The Weight of Kindness
I’d underestimated theater.
As Mr. Deoksu carried me on his back, I let out a long sigh.
I wasn’t some general stumbling back from a desperate battle, so what on earth was this sight?
Once the performance ended, my legs simply gave out. Honestly, I didn’t have an ounce of strength left in me.
To be fair, it really had been a battle.
It was that exhausting.
Theater had no editing. If you made a mistake at that hour, there was no taking it back—ever.
Maybe that was why.
I’d heard people say one-man plays were like a shaman’s rite.
The energy packed into it was no joke. I’d been tearing across that stage all by myself; of course my legs had gone soft.
I shook my head at once.
No, no.
No matter how hard it had been, getting carried away on someone’s back after finishing a play was still a little much.
I’m pretty sure my stamina was supposed to have improved…
I pressed my forehead against Mr. Deoksu’s back. Something felt off.
How could a kid with good stamina be this limp?
A groan slipped out of me before I could stop it. Maybe because I kept wriggling around, Mr. Deoksu asked,
"Does anything hurt?"
I shook my head.
"Nope. As long as Gong-ja’s just low on energy, I’m fine."
"The play must have been grueling. I could feel it even from the audience."
Huh? Feel what?
"It was enough to drain every last bit of Gong-ja’s energy. It was incredible."
Well, that was probably praise.
I gave a small laugh and swung my legs once.
"Did Gong-ja do well?"
"Very well. So well that being this tired is only natural."
"I’m embarrassed. I stood onstage once and got exhausted."
"Gong-ja’s stamina is perfectly fine. You simply did more than that."
Well, Mr. Deoksu’s judgment was probably accurate.
I sighed and rubbed my forehead against his back again. Maybe I really was completely spent, because my body felt as limp as wet laundry.
"Still, just in case, we should look into some restorative food."
What?
"Would eel be good, or carp?"
Excuse me?
"Anything that suits Gong-ja’s constitution would be best. We should stop by a traditional medicine clinic."
"Sir, Gong-ja’s still little!"
What kind of restorative food do you give to a kid?
"Since you’re little, you need to eat. And while we’re at it, it would be better if Young Master Jeok came along too. Soccer takes a lot out of him."
Jeok needed that because he exercised. I didn’t!
"I know a good place."
Oh, so he knew a good clinic or something? That would be nice… no, wait, that wasn’t it.
"I-I’m fine!"
"I know Gong-ja’s body well. You need to replenish your energy."
No, but kids this age were supposed to be full of life!
Just as I was about to protest again, Mr. Deoksu opened the waiting room door and set me down on the sofa. Then he handed me a cup of something.
"What is this?"
"Red ginseng extract, double-boiled."
I quietly sniffed it. The bitter smell hit me, and my brow crumpled at once.
For a second, I thought, Something’s wrong.
I’m not usually this bad with bitter things, am I?
"Drink it."
I took a sip first, just to test it. The moment the bitterness touched my tongue, an intense urge seized me.
I want to spit it out!
But this was red ginseng. Precious stuff. In my last life, I would’ve been grateful to get my hands on something like this.
Damn it. But I still want to spit it out.
It felt like I’d swallowed lava. I pinched my nose in silence and forced it down with all my strength.
Tears spilled out.
"Gong-ja, are you all right?"
"Sir, this is way too bitter."
Maybe because I was still a kid, my tongue was absurdly sensitive. Mr. Deoksu hurriedly rummaged through my backpack, but because I didn’t usually carry candy or anything like that, nothing came out.
"Oh dear, I’m sorry. Gong-ja usually eats so well that I didn’t prepare anything separately."
Well, I didn’t know I’d react like this either.
My thoughts were perfectly rational, but my body’s changes weren’t. Overwhelmed, I started shedding big, fat tears. Just then, as Mr. Deoksu hurriedly began searching through another bag, the waiting room door suddenly opened.
Click.
Huh? We wouldn’t be greeting anyone separately, would we?
I’d heard that my mother handled the guests. So she had been seeing them off until after the play ended.
Ah!
The person who came in was being guided by a staff member. I tried to get up, tears still streaming down my face, but immediately toppled backward onto my rear.
Thud.
"Gong-ja!"
"Gong-ja!"
Ah, right. I’d completely forgotten my legs were still useless.
My bottom hurt. But this was no time to sit around fussing over that. The person who had come in was someone very important.
I beamed at Sister Theresa. She hurried over and helped me up.
"Oh dear. That must hurt."
Oh no, I’d worried her.
"Gong-ja doesn’t hurt!"
"Of course you do. I heard that thump just now."
Sister Theresa lifted me up and set me on the sofa. Perhaps because she’d spent so much time caring for children, she looked wonderfully practiced.
I looked at Sister Theresa, whom I hadn’t seen in a long time. Her kind expression was exactly the same as I remembered.
I suppose it would be normal if she didn’t remember me?
How long did children’s memories even last?
I once heard some actor say that children remember things even from when they’re still in the womb…
What should I do?
Sister Theresa reached out and stroked my cheek. For some reason, I couldn’t stop myself. I spread my arms wide and hugged her.
"I missed you!"
You’re doing well, right? My first mother.
"Oh my. Gong-ja. Do you remember who I am?"
"Yes! When Gong-ja was little, you held me!"
Of course I remembered. If it hadn’t been for Sister Theresa, I would have died out in the cold.
How have you been?
I used some coins to heal your slipped disc and make you healthier.
Did it help at all?
Sister Theresa brushed my cheek with her hand. Her palm was a little rough, but that only made it feel warmer.
"You’ve grown so beautifully, our Gong-ja."
"Yes! Gong-ja grew and grew!"
All thanks to you, Sister Theresa.
"I’ve been watching on TV. The drama our Gong-ja was in was the talk of Moseongwon, too."
Wow, so everyone had been watching.
Ah, that makes me unexpectedly happy.
When I was acting, I hadn’t even thought about that side of it. I lowered my head, feeling oddly shy.
There were people I never even imagined cheering for me.
Goodness, I’m sorry. If I’d known, I would’ve tried even harder.
I would’ve wrung out every last drop of effort I had—every bit of strength down to the bottle I used to drink formula from.
At the time, I thought I’d done my best, but looking back now, I couldn’t help regretting it.
And I was happy.
It had been an ordinary enough connection, really. I’d just lived in the orphanage until I was adopted.
And yet they were cheering for me!
Maybe it was because Sister Theresa was so much like an angel. Everyone there must be good-hearted.
My chest prickled all at once.
The bitter stage play is over, and now I’m getting emotional after the fact.
No, seriously, why are you all so kind? I’m weak against this kind of thing.
Goodness is stronger than malice, after all.
I took a quiet breath. At this rate, I really might start sniffling.
"Let me have another look at our Gong-ja. Oh, Lord. This cuteness is still here. Are you healthy, Gong-ja?"
"Gong-ja is strong!"
I ate so well and slept so well. It was always Sister Theresa who worried about my health.
"Sister Theresa! Are you healthy?"
"Of course I am. I used to have pain in my back and a bit of a stabbing ache in my chest, but after Gong-ja came along, it seems to have all gone away. Could our Gong-ja have the gift of healing?"
Wow.
It was probably half a joke, but she wasn’t completely wrong.
Though it was because of the coins.
I smiled and hugged Sister Theresa again. She patted my back and said,
"Maybe our Gong-ja is so adorable that he cured my illness all by himself."
No way. Looks are just looks, after all.
"It’s true, Gong-ja. Just seeing you smile makes me feel full even if I haven’t eaten. It even feels like I wouldn’t hurt anymore, even if I were sick."
"That’s because Sister Theresa likes Gong-ja!"
"Oh my, caught red-handed?"
I burst out laughing. Sister Theresa looked at my face again.
"Now then, let me take another look. Is my little one healthy?"
"Gong-ja is really healthy!"
"I just saw you fall over a moment ago, though?"
My shoulders twitched.
"Th-that was because the play had ended! I was tense!"
"Goodness. Our Gong-ja is so adorable I’m worried something terrible might happen to you."
No, if I’m adorable, I’m adorable—what part of that is terrible?
"I’m relieved at least that Ms. Su-jeong has become your mother. But I’m still worried some bad person will whisk you away. Every time I see the phrase 'beauty that shortens life' or 'a face that topples kingdoms,' I pray to the Lord and ask Him to help our Gong-ja grow up healthy and strong."
W-wait, Sister Theresa.
What kind of beauty am I supposed to be, one that brings down a nation?
I’m just a perfectly ordinary face genius, aren’t I? Sure, I know this face is very cute.
Honestly, that’s a bit of an exaggeration.
But Sister Theresa seemed completely sincere.
Maybe that’s just overflowing love?
In that case, there was nothing for it. I gave an awkward smile.
Sister Theresa kept stroking my face. I stared quietly at the wrinkles around her eyes.
What a genuinely good person.
Maybe the world keeps turning because of people like her.
I asked the question I’d been wondering about—the child who had taken such good care of me when I was at the orphanage.
"Is Noah hyung doing well too?"
"Oh my, Gong-ja. You remember Noah too?"
"Yes!"
"Our Gong-ja really is a genius! Your memory is amazing!"
Well, let’s say it is.
That feels like a bit of a stretch, though.
Still, I wanted to hear first about the well-being of my benefactor.
"Noah has been absorbed in soccer these days. Some people have shown up saying they want to support him, so he’s working hard."
Wow.
"Noah hyung plays soccer?"
"Yes. They say Noah has a great deal of talent. When he has matches, we sometimes go cheer him on as well."
Oh? There’s another soccer-playing kid I know too.
"Do you happen to know someone named Ma Jeok?"
"Hmm?"
I shook my head. There were probably plenty of kids playing soccer across South Korea; it would be a stretch for them all to know one another.
"My cousin hyung plays soccer too! His name is Ma Jeok!"
"I know. Noah said he was a remarkable player."
Wow. What a coincidence!
I grabbed Sister Theresa’s hand tightly and asked,
"Is Noah hyung’s dream to become a soccer player?"
Good for him—he’d already settled on a path. Noah hyung was amazing.
"Noah would like that very much."
I broke into a grin. Good, good. Then I’d be able to repay him.
"Sister Theresa! Gong-ja wants to help hyung!"
"Huh?"
"I know from my cousin hyung playing soccer. Soccer costs a lot of money! Gong-ja has lots of money! I want to help!"
If I could repay kindness this way, it would be an honor.
My heart swelled. Fireworks seemed to go off in my head.
Come to think of it, this was the kind of dream I’d always had.
Repaying a kindness.
This life really is wonderful.
To be able to help the child who had saved me on that freezing day—it felt like I could sit still and still be full to bursting.
"Gong-ja. No, that’s all right. He’s already receiving support from several places."
It seemed Sister Theresa was going to refuse.
Well, she’s the same person who turned down my mother’s offer in one shot.
But I couldn’t leave it at that.
I clutched Sister Theresa’s hand even tighter.
"Sister Theresa! Gong-ja is loved everywhere he goes!"
The wrinkles around her eyes looked especially gentle. I smiled brightly.
"So I want to give back the love I’ve received!"
Honestly, when you’ve been this lucky, you can’t just keep it all to yourself.
And besides, it makes no sense to live this flashy, high-profile life and still not help my savior.
I pleaded as sincerely as I could.
"Please let Gong-ja help!"