Who Is the Yellow Hat Kid?

"Why are you being such a little pipsqueak?! Can you even call yourself a man after that?"

"How ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠does someone who's supposed to be a teacher say something so sexist?! And a pipsqueak? Are you done talking?"

Juwon's face made his disbelief abundantly clear as he raised his voice at his younger sister. Properly stung by the word pipsqueak, Juwon ultimately kicked the front door open and stormed out. His throat, flushed crimson with rage, filled the close-up.

"Oh my, oh my! Hey, did you see that?"

"Ugh, gross."

The woman sprawled across the sofa jabbed her little brother's shoulder hurriedly with her foot. He scrunched his face up as far as it would go and shoved her foot away with force.

"Wow... how can a guy be that handsome even when he's losing his mind with anger?"

"Is there a single person on this earth your eyes *don't* find attractive?"

"Excuse me? Are you even human?"

Whether her brother cursed her out or not, the woman was glued to episode one of Tail: Tracing the Traces. She'd turned it on without much thought, since it was Lee Jeonghyeon's drama comeback, but true to his track record, it delivered staggering immersion. Barely ten minutes had passed, and in that time Juwon's parents had died and a whirlwind montage of him doing backbreaking labor for his little sister had flown by.

K-dramas, truly... they cannot stand to let anything drag, can they...

On screen, Juwon walked into the park with a gait that laid his conflicted heart completely bare. When he sat down on a bench and let out a long, long sigh, she felt her chest go tender with the thought, so this is what the loneliness of a handsome man looks like...

"Mister! Is that ball yours?"

"Whoa."

"Wow."

The moment the child in the yellow hat appeared on screen, exclamations spilled out of the squabbling siblings on pure reflex. Watching the kid grin sweetly, his cheeks flushed faintly pink by ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the cold wind, the woman's heart melted into a puddle.

"What kind of child looks like a baby deer like that...?"

"There she goes again. You've got it bad. To you, handsome is handsome whether it's a kid or a grown man, isn't it?"

"Shut up a second, I can't hear."

Her brother barely ducked the foot sailing at him again and grumbled under his breath. Baby deer, my foot. Anyone with eyes could see that was a human child. Sure, those glittering black eyes, shining bright and round, were cute, but honestly, it wasn't to that extent. His sister was out of her mind — ready ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to sell her soul for a handsome man, no hesitation. And if he said so, she'd come right back with, "They should actually sell souls, then I could buy one and finally see him in person."

Last time she'd staggered in blind drunk, clutched the television, and bawled her eyes out. Weeping, begging him to come out of the TV because she'd treat him so well — asking why he insisted on living only inside it. It was genuinely humiliating to share blood with that person.

"Then can't I borrow it just for a little while? I'll give it right back!"

...He is kind of cute, though.

The child smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling ever so slightly. His eyelashes trembled, fine and delicate, like an artwork a master craftsman had poured his soul into. It was a beauty that outclassed the picture quality of a TV bought secondhand two years ago and now starting to look downright grubby.

"Don't you ever lend your game console to your little sister, mister?"

"What?"

"My older brother's the same. He's always telling me I'm a pain and to go bother someone else."

The kid in the yellow hat volunteered words nobody had asked for, then squeezed in beside him and clambered up onto the bench. The contrast between Juwon's dumbfounded expression and the child's relentless chatter lent the crime drama an unexpectedly light, easy air.

"You should lend her the game console before it's too late, mister. Once you start regretting it, it's already too late."

The child delivered the line in a crisp, decisive voice, eyes fixed straight ahead. The bright, sunny tone seemed mismatched with that slightly protruding pout, and yet it felt exactly like what a child should sound like. And then Juwon's strange, layered expression planted a creeping unease in the hearts of everyone watching.

After that came the scenes where his sister realized something was deeply wrong with the school's operating budget — scholarships included — and uncovered the backroom dealings between the chairwoman and a National Assembly member. The sister's lonely struggle to bring the truth to light flickered past, and the ominous soundtrack swelled louder and louder.

Sure enough, when Juwon dragged his weary feet back to the house and found his sister gone cold, the woman clapped a hand over her mouth. At the funeral hall, Juwon stared blankly at the memorial portrait without shedding a single tear. In place of a Juwon who had entirely lost his mind, his friends received the mourners.

And then, after Juwon had sat frozen like that for a long, long while, a familiar face came into view. It was that kid — the strange child he'd crossed paths with in the park.

"That kid..."

"Huh? Oh, they say he's a student in Jihye's class. His parents told him not to come, but he came anyway, apparently."

Juwon stared vacantly at the child as his friend spoke. Unlike his chattering self from days past, the boy stood quietly, holding the hand of the teacher who had accompanied him. When he gazed at the sister's portrait for a long, unblinking moment, the sight stole the breath right out of her throat.

Juwon staggered to his feet, made his way outside, and slumped down behind the building. A wavering shadow fell across his vision as he stared blankly at the ground. He looked up, and the child was standing there.

"Your sister was our teacher, mister?"

The child looked remarkably composed. At the remark, dropped so abruptly and without so much as a greeting, Juwon found himself unable to say a word — he only nodded.

The child studied him for a moment, then plopped down beside the slumped Juwon, exactly the way he'd settled onto the bench beside him that day.

"Did you lend her the game console?"

At the child's matter-of-fact words, Juwon gulped down the emotion surging up inside him.

"...No."

But even swallowed, it wouldn't stay swallowed. Only then did the tears begin to spill, one after another. His sister was dead. The sister who, after he'd lost his parents so senselessly, had been his one and only purpose in life. Why?

What did I do wrong?

His sister's angry voice, begging him for help, rang in Juwon's ears. The sighs that had multiplied so much lately, even the faint sound of crying that had seeped out from her room past midnight — all of it tore at his ears, without granting him so much as a moment to respond.

Before he knew it, Juwon was sobbing aloud, loudly enough to bury those sounds beneath. Juwon, who for an entire episode had shown nothing but a rough, hard-bitten exterior, weeping like a child — the rawness of it shook the viewer's heart to its core.

While the woman, sunk completely into the drama, fought back tears that threatened to spill at any second, the camera panned slowly sideways. The child keeping silent vigil at Juwon's side came into sharp, vivid focus.

"See... that's why I said once you regret it, it's too late."

The child's voice was as clear and bright as it had been at his first appearance, and his expression was still that of a small boy. Only the eyes had changed. A desperate anguish, like something crawling along the floor — and a detached calm, as though watching that anguish from somewhere far away. Hollow-seeming eyes swept across the screen. Eyes that sent a chill down the spine of everyone watching.

The woman staked her twenty-eight years of otaku life on it: that kid was going to turn out to be the hidden mastermind. And several hours later, she learned the child was merely a cameo who appeared only in episode one, and despaired.

"No, none of this is what I want to know, I swear..."

The woman furrowed her brow as far as it would go and yanked the mouse wheel downward in a rage. No matter what combination of words she punched into the search bar, nothing about the yellow hat child actor surfaced. To think so few people on Earth knew anything about the baby deer who had dealt her a critical wound and fled the scene. Her beloved had departed, leaving a hole in her chest — and who, pray tell, was going to answer for that? This country took crime far too lightly.

Forget having the answer spoon-fed to her — she'd resolved to hunt down the culprit herself, and all that caught her eye were useless clickbait articles. "An IT powerhouse, my foot..."

After clicking on one last article titled A Child Actor Who Outshines Lee Jeonghyeon's Looks? Five Decisive Moments from Tail Episode 1 — which, naturally, contained nothing but a worthless drama synopsis — she closed the browser for good.

She shoved herself up out of her chair and strode into the living room, locking eyes with her brother, who was just emerging from the bathroom.

"Hey, you jerk. You used my computer again, didn't you?"

"Yep. So what?"

"I said don't go into my room without asking. Seriously!"

Ignoring her brother's irritated grumbling at her back, the woman retreated into her room. Her approach had been wrong from the very start. Booting up the computer to search like a serious adult had done nothing but burn time.

When in doubt, there's always Bluebird.

The woman sought out her second homeland — the place where otakus lived and breathed. Calm descended the instant blue filled her phone screen. And sure enough, the moment she opened the app, yellow hat, Lee Jeonghyeon is insane, and Tail were lined up in the real-time trending searches.

"A cameo?!"

With the expression of a woman whose nation had fallen, the woman let out a cry — and still clicked the URL faster than anyone alive.

"Tail is Kim Johan's passion project, one he conceived of back when— don't care. Not interested. Skip. Skip it, skip it, skip it... Child actor. Found you."

The interview went on to recount how she and the main writer had visited the child actor in person to ask whether he'd be willing to shoot additional scenes, and how Lee Jeonghyeon had adored the boy so much that he'd carried him around in his arms for the entire shoot.

"No, but — what is his NAME?!"

From the woman's room, where an interview had somehow managed to omit the single most important piece of information, a scream laced with agony slipped out into the night.

And at that very moment, that kid — Lee Yeonjae — knew nothing at all, sound asleep in his bed.