章 14: A Mother's Worries
In the broadcasting club, silence fell over the room after Choi Wonseok voiced his opinion. All eyes were now fixed on Ryu Jiho, who seemed completely unaffected by the attention.
"What are you all looking at? Just eat," Jiho said, a hint of irritation in his voice, though he kept his tone from sounding too harsh.
"It feels like the Jiho we know isn't the Jiho we see now," one of them remarked, their voice laced with wonder.
"That's exactly what I mean! He took on that mad dog without a second thought," another chimed in, excitement sparking in their eyes.
"Has he been possessed or something? My great-aunt is a famous shaman. Want me to take him to see her?" Lee Cheolwoong joked, his offer quickly met with nods of agreement from Kim Seokmin and Park Sang-eun, who seemed to find the idea increasingly amusing.
"Yeah, yeah, maybe I was a little crazy back then. Happy now?" Jiho shot back quickly, eager to put an end to a conversation that was making him uncomfortable.
❉ ❉ ❉
"I'm home," Ryu Jiho called out as he stepped inside. His voice sounded casual, doing its best to mask any unease that might tip off his parents.
He headed straight to the kitchen, opened his bag, and pulled out his now-empty lunchbox, placing it in the sink. As he turned around, his mother, Shim Yeongsuk, appeared from the doorway of her bedroom, her eyes filled with concern.
"You're home late. Are you tired?" she asked gently, her tone soft yet betraying the worry she couldn't quite hide.
"You're still up?" Jiho asked, trying to steer the conversation away from topics he wasn't ready to discuss.
"How could a mother sleep when her child isn't home yet? Go take a shower and rest," Shim Yeongsuk replied with a small, loving smile.
"Goodnight," Jiho said as he slowly made his way to his room. But his steps halted when his mother's voice floated over from the kitchen.
"Did the seniors in the broadcasting club beat you up again?"
Ryu Jiho froze. Despite his efforts to appear normal, his mother could still read the signs he tried so hard to hide.
"This isn't the military; it's just high school. Why does there have to be this kind of violent tradition…" Shim Yeongsuk muttered, her voice tinged with deep disappointment as she washed the dishes a little more vigorously than usual.
"Why can't they just reprimand with words? Does it always have to be violence?" she continued, anger and sadness mingling in her tone, like a storm refusing to calm.
Jiho felt his heart tremble at his mother's concern. However, he knew all too well that reporting this would only make things worse.
"Mom, I'm fine. Don't worry," he said softly, hoping his words could offer some comfort, though he knew that her worries wouldn't fade so easily.
"Of course, I'm fine. Don't worry," said Ji-ho Ryu, his voice calm but firm, as if he were trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to reassure Young-sook Shim.
This wasn't the first time Ji-ho had come back in such a state, and Young-sook had seen it too many times to be surprised anymore. Without uttering a word, she simply nodded slowly before retreating into her own thoughts. Ji-ho stepped into his room, changed his clothes, and then headed out to the courtyard. Near the bath, which shimmered under the moonlight, he bent over slightly, leaning back a little, and washed his sweat-drenched face.
"Why did I have to join that club? Just asking for trouble…" he muttered to himself, his tone laced with a quiet frustration.
From behind a foggy window, Young-sook watched, her eyes following Ji-ho's every movement with a worried gaze that was hard to conceal. She shook her head, her breath heavy with unspoken concern, and then made her way toward the cabinet in the living room. Meanwhile, Ji-ho returned to his room, spread out a thin mattress on the floor, and lay down. He rolled from side to side—first on his stomach, then on his side—but no position could ease the pain gnawing at his body.
"Ugh, I'd rather be dead…" he whispered to himself, his voice low, almost like a sigh.
Moments later, the door to his room slowly creaked open. Young-sook entered with quiet, deliberate steps, carrying something in her hand. "Let me put some ointment on you," she said softly, her voice filled with concern.
In her hand was a jar of Tiger Balm, a familiar remedy in their household, always kept in the corner of the medicine cabinet, ready for any situation. Alongside antiphlogistine, this balm was a staple in their first-aid routine, and tonight was no exception.
"Turn over," she instructed, her tone firm but loving.
Ji-ho obeyed, even though he knew what was coming. Gently, Young-sook lifted the blanket that covered her son, then patted Ji-ho's behind lightly.
"Ouch!" Ji-ho exclaimed with a slightly exaggerated tone, even though he knew his mother would never intentionally hurt him. He quickly lay on his stomach, pressing his belly against the cold floor. As his pants were pulled down, a large bruise, blue and black, was revealed on his buttock, prompting Young-sook to sigh deeply.
"Tch," Young-sook clicked her tongue with a hint of irritation, but there was a tenderness in the way she handled the injury. She calmly unscrewed the lid of the ointment, and the familiar scent of Tiger Balm soon filled the room, wrapping it in a comforting warmth. Carefully, she applied the balm to Ji-ho's skin, rubbing it in with gentle, circular motions before pulling his pants back up.
"Goodnight, then," Young-sook said softly, leaving the room with the same quiet, loving presence.
"Goodnight, Mom. I hope I don't have nightmares again tonight," Ji-ho replied, his voice drowsy but filled with hope.
Young-sook left the room, leaving Ji-ho lying on his stomach on his mattress, trying to fall asleep. But even though his eyes felt heavy, his mind continued to spin, refusing to rest.
"Have I always been this rebellious? Once you've been bitten by a mad dog, there really is no cure," he thought silently to himself before finally slipping into a restless sleep.
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