The Last Wish
"If it hurts even a little, tell me."
"Ugh! That again? It doesn't hurt! Not even a bit, so stop worrying. Actually, my body feels lighter than usual today. Maybe... maybe I'm completely cured!"
Perhaps she was tired of his constant concern. Suji spread her tiny hands wide as if to prove she was truly fine, then flashed him a bright smile. In response, the shadow wore a strange expression for a moment before simply shrugging. He poked at the fire once more.
"By the way, what do you want for lunch?" the shadow asked.
Suji's face lit up with mischief again. "I want samgyeopsal!"
It might have been because of a distant memory—eating it with her family at a campsite long ago.
"Just that? If you want, I can bring beef. Or actually, I could bring every delicacy under the sun."
"No way! I don't want that. Samgyeopsal is perfect for camping!"
At such a modest wish, the shadow clicked his tongue. Still, he agreed without complaint to prepare it. Suji thanked him again.
Lunchtime arrived. Once more, the shadow produced a grill from somewhere. Following Suji's instructions, he stacked stones over the campfire he'd built and placed the grill on top. Then he began cooking the samgyeopsal he'd somehow obtained.
Suji's small nose twitched at the savory aroma, and a smile bloomed on her face as if she couldn't help it.
"Ah... I've wanted this so badly! But at the hospital they said I could never eat anything greasy, so I never got to have it."
"Hmm... hospital food did look pretty terrible."
"It was! So bland... and the meat was always tough... Mmm, but this smells amazing right from the start."
Suji spoke in a voice brimming with excitement. It was the first time the shadow had seen her this animated. Perhaps this was her true personality. She was practically trembling with delight.
Finally, the meat was done. The shadow cut a small piece for Suji, blew on it gently to cool it, and carefully fed it to her. He watched her reaction with nervous eyes.
"How is it? Is it okay?"
"Mmm... It's perfect! So delicious!"
Thankfully, Suji loved it. For some reason, a wave of relief washed over the shadow. Watching a child find such joy in something so small... why did it affect him like this? Once again, he felt a strange emotion rising from deep within. It was impossible to describe. Before he knew it, a small chuckle escaped him. It had been a very long time since he'd smiled like that.
He fed her several more pieces, and Suji ate to her heart's content, feeling full for the first time in ages.
At the same moment, Heein wore an expression of utter despair. Something truly unbelievable had happened.
Learning that Janghee had died in a motorcycle accident was shocking enough. But this was even worse. It made no sense at all.
"The child disappeared? How is that possible! Where on earth could she have gone?! And what were you all doing before she vanished?!"
Beside her, Hyuksoo was shouting at the top of his lungs, equally worked up. Watching him, Heein let out a bitter laugh without meaning to.
The man who had found Suji so annoying, who had ignored her at every turn, was now furious that she was gone. Shouldn't he be happy? With the child out of the picture, he could finally proceed with the divorce.
It was truly contradictory. Was he suddenly trying to play the part of a caring father? Now, of all times? Or had he finally realized Suji was his biological daughter?
It was almost laughable. Heein gazed at the bed where her daughter had been sleeping only yesterday. The warmth was slowly fading from it. A quiet sigh escaped her, and then the tears she had been holding back finally burst free.
"Suji..."
Her voice trembled as she softly called her daughter's name. They said they had no idea where the child had gone. She had simply vanished without a trace. Ironically, despite checking every CCTV camera, they still couldn't find any sign of her. The police had arrived after the report and were searching the area, but no news had come in.
It was completely impossible. Suji was a sick child. A child with an incurable disease. A child who could collapse at any moment and never wake up. Where could she possibly have gone?
Faced with this incomprehensible situation, Heein felt overwhelming confusion and a desperate fear that she might lose her daughter like this. And at the same time... did she even have the right to feel this sad? Did she deserve to mourn?
In truth, she wasn't so different from her husband. The same had happened to Heein. At some point, Suji had begun to feel like a burden. Even though she was heartbroken and tormented by her daughter's pain, even though being a mother was so exhausting, she had sometimes resented the child for never once looking properly at her face.
Moreover, the hospital bills drained tens of millions of won every month, wearing her down. No matter how well her work was going and how much she earned, the constant outflow of money was crushing her. Yes, because of that, she had even resented her own daughter. There were times when she had wanted to give up on everything and just end it all. That was how exhausted Heein had become.
She felt she had no right to call herself a mother. No right to grieve now that her daughter was gone. After all, this was exactly what she had wished for.
But now that it had actually happened, she realized a child was still a child. The pain of losing Suji tore at her chest like it was being ripped into a thousand pieces. Only now did Heein understand how precious her daughter had been to her, and that the resentment she had felt toward Suji was never real.
Perhaps Suji had sensed that resentment. Maybe that was why she had ignored her mother, why she had seemed to dislike her. Maybe Suji had known that her own mother resented her and secretly wished for her to die soon. The moment that thought crossed her mind, an overwhelming wave of regret crashed over Heein.
I didn't know... Mom really didn't know...
A lonely child, parents who did nothing but fight every day. It would have been perfectly normal for her to grow sick of it all. Especially since her own mother had resented her, had found her burdensome...
I'm sorry... Mom is so sorry... So please come back... Just give Mom one more chance...
Was it already too late for regret? Her daughter's figure had already vanished without a trace. There was no sign of her anywhere.
Behind her, she could see Hyuksoo still shouting at the top of his lungs. Perhaps her husband felt the same way she did. Yes, maybe he did.
"Haaam..."
Suji, who had been staring at the campfire, began to nod off. The shadow told her it would be better to go into the tent and sleep, but she stubbornly refused.
"Just a little longer..."
Her voice was heavy with drowsiness as she gazed at the fire again. She stretched out her small hands, opening and closing her palms as if trying to grasp the warmth radiating from it. The shadow smiled softly at the sight and added another piece of firewood to the flames.
That was when Suji asked, "By the way, what's your name?"
The sudden question caught the shadow off guard. Suji looked at him with half-closed eyes. After a brief pause, he answered.
"Well... I don't really know."
"Why? How can you not know your own name? Hmm... is that even possible?"
"I don't know it, so I don't know it."
Suji pouted, pushing her lips out. "You just don't want to tell me, do you?"
When she asked in that sulky tone, the shadow looked troubled and shook his head.
"It's not that I don't want to tell you. It's just... I really don't know, so that's what I said."
He could only give the same answer. It was the truth—he genuinely didn't know.
Maybe Suji was upset. She let out a little "Hmph!" and turned her gaze back to the campfire. Soon her head began to droop again. She could no longer fight off the approaching sleep.
"Go to sleep now... There's always tomorrow."
"Ah... but it's a shame..."
Suji expressed her disappointment through a yawn, but in the end she couldn't resist any longer. As he watched the child finally fall asleep, the shadow silently stared at the burning campfire. Once again, he felt that strange emotion. A tickling sensation near his chest. It was difficult to put into words. Why was this happening? Why did this particular child stir such inexplicable feelings in him? He couldn't understand it. It was as if something inside him had broken.
He let out a sigh amid his confusion. That was when it happened.
Suddenly the shadow froze. His gaze snapped to the side. Between the translucent shadows, two eyes narrowed in discomfort. With a sigh, he rose to his feet and gently lifted the sleeping Suji into his arms.
"Mommy..."
Suji murmured in her sleep. At the sleep-talking, he let out a small chuckle and carried her into the tent, helping her lie down comfortably. Inside the tent, a warm electric blanket and a thick sleeping bag had been laid out, so it wasn't cold. Still, the air itself was so chilly that he wasn't sure if Suji could endure it. The shadow was genuinely worried about the child.