Chapter Text
Three days had passed.
Three days since he lost his father. Three lonely, terrible days without any sound in the house. Quiet as death. Perhaps death hasn't only taken his father, but his world as well. His home. His everything.
The thought scared the little boy to the core. It's one thing to be an orphan, another to be homeless.
Choi Yeong has never slept anywhere without a roof, and now with his house on fire, burning like it's hell itself, he's afraid that he would be lucky if he could find some ruined warehouse to sleep in tonight. Just until somebody comes looking for him.
If they even come.
It's getting quite a bit cold, and still he doesn't dare getting out of the yard.
With his dry hands, he tries to clean his face from the tears and try not to think about his father's corpse burning inside. Because Choi Yeong is still a boy, a child. He has never seen the death so close before. The doctor that had confirmed that his father's heart is no longer beating felt only a little bad enough for the kid to change his father's clothes. The child should be thankful he didn't take money for it.
Yeong, no matter how lazy, was smart enough to not use the rest of the money he had on a funeral no one might even attend to. So instead, he wrote. For the ones that might help if they were asked. Someone would come, he wished. Begged. Almost prayed for it. Without hope, he had no idea how to go on.
From then, he had only slept in the hall, afraid to get too close to his father's room, where his cold ice body was laid on the ground. Choi Yeong didn't want to cry again, so he pretended that nothing existed. He slept, woke up and ate whatever was left in the house, and slept again, until he woke up with a headache in the midnight, red and yellow light coming from everywhere. It took him only a few seconds to realise that his house is burning. He almost called for his dad until the reality hit him, the only one that could save him was no one but himself.
Thank God he had slept in the hall and not his room, or he would have been ashes and bones by now.
Some villagers and neighbours wanted to help, to take him in, and as much as Young was starving for a warm meal and a safe place to sleep, he kindly denied them. He cannot risk leaving until he sees a familiar face.
Something tells him that once he leaves this ruined shell of what used to be his home, he will never be able to come back.
So he waits for hours in the yard, barely getting sleep with the smell of ashes, until finally in the midday, someone calls for him. "Hey, boy."
The man standing in front of Yeong is blank, that's the first thing that comes to the his mind. His clothing is all black and his hat covers half of his face. His sword is hanging from his waistband and terrified, Choi Yeong takes a step back. He has never seen a real sword from this close before.
The man suddenly stiffens, and then with an uncomfortable posture, he takes off his hat and Young can now see his face. Soft skin, full eyebrows, kind eyes. Eyes that remind him of his father's. A light brown, rare among most people.
"I'm your father's friend, Moon Chi-hoo." The man says and then pauses, leaning down to stare into his eyes intensely, "how old are you, kid?"
Yeong ignores the question, "If you are dad's friend, how come I've never seen you?"
"I was travelling. I've just come back, I was aware about your father's illness. I didn't expect him to be dead already." The man he now knows is called Moon Chi-hoo says, with hints of regret in his words. Then he seems to freeze, noticing the ruins behind the child.
"What happened here?"
"Fire. Everything is destroyed. He–" The child seems to struggle with words, using his hands to rub his red eyes, "You're late. He's gone."
Moon Chi-hoo tries to think of something to say. To comfort the child. What do you tell an 8, 7? Years old kid that has lost his only parent and house in just a few days? But then, the world is cruel and this boy's fate is pain.
At first when he had received a letter from Choi Won-jik, he was surprised. It had been a fairly long time since they had contacted each other. He was shamelessly bothered and frustrated. He didn't think he had the time or the decency to raise and protect a child. Why can't someone closer to the family take him in?
Now he understands why. This child is utterly alone. What would he have done had Chi-hoo not come? Would he have stayed here until he caught the eyes of Japanese soldiers or slave traders?
With a gentler tone, he asks the child, "tell me boy, what's your name?"
"The youngest son of Choi family, Yeong."
"Alright Choi Yeong. I can take you to your aunt, do you trust me?"
The child looks at him with skeptical eyes, nodding slowly. In truth, he doesn't trust this man that he has never seen before. He also doesn't trust his fate, for all he knows, maybe he should have been ashes next to his dead father's body. Maybe he shouldn't have escaped that damn fire.
But it's been so long, so horrifying and he's very tired, starved and scared. Yeong can't stand to remain like this any longer.
He tries to comfort himself with the thought that if this Moon Chi-hoo wanted to hurt him, he would have already, and so he takes his hand.
The meeting with lady Choi is stressful, to say the least. After days of traveling to the capital, the first thing that his aunt does after the embraces and tears, is scolding him about his bad smell and dirty clothes. As though he could have packed his clothes before running out of the house, or could have went to a guesthouse to use a warm bath made for him by maids.
It's not that Yeong has ever been at ease with his aunt before. She's difficult and strict, expects perfection and seems to care for Choi family's honor more than heaven itself. His father never cared for such bothersome stuff, and taught him just to be clean enough to be healthy, "The more ordinary and lowly you may seem, the more you learn to live for yourself.", he used to say.
That's why now, seeing Lady Choi and Chi-hoo argue about who should take him in, confuses him more than other things. Why would the Choi family even want him, now that his father is no longer alive? Yeong is lazy, unlikeable and useless. His father cut ties with most of their relatives and it's more convenient to stay that way, distant from the family that didn't bother to check on him after his father died. Even aunt Choi was too busy with the palace to check her letters. Maybe had they cared, his father could have at least gotten a funeral* he thinks bitterly.
"I want to go with Mr. Chi-hoo!"
As though they expected him to be a doll without his own voice, both of them look at him in shock after he interrupts them. Lady Choi focuses on him now, a confused look on her face.
Chi-hoo, with a ghost of a smile on his face, returns his attention back at Lady Choi, "You know this is right, Hanyeol. That's what he wanted."
His aunt purses her lips, "That's why I'm against sending him with you. My brother has always had strange ideas about life. The best I can do is saving his child. His only heir." She says, frowning.
"You can't decide this for him. It was his only wish. You can't decide what the child wants either."
Choi Yeong dares to say once again: "I want to go with him. If father trusted him, I trust him too." The little smile Chi-hoo gives him is assuring, and it makes him feel inexplicably warm, somebody wants him after all.