Chapter 2
Chapter 2
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Scars of the Fire
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#06
"Hngh...!"
My eyes suddenly flew open, revealing an unfamiliar ceiling.
Before the thought *Where am I?* could even form,
"Seo-ah!!!! Are you awake?"
A voice choked with sobs reached my ears.
I turned my head with effort toward the sound, and there was Mom, tears streaming down her face.
"M-Mom...?"
I tried to say *Mom*, but the words wouldn't come out right.
Was it because it had been so long since I'd opened my mouth, or was there another reason?
The sounds escaping my lips failed to form proper words and just scattered into the air.
*What's going on right now?*
*Ah—*
*I survived that hell.*
"Yes, it's Mom... Mom's here... Hic, it's okay, Seo-ah?"
Even though she'd given birth to me, Mom had always looked so youthful that people mistook us for sisters whenever we went out together.
That incredibly beautiful, eternally young-looking mother of mine
now appeared utterly exhausted and worn, as if all the hardships of her years had crashed down on her at once, making her look every bit her age.
—As if we'd never be mistaken for sisters again.
"Y-Yeah... I think... I'm okay.... What happened...?"
I forced my mouth open again, and this time, though my voice came out hoarse and raspy—not my usual one—the words formed properly.
"Hic, hold on.... Mom will go get the doctor right away."
After Mom left the room for a moment, the doctor soon arrived and explained what had happened.
There had been a massive fire at our house that day. Luckily, the neighbors had reported it quickly, and they'd pulled me out from where I'd collapsed amid the flames.
Up to that point, relief and gratitude washed over me. The voice I'd heard back then really had been Jun-woo's, and he'd saved me after all.
But what came next plunged me into despair.
Though my life wasn't in danger, my body was covered in severe burns. The skin cells were so badly damaged that they couldn't regenerate.
With consistent rehab, I could manage daily life without too much trouble, but the burned skin probably wouldn't heal.
When I flatly asked how bad the burns were, Mom, who'd been listening quietly beside me, burst into tears again, sobbing uncontrollably. The doctor silently handed me a hand mirror.
Even before looking, my arms were trembling violently as I reached out and took it, peering into the reflection.
My former self was gone.
#07
After staring into the mirror, Mom and Dad—who'd arrived late to the room—hugged me tight, endlessly apologizing through their tears.
In their embrace,
I simply couldn't believe this was real.
*Is this a dream?*
*I wish it were a dream.*
*If only this were just a fleeting nightmare.*
Lost in the haze of this unbelievable reality, I sat there blankly in their arms until they said they'd talk with the doctor briefly and left the room.
Alone in the hospital room, I thought.
*I—and maybe my whole family—*
*we can never go back to our old lives.*
*If only I'd died in that fire.*
Just as those dark thoughts spread like the smoke from that day's blaze, clouding my vision and threatening to swallow me whole—
there came a knock at the door. *Knock knock.* It snapped me out of the nightmare.
"...Who is it?"
Fear gripped me instantly.
The thought of showing anyone my hideous state right now.
"It's me, Han Seo-ah. Lee Jun-woo."
He must have rushed over after my parents called to say I'd woken up—his words came out breathless, panting hard.
Jun-woo, the one I'd longed to see and talk to so badly before all this.
I was terrified.
What if he looked at me not with the warm eyes I knew, but something else entirely?
When I didn't tell him to come in,
"...I'm coming in."
he said, sliding the door open.
He must have burst in like this that day too, to save me.
For a split second, I wanted to pull the blanket over my head and hide, but I just stayed still.
I didn't have the strength, and besides, better to rip off the bandage quick.
Gathering what little energy I had left, I smiled at my precious childhood friend—the one I'd missed so much—and greeted him.
"Hey, Jun-woo... Long time no see. Do I look hideous?"
"You...?"
Seeing my changed appearance, his words caught in his throat, trailing off.
Still, I figured Jun-woo would tease me lightly to cheer me up.
That's just who he was.
But I didn't know Jun-woo at all.
"You... okay...? Sniff... okay...?"
Jun-woo wasn't the type to brush it off lightly or joke when I was hurting or in pain.
On the contrary, he always hurt as much as I did and comforted me.
In the 13 years we'd spent together, Jun-woo had hardly ever shown his tears, even during sad or upsetting times.
I'd teased him for being emotionless, a cyborg.
But looking back now, it was because
I was always crying or upset right beside him.
He must have bottled up his own feelings, pushing them aside,
to comfort and protect me.
And the reason I realized this now?
Because that Jun-woo was standing there before me, sobbing like a child—snot and tears flowing freely—because of me.
I thought I knew everything about Jun-woo, but I didn't.
Watching him cry endlessly like a broken doll, asking over and over if I was okay, my own tears started falling before I knew it.
"Jun-woo... It hurts so much... Hic, it hurt so bad and I was so scared... I'm not okay, not okay at all...!"
That day, my childhood friend and I held each other and wept endlessly, endlessly.
#08
After that day, I began rehab treatment at the hospital.
The burns on my right leg would make normal walking difficult for a while, and sure enough, when I tried to stand, the doctor's words rang true—it was hard.
Taking a deep breath to steel myself, I faced my changed self in the room's mirror.
There stood someone who was me, yet a stranger.
From childhood, I'd known I was prettier than the other kids.
Everyone had approached me first, saying how cute I was.
Of course, Jun-woo would cringe and call it princess syndrome if he heard that.
A fond memory bubbled up, making me chuckle to myself.
But now, I realized, no more of that.
I might have become someone who had to approach others first—or who couldn't even do that anymore.
#09
During rehab, friends kept visiting at first.
I was glad to see them despite how tough it was, but gradually, I started avoiding their visits.
Their bright faces upon entering the room would twist into the looks people give a grotesque sight when they saw my burns—and the fact that those friends never came back after that gaze crushed me.
My parents treated me with unwavering warmth, but every time they saw the burns on my face or body, they'd apologize, avert their eyes, blame themselves like sinners, and suffer—and that wore me down too.
In those hellish hospital days that broke me apart, what held me together was Jun-woo.
Jun-woo never pitied me.
Whenever he saw my wounds, he'd look straight at them and ask if anything hurt today, if I was uncomfortable.
His steady gaze, full of worry for me and thoughts of moving forward, soothed me.
Jun-woo never looked at me differently.
One day while wandering the hospital with him during rehab, a little boy we often saw there pointed at me and said,
"Mom, that big sister's face looks like Two-Face!"
His innocent words sliced into my heart like a blade.
Then,
"Hey, kid."
Jun-woo strode toward the boy, and I panicked, reaching out to stop him.
But as if reading my mind, he gently took my hand, reassuring me it was fine, and let go.
"This big sis is super pretty. You might not get it now, but later you'll regret saying that and wish you hadn't—trust me. She's that pretty, so call her 'pretty big sis' and be friends instead."
"Really?"
"Totally! See, even I'm following her around 'cause she's so pretty."
The boy pondered Jun-woo's grinning words for a moment, then toddled over to me,
"Pretty big sis, sorry! I was wrong!"
bowed his head, and toddled back to his mom.
The woman, who seemed to be his mother and had been flustered, bowed apologetically to me too before leaving with the child.
"Kid's too young to have any taste, right?"
Jun-woo, back at my side, said teasingly, and I held back my burning tears as I replied.
"Exactly."
We chuckled together on the way back to my room.
The wounds in my heart felt like they were healing.
I learned later from the nurse.
That day, Jun-woo had been crying on the rooftop.