A Memory That Should Never Have Stayed
A month had passed. Yongha had come to visit his daughter in the hospital room. “Heejin-ah…” When he opened the door and stepped inside, Heejin greeted him with a smile, as if the events of the past had been nothing more than a bad dream. With each passing day, she grew brighter and brighter. Watching her like that always brought Yongha a wave of relief. He had been afraid, too. Even if she was fine now, might she turn grotesque again? Might some spirit possess her and mock him? He could not even begin to imagine how terrified he had been. Yet a month later, his daughter still maintained that radiant expression. Her complexion had grown even brighter, and flesh had returned to her once-shriveled body. How grateful he was, how endlessly grateful… He had spent every night unable to sleep, worrying, but now perhaps he could worry a little less. Most of all, the belly that had swollen so grotesquely had vanished without a trace. It was as if a miracle had arrived. Yongha set down the items he had brought onto the small side table beside the hospital bed. “The books you asked for because you were bored in the hospital room,” he said. “Don’t overdo it,” he added worriedly. Heejin laughed and nodded. That smile of hers was truly charming. He could not believe he was allowed to see it again. “Thank you, Dad… Oh, by the way, want some fruit?” “Huh? No, I’m fine. What about you? Want me to peel an apple for you?” “You will?” “Of course! I can’t even peel an apple?” Yongha laughed playfully and opened the hospital refrigerator, taking out an apple. He raised the knife and began slowly peeling it. Though his movements were a little clumsy, Heejin’s eyes widened in surprise at how deftly he handled the fruit. “Mom? What’s gotten into you? You even peeled the whole apple? You’ve never eaten fruit unless Mom peeled it for you. You always insisted that only Mom could peel it for you to eat.” “Haha… Did I really say that?” “Exactly! You were such a brat.” “Sorry… I won’t do it anymore.” Yongha smiled awkwardly. Soon he had cut the apple into perfect slices and speared one with a fork, offering it to his daughter. “Thank you! This has real… substance, doesn’t it? Seeing Dad like this.” Yongha shuddered at Heejin’s words as she took the apple. “Ugh, don’t say that… You have no idea how worried I was.” “Hahaha! Sorry!” Heejin laughed brightly again and took a big bite of the apple. The crisp sound, the taste… Heejin’s face filled with a satisfied smile. Yongha could finally smile again, watching his daughter. How lucky he was. They had been talking and eating apples for quite some time when Heejin suddenly asked, “By the way, Dad… you still don’t remember anything?” “Huh? What?” “You know… that day… the day my illness just disappeared. The house was in a total mess, right? I have no idea what happened. There was… something there… but I can’t remember anything at all. So I’m a little frustrated.” “Ah… I don’t know… Me neither…” Heejin also could not recall that day. It was as if the memory of that single day had been completely wiped away. Her mother Sunja was the same. Only Yongha remembered. Yet Yongha wished he could forget it too. He never wanted to remember again. But… he knew he would never be able to forget it. Yes. Never. “I don’t remember much… But I do remember the storm was pretty fierce…” “Ugh! How strong must it have been for all the hospital windows to break? You must have had a hard time too, cleaning up and everything.” “Hey… it’s fine. It’s nothing compared to what I went through. It’s actually a blessing that our daughter got better.” “Hehe! Really?” “Yes! Here, you don’t need to force yourself to remember those useless things. Eat the rest of the apple.” Yongha offered the remaining slices with an awkward smile. Heejin shrugged and speared another piece with her fork, biting into it with a crisp snap. The sweet juice of the apple made her eyes light up. That smile of hers was so charming. “Oh, wait! I do have one strange memory, though. I don’t know if it’s a dream… or real. It’s so weird.” “Wh-what kind of memory?” Yongha asked, his face slightly tense. Heejin thought for a moment, then spoke in a tone of uncertainty. “It’s… I was crawling on the floor, I guess?” Yongha’s hand trembled. Even his forehead broke out in cold sweat. He forced a laugh. “Haha… It was probably just a weird dream?” “Maybe? Haha! There really are strange dreams. Anyway, I definitely remember seeing someone in that dream.” “A strange person?” “Yeah… like a pastor? No… a priest, maybe? Well, there was someone.” Heejin shrugged again out of habit. Yongha remembered the young priest too. Who on earth was he? Was he really a priest? Unfortunately, even a month later, they still had not found him. Come to think of it, he didn’t even know the man’s name. How was he supposed to thank him? If he had known the name, he might have searched for him… but the priest had simply vanished into thin air… Yongha forced another smile and told himself it was probably just a dream. He hoped his daughter would never remember that day. He hoped it would remain a memory that would never be left in her life—or in their lives. Just then, the door to the hospital room opened. Sunja stood there, carrying armfuls of side dishes as always, even though the doctors said she should be resting. Heejin and Yongha laughed and greeted her. The three of them could finally be together again. /////// “In the end… I got nothing again…” The woman’s seductive voice wrapped around him like silk, yet Han’s expression did not change. Perhaps the disappointment had become so familiar that it no longer registered. He simply let out a heavy sigh. He was not wearing any clothes, yet not a single scar remained on his chiseled, muscular torso. He had healed perfectly. As if wounds had never even existed. Just then Miho stepped up behind him and naturally wrapped her arms around his back. Thanks to her sheer clothing, her soft skin and warmth traveled down his spine. Especially her full breasts pressed firmly against his back. Her hands brushed across his chest. Soon a sultry breath brushed his ear. “Disappointed?” “W-well… I’m not sure.” Han answered, trembling slightly. Miho smiled wickedly and ran her hands over his body again, rubbing her voluptuous breasts against the hard muscles of his back. Han did not resist. Nor did he refuse. The smile on Miho’s lips grew deeper and hungrier. She placed a kiss on his shoulder, then moved to his neck, and finally nibbled his earlobe. Ah… Han’s warm breath escaped in a hot rush. His body trembled once more. “Two years… or rather, even longer… Yet I still haven’t found even the smallest trace. Because those things keep repeating… the disappointment has become routine.” “You’ve gotten used to chasing windmills?” “Maybe.” “Still, this time I learned something. That the being I’m looking for is like a mountain spirit. Well… it’s not confirmed, but… A mountain spirit is nothing special anyway. To the eyes of ignorant humans, ghosts, monsters, yokai, demons—all the same.” She spoke, then bit his earlobe again. Her touch grew more sultry, more sticky. She was starving. A hunger that simple food could never fill. She needed yang energy. It was the driving force that allowed her to live and the source of her power. Miho kissed his shoulder once more, then took a deep breath, savoring his scent. The rich male scent made her body react on its own. A faint trace of blood from the past still lingered, but she paid it no mind. She changed position and sat on the bed, straddling Han’s lap. She stared into his eyes with an intoxicating gaze—greed dripping from every inch of her. She had been so desperate to devour the pitiful boy who had only known disappointment and anger. Two years ago it had been only for sustenance. Now she wanted pleasure too. She expected it. Just like now. The greedy smile on her lips was no longer for hunger. It was for delight. Hoo hoo… She offered a deeply seductive smile.