took her to the gate, where one of the teachers was standing, greeting the children with a smile. When she saw Hyuna approaching, looking lost and shy, her smile widened even more, and she crouched down to speak kindly to her.

"Wow, you're really pretty! Is it your first day here?"

Hyuna didn't answer, frozen in place.

"Yes," her mother replied. "We had to change schools because of some problems, so she's a bit nervous..."

"Oh, I see... Don't worry, everything's going to be fine." she whispered sympathetically to Hyuna. "Everyone's nice here, I'm sure you'll make lots of friends."

Hyuna nodded slowly, still without a word, and after the encouragement of the two women, finally decided to enter the school. Like the other students, she was called into a classroom, and took a seat at a table at the back of the class, without looking at anyone. Once everyone was settled, the teacher began to call the names.

"... Jeon Jeongguk?"

The child turned his head towards the teacher, his gaze blank, and gently raised his hand to signal his presence.

"Here."

A few eyes fell on him, frowning, as did the teacher. Nobody had expected to find an adorable little girl with a boy's name. But once the surprise wore off, the call continued, and the child returned to his contemplation of the window.

***

That evening, the child locked itself in the room after dinner and ran to take refuge under the sheets. Jeongguk wanted to cry. But he knew that no tears would ever leave his eyes again.

Six months. It had been six months since his sister died of a cancer she'd had to fight all her life. She had never had a happy life, playing in the playground with her friends at school. She had only known hospitals and chemotherapy. She had only known the coldness and weakness of her body. Jeongguk, too, had always known her like that.

He missed her terribly. Although she was destined to die and he wasn't, she had always been the Jeons' ray of sunshine. And when the sun disappeared, everything fell apart.

Chae Jeon had completely lost her sanity. The loss of her daughter had been too painful for her to bear. So her brain had done what it could to preserve her: replace her son's existence with that of her daughter, erasing her daughter's painful death. Hyuna had never died, she lived in Jeongguk.

And the boy didn't dare break his mother again. So he accepted. Even if people looked at him the wrong way, even if it killed him slowly. He was the only one who could save what little was left of his family.

He was only ten years old, and already he was carrying this responsibility on his shoulders. He hated it. He wanted to scream and cry, but he didn't. He kept it all inside. Contenting himself with wearing the dresses his sister couldn't wear, sleeping in the room she'd never slept in. Playing, when his mother was watching, with the toys Hyuna had never used. He recreated an illusion that his mother kept alive, the one she had spent ten years dreaming. It was all a mask, all a fake, but Jeongguk would play along. For his mother, and for Hyuna.

Because when he was wearing her clothes, he had the impression, just a little, like a flicker of light in the total darkness, that his sister was back with him.