when the phone rings novel
Once something surpasses its expiration date, it inevitably begins to rot—names are no exception. Living under the name of a dead child, Baek Sa-eon found himself decaying bit by bit every day. Even so, he pushed himself to learn and adapt, doing everything he could to keep Baek Jang-ho from discovering his true self.
In his mind, there were only two paths: sink to the riverbed and die, or struggle on the surface to survive. To avoid drowning, he always stood on his toes, head held high. Thus, he endured the overwhelming flood of daily life, learning how to smile and respond appropriately.
"You'll marry the eldest daughter of that family in the future, so it's best to start pleasing her now."
"Yes."
Though his heart churned with disgust, he was already accustomed to keeping his emotions in check. As if playing the role of a grandson wasn't enough, he now had to prepare for this endless chain of obligations.
Every night, he watched his adoptive parents tear into each other. To him, marriage seemed like nothing more than a storefront display—a business, a transaction, a cage, a contract, a document. It was meaningless, devoid of any genuine emotion.
The world was full of filth and monotony.
Soon, his face began to carry an exhaustion that didn't match his age, like moss growing over time.
One day, he overheard a conversation while Baek Jang-ho was on the phone.
"Close the fishing ground now."
"...!"
He paused mid-step as he descended the stairs.
"There's no more evidence to discard there, and the people living there are gone. Reclaim it as private property. By the way, has Sang-hoon been found yet?"
Sang-hoon—he was the cold, indifferent caretaker of the fishing ground.
"Sigh... Forget it. He probably lost his fingers chasing after some woman he loved. No need to track him down anymore."
A flicker of unease appeared in the boy's eyes.
Since entering adolescence, his emotions often surged like tides, and today was no different. But why was it so unbearable this time? His chest felt as though it were being crushed, making it impossible to breathe.
The boy bolted out the back door, walking aimlessly, guided only by instinct to a place he knew all too well.
Dark. Damp.
As though searching for the origin of his life, he hid in the shadows.
And then, an epiphany struck.
"I always knew I'd come back one day."
His heart pounded violently, the sound reverberating in his ears. He had always vaguely thought he'd return to his hometown someday. Yes, his hometown—the place where he truly lived.
But there was nothing left of it now.
The place, the people—they were all gone, leaving him hollow inside.
Finally, he became aware of the shell he was wrapped in.
Fake.
Everything was a lie.
The past three years came flooding back like an avalanche. He wanted to scream until his throat bled but could only clench his fists tightly.
His mind roiled, his eyes cold as winter, unsure of how to deal with the feelings surging within him. He simply stood there, powerless.
And then—
"...!"
He locked eyes with someone approaching silently.
It was a tiny child, barely reaching his waist. The child's round eyes gleamed like a rabbit's, with rosy cheeks that looked as though they'd been colored with crayon. Fine hair stood on end from static, curling slightly.
Was it a person?
Or was it a doll?
The tension in him slowly began to dissipate as he realized the figure was just a child. He took a deep breath.
Leaning against the wall, Baek Sa-eon exhaled heavily.
"Um... are you okay?"
"..."
Perhaps because of the child's small, soft presence—so different from himself—he felt disgusted and miserable.
He had tried so hard to suppress everything, but still—
A sudden wave of heat surged within him. He instinctively reached out, covering the child's eyes with his hand.
No one should see this.
It was an act of self-defense.
"Ugh... sob..."
"..."
"D-damn it... ugh..."
Whose child was this? How could he silence him?
Even as these thoughts raced through his mind, he clenched his throat tightly—
"The little squirrel can't poop—"
"..."
"Doesn't like acorns, likes grapes—"
"..."
"Grapes, grapes, green grapes—"
"..."
"Belly grumble, grumble—"
"..."
"Roll, roll—boom, boom, boom—"
The thick, sticky darkness clogging his throat suddenly caught fire and began to melt.
What was this?
The child's voice, as pure as a string of jade beads, stirred something deep inside him.
It was a purity he had never encountered before, yet it felt as terrifying as a corpse.
The boy instinctively took a step back.
The sound of his labored breathing as he retreated made his ribs feel tight and itchy.
Strangely, he didn't realize it was a form of comfort.
"This Oppa isn't Baek Sa-eon."
"...!"
"Grandfather, his face is different. It's not the same as the face I saw in the garden before."
When the girl, who claimed to be his fiancée, pointed at the boy, Baek Jang-ho walked over with a smile. He grabbed the finely dressed child, the knuckles on his aged hands jutting out sharply. Baek Sa-eon remained expressionless, but his Adam's apple quivered slightly.
Not long after, the car carrying the girl overturned.
It was a severe traffic accident. Her younger brother and the nanny died, while both daughters were injured.
At breakfast, Baek Jang-ho flipped through the newspaper and casually relayed the news.
"This is why one should be careful with their words."
"Are the daughters alright?" Baek Sa-eon asked reflexively, drawing his grandfather's quiet gaze.
"Your fiancée suffered an ear injury. She may never hear again."
His concern wasn't for the elder daughter, but the boy, adept at hiding his emotions, didn't ask further. If the older sister's ear injury was that severe, it was unlikely the younger sister escaped unscathed. His neck muscles tensed involuntarily.
"This is actually a good thing. Chairman Hong will feel even more indebted to us for taking in a disabled daughter."
The words were spoken with shameless conviction.
"Your own background isn't exactly pristine, so marrying a flawed wife isn't a loss. On the contrary, it gives them a psychological burden. This deal is a win for us."
From that day on, Baek Sa-eon frequently woke up from nightmares.
Damn Baek Jang-ho.
"Ugh...!" He jolted awake, his back drenched in cold sweat.
Though it was only a dream, the metallic scent of blood seemed to linger in his nostrils.
Huff... huff...
The world was made of water.
After all, 70% of the human body was water.
It was terrifying.
Suddenly, his throat felt constricted, and his breathing grew rapid.
At that moment, a light flickered on in the darkness.
"...!"
It was the lamp from the room next door.
Perhaps it was from then on that the light, like a beacon, began to illuminate the boy oppressed by nightmares.
"..."
He had heard that the elder sister had ear injuries, and the younger was unable to speak.
Even now, Baek Sa-eon sat alone in the dark, bathed in the glow of that light.
In the hours when everyone else was asleep, there was always one child quietly working, the light illuminating her delicate movements.
"...Hong Hee-joo."
He absentmindedly murmured her name.
At first, he had kept an eye on her, worried she might start rambling nonsense.
During several social gatherings, he had even thought of breaking her spirit.
Yet, her hand, when he grasped it, was so small and soft that he found himself losing his resolve instead.
After the accident, everything seemed to lose its significance.
Hadn't she developed mutism because of the trauma?
"..."
He frowned unconsciously.
Whenever he tossed and turned in bed, tormented by nightmares, it was the sight of Hong Hee-joo practicing sign language in the early hours of the morning that finally allowed him to fall asleep.
These nights continued until he enlisted in the military.
Was it because she couldn't speak?
She was especially quiet and never voiced complaints.
Watching her silhouette through the window, she reminded him of a tropical fish in a small aquarium—gliding effortlessly.
There must be water rippling through that child's body too.
The unspoken water seemed to flow from her fingertips, gently dripping and stirring something deep inside him.
He feared and despised water, but Hong Hee-joo's water...
The water inside her was her will, her sign that she was alive.
Ultimately, her silence became the most intriguing sound to him, a boy who had grown numb to everything else.
"Go to bed early so you'll grow faster," Baek Sa-eon muttered, his hands clasped behind his head like a sigh.
That child was different from him.
She kept on living.
And it amazed him.
The child gradually grew up. As she grew taller, so did the boy, so their eyes always met at the same level. Yet, he didn't feel regret.
Although his own growth felt slow, observing Hong Hee-joo's development became Baek Sa-eon's only hobby.
Noticing the differences between yesterday and today.
It was like playing a game of spot-the-difference, watching the girl next door. Each day passed by pleasantly enough.
Rather than dwelling on his own empty life, watching Hee-joo made him feel like he could breathe more easily. From that perspective, it wasn't so bad.
"Stop dozing off."
He slapped the table abruptly, glaring at Hong In A.
"Your sister isn't even sleeping, yet you think you can nod off?"
Though Hong In A was his fiancée, Baek Sa-eon had been dissatisfied with her from the very beginning.
He frowned and continued marking papers.
As he drew one red X after another with mechanical indifference, he suddenly noticed how unusually quiet the room had become.
He merely shifted his gaze slightly—
"..."
What was that?
Baek Sa-eon tilted his head slightly.
Hong In A's drooping head was being carefully supported by little Hee-joo's small hands.
The girl looked at him with helpless eyes. Was she asking for help?
"..."
Why not just wake her up directly?
Resting his chin lazily on his hand, he thought to himself, Is this really a person?
The only people he knew were the old man, Baek Jang-ho, the Baek Yi-ryong brothers, and his sister-in-law...
His brow twitched involuntarily.
Hong Hee-joo gingerly placed her hands between her sister's face and the cold glass tabletop, preventing her face from touching it.
Baek Sa-eon's gaze fell on those small hands, pale and sluggish like blood-starved maple leaves.
Too kind for her own good.
He clicked his tongue and drew a circle with his red pen on the paper.
Then, bang!
He delivered a hard flick to the back of Hong In A's head.