The Power Of The Powerless Gambler

Chapter 7: Father's Love

During her junior high years, she endured a relentless fever that persisted for over a week. Nausea plagued her, causing her to throw up frequently, and she suffered from mild diarrhea. However, these symptoms paled in comparison to the excruciating pain that gripped her abdomen. Despite the intensity of her suffering, she concealed this agony from her family, choosing to endure it in silence.

Yuna fully understood the severity of her illness and the urgent need for medical attention. Yet, she chose to keep it hidden, knowing her family could barely afford basic necessities, let alone her medical expenses. Despite the intense pain, Yuna couldn't bear the thought of adding to her father's burden. She knew that if he saw her suffering, it would crush him, forcing him to endure twice the anguish she felt.

It's the guilt of hopelessness from actuality.

However, she underestimated the "father's love."

Early in the morning, he came home, his face a mask of worry. The moment he saw Yuna's pale, trembling form, panic seized him, and his breath quickened with fear. Without a second thought, he scooped her up, her fragile body feeling as light as a feather in his strong arms. His heart pounded in his chest as he raced to the hospital, each step fueled by the desperation to save his daughter.

"Father put me down. I am okay, so don't worry."

She's trying to sound okay with her hoarse voice. Yuna made a face and pouted her lips to protest.

"I know you are a fear tackler and very strong. I always am proud of you. But let your father do his responsibility, okay?" Her father's voice was soft, yet firm, as he cradled her in his arms, his heart breaking at the sight of his daughter's suffering.

"But, Pa... we can't afford hospital bills for me." Yuna's voice was barely a whisper, trembling as if she were on the verge of tears. The weight of the unspoken words pressed down on her—words she'd carried since she was a child. She had it in her head that they couldn't afford to have a sick daughter. If she became ill, she should die quickly—her mother had made that clear enough. It was the reason she never allowed herself to show any vulnerability in front of her family.

Her father's eyes softened as he looked at her, his grip tightening protectively. "I can offer my own life for you. So don't think we'll leave you to suffer because we don't have any money, okay?"

"But you're already a withering old man, though," she whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek as her defenses crumbled. The exhaustion, pain, and fear finally caught up with her, and she broke down in his arms. Her father held her close, his heart aching as he felt her tears wet his shirt.

As he rocked her gently, Yuna's sobs began to fade, and slowly, she drifted into sleep, the warmth and safety of her father's embrace lulling her into much-needed rest.

...

Yuna woke up with a hazy memory of her father's hand tightly holding hers and the soft melody of a song in a language she didn't understand, echoing in her mind just before she passed out on the hospital bed. As she blinked, she looked around, hoping to see him. Instead, a nurse leaned over her face kind but focused.

"Hi," Yuna croaked, her voice nasal and lacking its usual strength.

The nurse offered a warm smile. "How are you feeling? Would you like me to call your father?"

"It's okay," Yuna replied, her thoughts still scattered. "May I ask if I can leave the hospital now?"

The nurse shook his head gently. "You've undergone a complicated surgery, dear. It was a minimally invasive procedure, where we accessed the inside of your abdomen without making large incisions. Don't worry about the scars—they'll fade over time."