Chapter Text
The first snow of this year had lingered long past sunset, turning the playground not too far outside of the Catholic orphanage into a quiet, frosted place. Lee Do walked its periphery with slow, measured steps.
The young boy rarely hurried these days. His gait was steady and deliberate, almost like someone forcing the world to slow down so he could keep up with it. Chief Cho said walking helped with nightmares. Lee Do wasn’t sure, but it helped him breathe at least.
His expression was unreadable as usual, ever since the last winter incident, lips pressed tightly into a thin line, dark, empty eyes taking in the cruel world without much expectations. He didn’t look like a young boy his age at all—lively, playing with his friends without a care in this world—but more like a wounded adult in a child’s body. Even his posture; slightly stiff, carried the silent weight of someone who had learned too early that safety was a fragile thing.
This routine had become mundane to him but at least it made him feel better, better than the thought of pulling a trigger to his parents’ murderer’s head. If he had made that decision, he couldn’t imagine what would have happened to him back then, where would he be now. The thought of that alone always brought a heavy sigh out of him. Something a boy like him shouldn't have felt.
The late evening was slowly turning darker, shifting into the night. Father Lee, the senior priest who took in Lee Do (temporarily) from Chief Cho didn’t mind him walking outside the orphanage because he understood how suffocating it must be to suddenly being chained up in a place full of rules and curfews to adhere. However, he reminded him to at least not wander off away from the orphanage at night for his safety. After all, Lee Do was smart and filial. Father Lee believed that he could carry himself well.
As he was about to turn back inside, something flickered in the corner of his vision. A small shape—thin, trembling, slipped between the slides like a frightened doe.
Lee Do stopped.
The figure stumbled, caught itself on an elevated concrete, then collapsed to its hands and knees.
At first, Lee Do only saw the outline—a boy, drenched, dirty worn out clothes, chest heaving as if he just ran miles away from wild boars. But as he approached, the details sharpened—the raw fear in the boy’s eyes, the way his hands shook so hard he could barely hold himself upright, the dirt streaking his cheeks like smeared shadows—everything caught Lee Do by surprise.
And then...their eyes met. Lee Do froze and the little boy flinched.