66 Choice 6

"What? Oh. Nothing in particular."

"You used some pretty big words."

"Oh no. I just said whatever I could think of. I think I read it once in a book, but I'm not really sure what it all meant."

During first and second grade, Lucid had become quite skilled (though involuntarily) at making teachers avoid him whenever he went into the teachers' office. It was almost like he hypnotized them by using big words. Anyway, those two years of experience had taught him that people could be easily overwhelmed and flustered through actions and words alike, and that was the trick he had used on those journalists earlier.

"Miss, I think we should drop Hyejin off at her house."

"That's true," the teacher said, looking at the girl from the front mirror, "can you tell me where you live?"

The van sped up as it passed through the commotion and cheering of election campaigns in the streets.

****

Hyejin opened the front door and went inside her house. Usually, she would have happily shouted "I'm home!" as she made her way to her parents, but she didn't have the energy to do so today. Frankly, even if the energy had been there, she simply didn't feel cheerful enough for it. Just as she was taking her shoes off, she realized that there was a pair of shoes that wasn't always there. Men's shoes. Hyejin nervously bit her lip.

"Oh, welcome back!" Hyejin's mother smiled as she came out of the bedroom. She stared at Hyejin, who was still standing at the entrance, stiff as a statue, and motioned for her to come closer. "What are you waiting for? Come on in. Your father's here, you should go say hi."

"..."

Hyejin gripped her black velvet sweatpants and refused to move.

"Hyejin. Welcome home." A deep voice came from the bedroom. Yes, her father's voice suited him perfectly, since both reminded Hyejin of a hippo, lurking underwater as it peers at its surroundings.

Hyejin moved ever so slowly into the house, just as her father came out of the bedroom. They didn't meet often, maybe once a month, or even less. Perhaps it was closer to around ten times a year. She remembered him visiting quite often up to two years ago, but lately it was as if he was just a stranger to her. She saw him through posters more than in person. This was why she wanted to get to her room as quickly as possible, pretending to not have seen or heard him and hoping that through some miracle or other, he would fall for it.

"Hyejin. Come here."

"Sit down," her father instructed, pointing to the one-person sofa across the room.

There was nothing Hyejing wanted to do less, but she still sat on the sofa. The leather creaked under her weight.

"Did the journalists go to your school?"

It wasn't a difficult conclusion to come to, given how gloomy his daughter looked as soon as she came back from school. He was Haejun Kang, after all, and he could read her silence like an open book.

"Yes, I wanted to talk to you about that. First of all, I'd like to apologize to you. You shouldn't have had to go through that. You must have been very scared."

"..."

Haejun scratched his chin, thinking about the best way to explain the situation. Secrets had been spilled, and the reporters had managed to find his daughter faster than he had anticipated. The upcoming elections were also an issue, and he had to find the idiot in his team who had let this information slip, and he had to get back at that slithering little Jeongho Ju. There was much to do, and so little time.

"I've spoken with your mother, and we think it best that the two of you go to the States. Quite soon, I'm afraid. But studying abroad will be good for you, I'm sure."

It was an overused solution, but that only served to prove its own efficacy. Countless people, from celebrities to politicians, resorted to sending their secrets abroad, away from national media, and it worked every time. That's why Haejun had chosen to go with it.

"If you stay here, people will talk eventually, and you'll have a hard time at school. But if you go to the States, you can make new friends, and it'll help you choose a career path later on. I know it's not ideal for you to leave like this, but we've been thinking of sending you abroad even before this all happened. Studying abroad is going to broaden your horizons. Trust us. So you don't have to go to school starting from tomorrow. You'll be on a plane to America with your mother the day after tomorrow."

"I... I've been coerced," Hyejin said, hesitantly. She had listened to her father's words, and all she could understand was that she would be very lonely.

"What?" Her father asked. It was too sudden, and too big of a word for his daughter to be using so casually. Coerced? To do what? A million thoughts went through his head, each worse than the last. "What do you mean?"

"... Intimidated... I've been intentionally coerced. That's what he said."

"Do you know what that word means?"

"No," Hyejin answered, shaking her head, "but my friend told me that's what they were doing. Coercing me."

"Those bastards..."

He had assumed that the journalists had just burst through the school and scared her a little. But more importantly, her friend had said that? Did elementary schoolers learn words like "coercion" nowadays? Did they even know the definition of the word?

"That's what... That's what he said... He was standing there in front of me like that... But you... Dad, aren't you worried about me?"

Hyejin could no longer hold back her tears. No matter how hard she closed her eyes, her tears seeped through her lids and trickled down her cheeks. That boy, that little boy had stood up for her in front of all those scary grownups, but her own father was just thinking of sending her away.

"Of course I do," Haejun said after a moment, "I do worry about you. That's why I'm sending you to the States. It's a decision your mother and I made for your sake."

"I don't want to leave my friends. I want to keep going to school with them."

"You can't." They had already bought a house in the States, and the plane tickets had been booked earlier today.

"Why?" Hyejin asked, her voice full of tears.

But no matter how many tears she shed, they weren't enough to sway her father's decision.

"It'll be too hard for you to stay here. Trust us. This is for your sake. You're a smart girl, aren't you? I'm sure you understand."

Had things been any better, Haejun would have played the role of the perfect father without a hitch. But given the horrible mess he was currently facing, he simply didn't have the time or mental stability to speak gently to his daughter. It can't be helped, he told himself over and over again.

Regardless of what could and couldn't be helped, Hyejin felt abandoned and devastated. There was nothing she could do but follow what her parents had chosen for her. She couldn't even speak her mind about what she truly wanted. This was unfair, and she wouldn't have it.

"I don't want to go. I'll kill myself if you make me." She declared, glaring daggers at her father.

"Hyejin!" Her mother gasped. "Where did you learn to say such things?!"

But it was too late. Haejun's face had turned crimson, and his hand swung through the air before he even realized. There were too many emotions bubbling inside, too many to suppress. He had too much to think about already. He was already weary from all this. He had already spent so much unnecessary money on this daughter of his. And now that same daughter of his was threatening to kill herself? How dare she? How? Just how?

Hyejin flinched and closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable strike of her father's palm against her face. But no matter how much she waited, nothing happened. Instead of a slap, there came a low, deep voice, choked out through who knows how many emotions.

"You may resent me now, but you will understand in a few years. And you will thank me then. So for now, just do as I say."

The sound of leather creaking filled the living room. It creaked and creaked as it found its original shape back, freed from the weight crushing it down.

"Honey..."

"I'll call you tomorrow."

Then, the sound of the door opening, then closing. That last sound caused Hyejin to finally break down, crying loudly and letting all her feelings out.

****

The first thing Lucid did after getting back to the institute was to go to the washroom to get cleaned up. The first few splashes of cold water quickly turned warm, but Lucid turned the handle until only cold water came out. He gathered some in his hands and splashed it on his face. The cold water felt good on the skin, and it helped to ground him and get him back to his senses. Indeed, he had been in a sort of daze the whole ride back to the institute, and now that his brain was working again, he had no idea what had compelled him to stand up to all those people like he had.

Just as he had told Cheol-yong, he hadn't really had any clear idea what he was saying. He had, truthfully, regurgitated a lot of what he had previously read without the luxury of thinking the information over. He hadn't wanted to show off his knowledge, but then again, neither had his words been a result of clear logical thinking. Reasonably speaking, it had all been rushed and logically flawed, full of holes and mistakes. They had somehow, thankfully and miraculously, been able to escape from the situation unscathed, but he now realized that he could have gotten himself and Hyejin into much bigger trouble had things gone even slightly wrong.

Why had he done it? Even when Yurim and Hyejin were about to fight, he had stepped in without much of a thought. Today, he had done it again with the journalists. Thinking of it, he had acted too recklessly for it to have been a result of clear reason. This meant that he had acted on pure reckless impulse, but why? To save his friend? That didn't seem right. Lucid didn't really feel like extending his friendship to anyone other than Myeong-su. Because he felt bad? Was he really in a situation where he could sympathize with others? His own situation was a mess.

Out of anger?

It could be. He did remember being angry, in a way. As he looked at Hyejin, sitting there on the ground, clutching herself for some form of self-protected as she was surrounded by all those adults, he was reminded of himself. Psychological violence, was it? That's what Ki-woong had called it. Violence that wasn't physical. Intimidation tactics like shouting and restraining were also considered violence. Hyejin had become a victim of such violence, and he had wanted to help her.

Yes, he had. But why?

Because I'm a victim too, he realized. Indeed, Lucid was also a victim of unexplained violence. No words had been spoken against him, but everything he had gone through had been violent towards him. He had lost his family without knowing why, he had come to a strange place without knowing why, and he had lost everything and everyone precious to him without knowing why. For Lucid, this reality was violence in itself. And he decided to stand up to it. He would fight back, and this determination had been the catalyst for what had happened with Hyejin today.

As he finally put his thoughts in order about his own feelings, he felt as though something heavy grew inside him. A standard of sorts that he would keep for the rest of his life. What was it called? "Resistance" was the closest thing to it, he decided. Yes, that was it.

Lucid looked up at the mirror in front of him and saw his own face, dripping with water. For a moment, strangely enough, his reflection seemed foreign to him, and he realized he had never taken the time to look at himself like this before. He had always just glanced at it as he washed, but he hadn't ever observed his own facial features.

Lucid looked into Lucid's eyes. They were clear and determined, neither black or blue, but not brown either. Just strangely dark.

So this is what I look like, he pondered.

Then a voice came. Was it in his head? Or was it an actual voice? It sounded strange, like a hallucination.

"Who are you?" the voice asked.

Me?

Lucid looked around, trying to find a source for the voice. Who was talking to him? But he didn't see anyone, and the voice came again, neither from below nor from above.

"What's your name?" the voice asked again.

"My name..." Lucid mumbled, looking back at his own reflection.

Who was he? What was his name? Those were simple questions. Of course he knew who he was, what his name was.

"I'm... Lucid. My name is... Lucid."

And with that, Lucid lost consciousness.

****

"Miss! Miss! Not good, not good!!" Myeong-su shouted as he grabbed a teacher from the stairs. He had clutched her clothes so tightly that she wondered whether the fabric would tear, and she promptly took Myeong-su's hands into her own. His face was red and he looked just about ready to cry.

"What is it? What's going on?"

But Myeong-su could hardly answer, huffing and puffing as he was trying to catch his breath. He had been running all over the institute trying to find someone.

"Plaster face... He... He..." Myeong-su managed to spit out.

"Yes?"

"He's collapsed!"

Tears streamed down Myeong-su's face as the words left his mouth, and he once again grabbed the teacher's clothes. This time, she couldn't bring herself to make him let go, no matter how hard he gripped her skirt.

\u003cChoice (6)\u003e End.