Chapter 122
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 122
A few more days had passed.
Since their outing, Eun-chae had added a new routine to her day: gazing into the aquarium they had bought.
Even after clinging to him all day, she would suddenly get up and go to where the aquarium was. She would plop down on the floor and begin watching it, and once she started, she showed no signs of getting up anytime soon.
Dokyun let out a soft chuckle as he watched Eun-chae stare blankly at the tank. The sight was a little comical, but also somehow happy, and it made a smile spread across his face without him realizing it.
“You like it that much?”
“Yes, I like it.”
She answered with a nod.
A small smile touched Dokyun’s lips again. He went and sat beside her, gazing into the aquarium just as she was.
Inside the tank, small, ornamental tropical fish were swimming about diligently.
Exactly six of them.
Just as the employee had recommended, they had only put in the number of fish appropriate for the tank’s size.
Dokyun watched the tank for a moment before shifting his gaze to Eun-chae, who was staring with her mouth agape in a little ‘o’ of wonder. He continued his thoughts.
She’s gotten so much better.
She no longer flinched at the sight of knives, nor did she call herself ‘Eun-ah’ anymore. She could now wander around the house and the yard on her own without him having to lead her, and most importantly, the ways she expressed her emotions had become much more varied.
Eun-chae could now look at the flowers blooming in the yard and say, “They’re pretty.” She could taste food and describe it as “sweet,” “salty,” or “spicy.” And above all, she had come to understand the concept of “like.”
Not “like” in the sense of love, but in the sense of preference.
Eun-chae could now say she “liked” meat and “disliked” vegetables.
She could look at wildflowers and say she “liked” them, and see a bug crawling among them and say she “disliked” it.
When he stroked her head or hugged her, she would say she “liked” it, but if he hummed a song or tickled her, she would say she “disliked” it.
She had learned so much before he knew it.
Thinking about it made him feel overwhelmed with emotion, a warmth spreading through his chest.
A smile crept onto Dokyun’s face as the feeling filled him. He soon stood up and spoke to Eun-chae.
“It’s time to eat now.”
“Just a little longer.”
Dokyun felt a surge of exasperation at her reply. She had been there for an hour already, and it was getting past their mealtime.
“You said that a little while ago, too.”
“…Just a little.”
This was another change that had come as Eun-chae began to assert herself: she had started to whine a little.
For Dokyun, this was a truly happy development, but he couldn’t help feeling troubled seeing her skip her meal to just stare blankly.
How can I get her to get up? As he pondered this, Dokyun came up with a suitable idea and spoke, as if to himself.
“Oh? Well, I guess I’ll have to eat alone. We’re having meat today, too…”
He said this while glancing at her. As expected, Eun-chae reacted to the word “meat” with uncanny speed, jumping to her feet and hugging him.
“Food.”
“Shall we go?”
“Yes.”
Dokyun chuckled again at the sight of Eun-chae, her expression completely changed, now leading him to the kitchen, and followed her.
*
There was something he had learned over the course of their life together.
Eun-chae, who was so full of curiosity that she roamed inside and outside the house all day, had one place she absolutely refused to go.
She won’t go near the study at all.
He didn’t know why. He could only vaguely guess from her behavior that she treated the space where the study was as if it didn’t exist.
Wasn’t it strange? This was a child who would find and squeeze herself into spaces that made him wonder, “Was this even here before?”, yet she uniquely avoided that one place. It was right next to the dress room, a space she could easily go to if she wanted, but she never did.
From this, he could deduce that the study was a place related to Eun-chae’s trauma, but he couldn’t figure out anything beyond that.
He wanted to find out, no matter what.
If it was the root of her trauma, that meant the clues to healing her wounds were also there.
After mulling it over for a few days, Dokyun came up with a slightly indirect approach.
I’ll foster her interest in books.
If her aversion was to the space itself, he would help her erase that aversion. That seemed like a good method.
The next thing he considered was what kind of books she might like.
Since her core personality was Eun-ah, he wasn’t worried about things like reading comprehension. Besides, hadn’t she already amply proven her ability to learn?
The only thing to consider was her taste.
Dokyun recalled all the things Eun-chae had shown interest in so far.
…Mostly natural things.
She was more interested in natural things than artificial ones. Grass or fish rather than tools. And people.
In that case.
Fairy tales?
Fairy tales seemed appropriate. Above all, they contained a moral. In that they gave the reader something to think about afterward, there was nothing better for restoring her perception of books themselves.
If he had his way, he would have liked to read the web novels he enjoyed with her, but Dokyun knew.
His favorite works were not something he could show to just anyone.
Suddenly, the memory of the last time he’d been intimate with Eun-ah flashed through his mind.
—H-Honeybee-niiim…! Y-Your favorite… works…!
The memory made Dokyun shake his head vigorously.
…Definitely not those.
It would be beneficial for the world if his favorite works were sealed away for all eternity.
Fairy tales it is.
Having made his decision, Dokyun looked up and watched Eun-chae, who was once again staring blankly at the aquarium.
What kind of book would she like?
Probably not one with a princess.
Eun-ji would love anything with a princess, but he felt Eun-chae would prefer a more traditional fairy tale.
After thinking for a while longer, Dokyun mentally shortlisted a few books he thought Eun-chae would like, then stood up and headed for the study.
He didn’t come here often himself, but he had memorized the general location of the books when he had delivered them during Eun-seol’s hospitalization.
The fairy tales were in the corner of the left bookshelf.
Dokyun roughly selected about ten fairy tales where animals were the protagonists, gathered them up, and returned to the living room.
As he came down the hallway, he saw Eun-chae, who had gotten up from her spot, approaching him. Dokyun held out the books in his hand and spoke.
“Should I read you a fairy tale?”
“Huh?”
Eun-chae, who had been walking toward him, looked back and forth between the books and Dokyun, then tilted her head and asked a question.
“You’ll read to me?”
“Yep, I’ll read it to you.”
Dokyun said with a soft chuckle. He figured that for an emotional connection, it would be better to read to her himself rather than just having her read alone.
Eun-chae stood there blankly, staring at the book covers, before giving a small nod of assent.
His expression brightening, Dokyun sat on the sofa and showed her the covers one by one.
“Which one should I read?”
“Umm…”
Eun-chae’s gaze swept over the book covers. It seemed she was trying to judge them by their pictures. Smiling faintly at the sight, Dokyun nodded when she finally pointed at a book.
“The Green Frog?”
“Yes.”
The story of the Green Frog. It was a familiar one to Dokyun. It was a book he had read several times as a child for book report homework during vacation.
I think I milked this one story for two years straight.
Lost in old memories for a moment, he soon picked up the book. He patted his lap, and as Eun-chae climbed onto it, he opened the book for her and cleared his throat.
For some reason, it reminded him of when he first came here and had to read The Girl Who Catches Bugs aloud.
Shaking off the slightly different feeling that the thought brought, Dokyun began to read.
“Once upon a time…”
It wasn’t a bad time for Dokyun, either.
He already knew the story, but different publishers usually had different illustrations, didn’t they? The fairy tales in the study had rather detailed illustrations, so there was also the fun of looking at them as he read.
In his own terms, it was a book carried by its art.
As he read, Dokyun occasionally glanced at Eun-chae’s expression. It was an action born from the worry that she might not like it, but thankfully, Eun-chae seemed very interested in the fairy tale.
Her mouth was agape in concentration, just like when she watched the aquarium or the carp. She would nod along from time to time, and when the scene changed, her face would go blank again.
Dokyun found himself focusing more on Eun-chae’s reactions than the book itself. He chuckled softly as he turned the pages, and before he knew it, he realized he had read the last page and closed the book.
“Ah.”
As the book ended, Eun-chae, coming to her senses a moment too late, let out a short sigh.
Dokyun chuckled as he looked up at Eun-chae, who was now looking at him.
“Was it fun?”
Eun-chae, who had been staring blankly, nodded.
“Yes.”
She said, her lips parting and closing for a moment. She glanced once at the closed book, then back at Dokyun, and continued.
“Honeybee-nim.”
“Hm?”
“So… does the story end with the green frog just being sad forever?”
The question made Dokyun’s words catch in his throat.
“Uh…?”
“The frog is just sad all the time. That must hurt so much.”
In other words, Eun-chae was asking for an interpretation of the ending.
Dokyun felt a wave of panic wash over him.
He realized it too late.
If you set aside the moral of ‘You must listen to your elders’ or ‘You must behave well,’ this fairy tale was an incredibly bleak bad ending.
What should he say? As he mulled it over, letting out a small groan, Dokyun finally managed to answer the question.
“Um, well, he probably doesn’t cry all the time.”
“Huh?”
“He only cries on rainy days, right? So on days when it doesn’t rain, he can be happy.”
Seeing Eun-chae tilt her head at his words, Dokyun felt a sense of trouble rising and quickly added an explanation.
“Um, if you think about it differently, maybe it’s not such a bad ending for the son frog, or for the mother frog, right?”
“Why?”
“Because the son frog will always be able to remember his mother.”
Dokyun, who had been spouting whatever came to mind, had a ‘This is it!’ moment and quickly continued.
“Whenever it rains, the son frog gets to reminisce about his mother. So…”
“Like a photograph?”
“Yes, exactly like a photograph. For the son frog, the rain is like a photograph.”
Dokyun’s face brightened as Eun-chae caught on.
“Of course, he’ll feel sad because of his mistake, but while he’s crying, he’ll also be able to remember all the good times he had with his mother. So it’s not an entirely sad story.”
After finishing his explanation, Dokyun watched Eun-chae’s reaction. He watched her, praying she would be convinced, praying that no more difficult questions would come. A moment later, seeing Eun-chae nod her head slightly in understanding, Dokyun breathed an inward sigh of relief.
Thank god…
Of all the books, I had to pick this one.
Dokyun bitterly regretted his past choice and looked over the remaining books.
Are there any other bad endings…?
There weren’t.
Letting out a small breath, Dokyun put on a bright expression and spoke to Eun-chae.
“Should I read another one?”
“Yes.”
Eun-chae nodded. She looked over the books again, studying each cover, before pointing her index finger at the one in the middle.
Dokyun looked at the book her finger was pointing to and felt a wave of relief wash over him.
“The Ugly Duckling?”
“Yes.”
Thankfully, the one Eun-chae pointed to was the fairy tale with the happiest ending of them all.