dreams spun in berries & fluff
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    Chapter 16

    Wait—what did I just say? These desserts were something I had carefully gathered solely for myself. Not once had I ever considered sharing them with someone else.

    What kind of nonsense was that? But it was too late to take the words back—I’d already given him too much hope. His cheeks were even flushed along with his eyes; he must’ve really wanted some. No matter how much of a bastard I might be, seeing someone look that expectant, there was no way I could now say, ā€œJust kidding.ā€

    My dessert. Letting out a heavy sigh, Jae-i spoke in a subdued voice.

    ā€œEat everything on your plate first. Only then I’ll give you some.ā€

    ā€œ…Okay!ā€

    With a small but determined reply, he immediately grabbed his chopsticks and put meat into his mouth. His lips chewed, his cheeks twitched, and even his legs swung back and forth under the chair. His whole body was expressing his delight, and Jae-i found it absurd.

    He was about to throw out a snide remark like ā€œIs it really that good?ā€ when he caught a glimpse of the inside of the boy’s collar through the loose shirt. The scar was still faintly visible, though it had faded some. It was the kind of mark left by something long and thin with strong elasticity. He didn’t know when he’d been hit, but the fact it hadn’t disappeared suggested it hadn’t been long ago.

    Given that he’d been wearing a strange iron mask in a place like that, he probably hadn’t been treated well. Come to think of it, the kid might’ve been imprisoned there.

    ā€œā€¦ā€¦ā€

    The Association had said he wasn’t an Awakened. But would they really lock up an unawakened person in such a deep, hidden place?

    That’s when something strange caught Jae-i’s eye. He thought he’d seen it wrong—but no. After finishing the meat, the boy began eating the salad, but his jaw moved sluggishly. He was chewing faithfully, exactly ten times, and even closed his eyes when he swallowed.

    Letting out a hollow laugh, Jae-i leaned down, resting one hand on the table.

    ā€œWhat? Do you hate greens?ā€

    ā€œ…N-No. It’s tasty.ā€

    He mumbled, then, as if to prove his point, shoveled a large portion of salad into his mouth. But his jaw moved very slowly.

    ā€œSo you do hate it.ā€

    ā€œā€¦ā€¦ā€

    This time, he didn’t deny it, instead chewing painstakingly—thirteen times—before swallowing.

    Jae-i watched the boy as he kept his head lowered, seemingly uncomfortable with Jae-i’s gaze, and then straightened up. He opened the fridge, scanned inside, and pulled out a slice of cake. A large strawberry on top made it look delicious at a glance.

    He placed the cake onto a small plate and set it in the center of the table. The boy flinched, glancing between the cake and Jae-i, then began piling his spoon with salad. Watching him greedily heap his plate like a cow chewing cud, Jae-i frowned and intervened.

    ā€œEat too fast and you’ll get indigestion. Then you won’t get to eat that.ā€

    ā€œ…Why?ā€

    His eyes trembled with confusion, and Jae-i snorted.

    ā€œBecause I said so.ā€

    ā€œā€¦ā€¦ā€

    That tiny face stiffened in disbelief. Still, with the cake right in front of him, the boy put only a manageable amount of salad into his mouth. Slowly but more steadily than before, he began chewing again. When he finally gathered up the last bits of salad and tilted the dish to finish it all, he chewed while staring at the cake. He clearly wanted it badly, struggling so much that even Jae-i couldn’t bring himself to say anything more.

    Jae-i pushed the empty plate aside and slid the cake plate toward him.

    ā€œEat.ā€

    Suddenly, he felt like he was feeding a beast, but he quickly erased the thought. Instead, he placed a fork beside the cake and pulled out a chair to sit across from him. The cake was soft enough that it wouldn’t get stuck in his throat, but just in case, Jae-i intended to watch until the boy finished eating it.

    But the boy simply stared at the cake. His previously sparkling, eager eyes now looked deeper—difficult to describe—as he looked at the dessert. He extended his hands slowly, carefully placing both palms around the cake as though it were precious. Then he reached for the fork. Scooping a bit of cream from the edge, he extended his tongue and licked it gently before closing his mouth.

    ā€œā€¦ā€¦ā€

    Was it not to his taste? That couldn’t be. Jae-i had handpicked every one of those desserts; he could vouch for their quality. So what was with that reaction? Next, the boy picked up the large strawberry on top and placed it in his mouth. It was so big one of his cheeks puffed out, and he chewed very slowly—at least twenty times.

    He’d devoured meat in under ten chews, and yet this soft, chewless strawberry took him forever to eat. After swallowing, he stared blankly for a moment before scooping up a bigger bite of cake and placing it in his mouth.

    It was as if he was trying to remember every flavor—his pace was extremely slow. All the while, the boy’s black eyes were focused entirely on the cake. You might think he just liked it that much. But it felt like something more. Watching became uncomfortable, so Jae-i turned his head away.

    Jae-i swam to the deepest part of the pool. He stayed underwater, combining diving and swimming, for over ten minutes. He felt like he could go longer, but before his throat began to sting, he kicked off the bottom and surfaced. As soon as he broke through the water, he gulped down air and dove back in again.

    Lowering his head, he saw the pool’s bottom—a black dot far below. Most people would find the 50-meter depth frightening, but Jae-i stared at it calmly, waiting for his toes to reach the floor.

    Once his body, controlled to sink slowly, touched the bottom, he tilted his head back and looked up. Far above, beyond the water, faint lights shimmered. He captured them in his gaze and then closed his eyes.

    He couldn’t let himself wake up again with that boy in his arms. That was why he was forcing his body into movement, swimming like this for hours. Maybe, after repeating this submersion long enough, things would get better.

    Jae-i tried to get used to the uncomfortable breathing and the sensation of his throat tightening. He told himself it was a kind of training. Once he got used to it, it would stop bothering him. After a couple of intense hours, he climbed out of the pool, went for a run to sweat it all out, and only returned home at dawn. The dark room was quiet. He hadn’t meant to check, but his eyes naturally drifted to the most secluded storage room.

    He planned to stay up all night. With calming music in the background, he’d work through the documents he’d been putting off. Trying to salvage what was left of his accidentally shortened vacation, he headed to his room. And when he came to, he was in a small room.

    ā€˜ā€¦ā€¦ā€™

    He was sitting quietly on the floor, head lowered.

    His legs were folded neatly beneath him, small like the rest of his body. His hands were tiny too. The long sleeves had been rolled several times but still covered half his hands. He clenched and opened one of them—it was still small. Like a maple leaf. He repeated the motion a few times, trying to figure out where he was.

    He didn’t need to think long. This was home. The place where he was born and raised. And he wasn’t alone here. Mom. The thought of her shot through him, and he leapt up, turning around. Barefoot, he walked across the cold floor toward a bed about as tall as himself. Placing both hands on the mattress and standing on tiptoe, he saw a figure lying on her side.

    The delicate back looked exhausted. His heart dropped seeing how much thinner she’d gotten by the day. Mom. Maybe his voice was too soft, because there was no response. Still, he didn’t give up. He called her again—Mom—and her slumped shoulders finally twitched. She turned toward him, and he gave a bright smile. At that, the previously blank face sat up.

    His mom was frail and very sick. She probably shouldn’t be getting up like this. Concerned, he blinked uncertainly, and as she slowly sat up, she raised a hand.

    Come here. That beckoning gesture made his heart leap.

    It seemed like she was in a good mood today. That must’ve been why she acknowledged him. Overjoyed, he clambered onto the bed. With short legs kicking, he made it up and sat in front of her. Sitting quietly, he looked at her with shining eyes.

    Though her face was gaunt, it was still beautiful. As she gazed down at him with half-lidded eyes, she raised her hand. Her touch on his head was soft and gentle, and he closed his eyes, delighted.

    Stay still. He had to—so she would keep touching him and calling him pretty.

    The way her hand stroked his head and face was so pleasant that he shifted slightly with joy. Clutching his hands together, he felt her twig-like touch fall away and opened his eyes. Though he felt a pang of disappointment, he forced a bright smile. But her expressionless face twisted in pain.

    Alarmed, he dropped the smile.

    ā€˜Mom—’

    Before he could finish the word, darkness fell. When he came to, he was under a blanket. Lying in bed, he blinked at the pressure weighing down on him from above.

    ā€˜ā€¦ā€¦ā€™

    He wasn’t scared. Just warm. Even as the heavy blanket pressed around him, he felt comfort. Because Mom was hugging him.

    So warm. Lost in thought, the child slowly smiled faintly and gently closed his eyes.

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