Sunrise at Midnight | Iljae

Chapter 17 - Memory Loss

The words sound foreign in Ilhoon's mouth, a foul stench that now plagues the air after he speaks into the silent room; flooding with light.

The irony of it all. Ilhoon thinks for a brief moment.

Here he is, standing in this bright room dotted with bright blue walls- the happy remains of his childhood- now littered by the dark shadow of what has, and what is about to happen.

It's all mocking him. Everything is mocking him.

From the dusty medals and awards hanging proudly on the walls; to the framed pictures on his cabinet. Even the one that's broken into tiny fractures of glass, - in which he could only guess how that happened. Ilhoon cringes and shakes that brooding thought from his head, he doesn't need to think of that now.

He clears his throat, bringing his mind back to the reality of the situation- to the older man that's looking at him, unblinking. Intoxicated.

"Ilhoon... Ilhoon." The cold, raspy voice spits into the room. Almost as though he was testing the way his name sounded in his mouth. The unused assortment of letters filtering through the air and hitting Ilhoon square in the chest.

The boy blinks rapidly, losing the feeling in his limbs and somehow forgetting how to talk.

"It's true, where've you been all this time, my boy?"

Ilhoon awkwardly coughs out loud, not at all expecting that response.

"Uh- I-I moved out?" He ends up stuttering, unable to control the fear slithering its way up into his voice.

"No- no, don't be ridiculous, come upstairs. Yuna must be finished dinner by now, go get Jisu." The older man says as he attempts to get up out of the bed. He stumbles over his own feet and has to place a shaky hand on the bedside table to steady himself. Heaving a large sigh, he mumbles something along the lines of "old age." It was so slurred though, that Ilhoon wasn't exactly sure if that's what he even said.

"Mr Park, I don't think you understand-"

"Ilhoon, what's the matter with you today son? Call me dad!"

The boy feels his heart stop inside of his chest, all the air escaping out of him in a rush as he finally understands what Jisu's father is thinking, believing. He shakes his head, feeling as though he also needs to steady himself on the bedside table- for very different reasons. His legs somehow prove to be incapable of keeping his body upright.

"Where did you run off to after school? Jisu came home alone today- wait, you better not have gotten yourself a detention." Chinhwa sternly says, removing his hand from its refuge on the bedside table to point a stubby finger at the boy. In doing this, he loses his balance and staggers his way towards Ilhoon, who subconsciously takes a step back. His breath held captive in his mouth.

"Come now, up you get, we shall talk about this over dinner young man."

The older man struggles to walk to the door, keeping himself standing by hoisting himself up on the walls. Completely missing his unconscious daughter lying on the floor.

Ilhoon looks down at Jisu and then back up the man, "I'll be up in a minute... Dad." He ends up straining, his voice raspy as he walks over to his best friend on the ground.

With his heart beating outside of his chest, he bends down towards the unconscious girl, taking her wrist to check for a pulse. Jisu's body slowly rises up and down in succession, her pulse a soft thrum against Ilhoon's fingers.

She's breathing.

The boy exhales a sharp breath as he carefully takes her in his arms and places her in the unmade bed, using the blankets to wrap her in a makeshift cocoon.