What I Can Do (6)
“Good night, Pyeongha. Tomorrow's a day off from the school, so sleep in and wake up slowly.”
“Mmhhm…… good night to you too, Nanny.”
Pyeongha mumbled his goodbye with a sullen face.
Yeon-ha was halfway out the door when she paused, glancing back at him with a look of quiet pity.
“……Pyeongha.”
“Yeah?”
“Let's have something delicious tomorrow. Think about what you want to eat.”
“Okay, I will! Heehee.”
At her kind words, Pyeongha's face lit up as though nothing had ever been wrong, and he grinned. Yeon-ha gave him an affectionate look and slipped out, leaving the boy alone — and no sooner was the door shut than the gloom settled back over him. He crouched down on the floor of his room, hugging his knees.
“……I really can't learn martial arts?”
It had been so much fun when his uncles taught him in secret.
Far more fun than playing with the animals by himself. More fun than going night-fishing with his friends. More fun than even sparring with Sotae.
……But Uncle Seokdu said he'd teach me.
Had the man already forgotten his promise? These days Pyeongha could hardly even get a private word with him.
“……Tch.”
Arms wrapped tight around his knees, Pyeongha felt hot tears welling up in his eyes at last.
And in that moment—
“Ahem, ahem.”
“……Huh?”
“……Might you step outside a moment?”
“Grandfather Hyeolwang?”
At the sound of the old man's voice beyond the door, Pyeongha flung it wide open.
Hyeolwang stood there, hands clasped behind his back.
“Still awake, I see.”
“I was just about to sleep.”
“Were you, now…… crying, perhaps?”
“……No.”
Pyeongha looked away, wiping the brimming tears from his eyes with one hand before speaking again.
“I haven't cried yet.”
“……So I see.”
The boy's stubborn pride seemed to amuse him; a gentle smile spread across Hyeolwang's lips. Then he slowly bent down, lowering himself until their eyes were level.
“Pyeongha.”
“……Yes?”
“I heard from your uncles. That you wish to learn martial arts?”
“……Yeah. I do.”
Pyeongha nodded, his face fallen.
“But they won't teach me. Earlier, Uncle Green Forest King said he would, and even then they said no……”
“……That must have hurt your feelings greatly.”
“……It did.”
The boy's voice cracked slightly as he answered. He had hidden it well on the surface, but the depth of his disappointment and sorrow was plain to hear.
“I thought they'd help me when I said I wanted to learn…… I thought they'd tell me to work hard……”
Watching the boy wipe his tears with both hands, Hyeolwang's expression darkened a little.
“……Do you resent them?”
“……”
“For standing in the way of your wishes?”
His gaze seemed to look through Pyeongha at someone else entirely. The boy wiped away his tears, lifted his head, and stared up at him.
“No, I don't resent them.”
“No? Why ever not?”
“Because I love them.”
“……”
“My uncles and Nanny are the people I love most in the whole world. So I can't resent them. Resenting someone means hating them.”
“……”
“It's just…… it hurts here. Because they don't understand how I feel.”
Pyeongha pressed a small hand to his chest as he spoke, his face downcast. Each word seemed to fly straight and bury itself deep in Hyeolwang's heart, and the old man's eyes grew profound.
Swish.
A wrinkled hand came to rest atop Pyeongha's head.
“……I am sorry.”
“Huh?”
“And…… I thank you. For showing me your heart.”
“……Grandfather?”
Blinking at the faint tremor in Hyeolwang's voice, Pyeongha peered up at him. After a moment the old man gathered himself, and as if nothing had happened at all, smiled and began again.
“Pyeongha, your uncles — your Big Uncle Gwangpae above all — are very strong men.”
“Yeah, I know. Big Uncle is amazing.”
“Indeed he is. His body is mighty, yes — but your uncle's true strength lies within. A heart that fears nothing in this world, a heart that can never be broken. Few in all the world possess such a heart.”
Swish, swish.
Pyeongha listened, bewildered, clearly not grasping the meaning of the words, as Hyeolwang stroked his hair and went on.
“But living with a heart that strong has bred one flaw in him. When he feels true fear, he does not know what to do.”
“What's true fear?”
“True fear, my boy, is you.”
“Huh? Me?”
Pyeongha's eyes went perfectly round.
“That can't be right…… why would Big Uncle be scared of me?”
“There are men in this world who care nothing for their own wounds, yet tremble at the thought of others being hurt. Your uncle was never such a man by nature, but…… when it comes to you, he seems to have become one.”
“……”
“A man may overcome his own death with resolve. But the loss of you is not something he could ever steel himself to accept. That is what your uncle fears.”
“Then…… what do I do?”
Pyeongha asked in a trembling voice.
“Should I tell Big Uncle not to worry about me? Then can I learn martial arts?”
“Everything hinges upon your uncle's decision. But as I see it, you may well be able to help him reach it.”
“Help him? How?”
At his cryptic answer, Pyeongha's eyes sparkled.
“How do I help?”
“Even I cannot say what the precise method should be. But the task itself is clear enough.”
Having said his piece, Hyeolwang lifted his hand from the boy's head.
“Put his mind at ease.”
“At…… ease?”
“That is so. The assurance that he will never regret having taught you martial arts.”
“……”
“That alone, I believe, is the way to comfort your uncle — a man facing true fear for the first time in his life — and help him come to a decision.”
“……At ease.”
Chewing over the old man's words, Pyeongha sank deep into thought. Hyeolwang departed soon after, but the boy left alone behind those closed eyes could not, for the life of him, drift off to sleep.
Scrree, scrape. Scrreee.
“……HaaAAAM.”
Early in the morning.
Sweeping the courtyard as he did every day to the sound of birdsong, Heukpyo yawned hugely.
“Whew…… am I getting old or what? Two days straight of that brutal brawl and I'm worn out.”
“Tired, Uncle?”
“Yeah, tired. Today I'm taking it easy and having a nap, that's— WHUH—?! P-Pyeongha!”
Heukpyo jolted, startled by the boy who had somehow materialized at his side, and scrambled backward to put distance between them.
Bracing himself for Pyeongha to cling and beg for lessons, he edged away step by sneaky step — but today's Pyeongha was strangely different. The boy simply stood there, gazing up at him with bright, sharp, clear eyes.
“Uncle, where's Big Uncle?”
“Uh…… Gwangpae, you mean? Hmm…… probably still asleep?”
“Okay, got it!”
Pyeongha nodded briskly at the answer and marched off with sturdy little steps toward Gwangpae's quarters. Sensing that something about the boy's manner was off, Heukpyo cautiously trailed after him.
“Pyeongha, what's wrong? Why Big Uncle all of a sudden?”
“I have something to say to him!”
“Something to say? What, out of nowhere?”
“Yeah, I'm going to put Big Uncle's mind at ease.”
“Huh? At ease?”
The more words they exchanged, the less any of it made sense. As Heukpyo followed the boy in bewilderment, a familiar second voice drifted into his ear.
“And what, precisely, does 'putting his mind at ease' mean?”
“GAH—! You little—! You scared the life out of me! Make some noise when you walk up on a man!”
“If one trains the Traceless Presence Art to its extreme, one may stand right beside another and……”
“Enough. I heard you, so shut it already.”
By then Pyeongha had reached Gwangpae's quarters. Heukpyo clapped a serious hand over Baek Ryeong's mouth, and Baek Ryeong, nodding, fell silent — and together they quietly watched the boy's every move.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Big Uuuuuncle! It's me! I have something to say!”
“……”
“Big Uuuuuuuncle!”
Slam.
Pyeongha's voice rang through the knocking, and a moment later the doors of the annex where Gwangpae resided swung wide open, revealing the scene within to every eye.
“Pyeongha.”
“Huh? Uncle Seokdu?”
In the small courtyard of the annex, Seokdu and Gwangpae stood mid-conversation, both turning to look at the newcomers.
“Pyeongha, your uncle and I were in the middle of talking with your Big Uncle. Could you come back later?”
“I have something important to say too……”
“Oh? And what might this talk be about……?”
“Ahem!”
Gwangpae's cough cut the exchange short. When they all turned to him, his face — unlike its usual self — was knotted with grave deliberation, and he gave Pyeongha a slow nod.
“Pyeongha. Something important, you say?”
“Yeah.”
“Fine, then. Let's hear it. Before Seokdu.”
“Okay!”
Permission granted, Pyeongha slipped a small hand into his robe. A moment later he drew out a single sheet of paper, folded neatly many times over, shuffled forward, and held it out to Gwangpae.
“Here, Uncle. Take it.”
“……What's this, then?”
“It's a contract. The kind you use when making a promise with Nanny.”
“A what? A contract?”
No — where in the world had a contract come from? As Gwangpae tilted his head and unfolded the paper, the Dark Sky Four Monsters, curiosity getting the better of them, swarmed to his side at once.
1. Pyeongha will complain to no one and study martial arts from his uncles with all his effort.
2. In exchange for learning martial arts from his uncles, Pyeongha will lose to no one.
3. Pyeongha will absolutely never be badly hurt, and will absolutely never die.
4. If Pyeongha breaks even one rule in this contract, Pyeongha goes to hell.
……A contract painstakingly written out in wobbly, crooked letters.
A few characters here and there were misspelled, but one thing was certain: for Pyeongha, this was a document composed in utter earnestness, born of the greatest deliberation of his young life.
Caught between laughing and crying, the four of them turned their eyes to the boy.
“Pyeongha, you……”
“I promise.”
“……”
“I'll make sure you never regret teaching me. I'll never lose to anyone. And if it looks like I'm going to lose, I won't fight — I'll run away instead.”
“……”
“So…… I want to learn martial arts from my uncles.”
A small fist thrust upward, clenched tight — a vow in flesh.
Those serious, unblinking eyes burned with a resolve that did not waver, far too mature for a child.
As Pyeongha looked straight up at him and poured every ounce of himself into those words, Gwangpae saw superimposed upon the boy a figure he knew better than any other.
The figure of an old friend he had never once managed to truly defeat.
“……Haah.”
At last Gwangpae let out one long sigh, turned his face from the boy's gaze to look up at the sky, and thought with a bitter smile.
……That's cheating, you cursed little brat.
Staring up at him with eyes just like that man's, promising things no child should promise.
A vow to lose to no one — one that even becoming the finest under heaven could not guarantee he would keep.
And if he refused to honor this resolve here and now, he would become a coward worse than a mere child. How, then, could he possibly refuse any longer?
'You must prepare Pyeongha to overcome any fate that befalls him. That is what you, above all, must truly do for the boy.'
The words the old man Hyeolwang had spoken the night before echoed in his ears.
Realizing at last that he could neither win against Pyeongha nor flee from him, Gwangpae slowly met the boy's eyes and spoke.
“Pyeongha. Listen to me.”
“Yeah!”
“I despise a man who breaks his word. The moment a man breaks a promise made between men, he's nothing but an empty husk. Understand?”
“Yeah! I understand!”
“……Good.”
Swish.
Folding the contract Pyeongha had handed him in half, Gwangpae tucked it into his robe and curled one corner of his mouth upward. Then he balled his great fist and thrust it out toward the boy.
“It's a promise. Between you and me, Pyeongha.”
“Yeah! A promise!”
Pyeongha beamed, bumping his little fist against the outstretched one.
In that instant, the Dark Sky Four Monsters' five-year-old vow to raise the child as an ordinary boy was painted over anew — with a promise made to Pyeongha himself.