By Zephyria 
At first, he wondered what the sound was, but soon, as a rushing shhh spread across his ears, he realized it was the sound of rain.
He was screwed. His heart sank with a heavy thud.
It was raining outside.
When it rained, waves surged in the sea and boats rocked violently, making it extremely dangerous. That was why fishermen would shut themselves inside their homes to drink soju with sashimi or take long naps during such times.
What if the rain stopped someone from coming for the boat…?
As anxious thoughts branched out incessantly, Eun-myeong squeezed his eyes shut. He had to organize his mind so he wouldn’t be consumed by the panic.
Naturally, his grip tightened. Unconsciously, he clung tightly to the lighter in his hand.
A lighter with a rough surface that felt like crocodile leather. It belonged to the man.
‘Anyway, just know that if you get caught wandering around recklessly, you’re getting your ass beat.’
The coarse voice pierced through Eun-myeong’s eardrums like an awl, stabbing deep into his rigid brain. He should have just listened to the Boss. With belated regret, Eun-myeong scratched the surface of the lighter with his fingertips.
Perhaps because it had been lit frequently, the lighter fortunately still held some warmth. Eun-myeong curled his body up, leaning on that faint heat.
How much time had passed? The rain began to fall even more fiercely, shhhhh. The sea gradually grew in size, surging and swelling. He felt as if his body were floating upward, as if pushed by surface tension.
“…Ugh.”
Every passing second and minute was brutal. Each moment stabbed Eun-myeong sharply like a harpoon. Since he had no way of knowing the time, a single instant stretched out long like taffy.
He would knock on the door and scream for help, then, exhausted, he would crouch in a corner. When he felt he had regained a bit of strength, he would climb the ladder and repeat the same actions. Eventually, completely worn out, he remained huddled for a long time.
Then, he must have drifted into a shallow sleep without realizing it.
“…Ugh.”
When he opened his eyes again, it was because something was piercing them sharply. Sunlight…? He quickly looked up, and a faint light was leaking through the gap in the door. At the same time, he sensed a presence.
Had someone finally come?
Eun-myeong scrambled up the ladder. A stinging sensation surged through his already waterlogged hands, but that didn’t matter.
“Someone’s here! Please help me!”
Fearing they might not have heard, he pounded on the top once more.
“There’s someone inside the fish hold!”
But there was no answer. Only the hollow sound of the thumping echoed. Had he misheard in his sleep? His heart, which had swelled with hope, plummeted in disappointment.
To make matters worse, a thunderous rumble-crash engulfed the area. Thunder and lightning had begun to strike. The weather seemed exceptionally temperamental. That was probably why no one had boarded the boat—because of the typhoon rain.
The sun had been out for days, so why was he so unlucky right now? A sense of misfortune crashed over him like a wave, seemingly driving Eun-myeong toward his death.
‘Unlucky little brats.’
The Director’s voice echoed once more. Eun-myeong shook his head violently, wanting to block it out. He pinched the back of his hand hard, telling himself to wake up.
‘You useless pieces of pork.’
Yet the voice was hard to resist, as if it were descending from the heavens.
After that, Eun-myeong climbed the ladder several more times. He tried knocking with his fists and slamming the top with his elbows, but it was of no use.
Eun-myeong finally gave up. He folded his knees and curled up blankly in a corner. Though he couldn’t see clearly, his hands felt ragged.
Except for a single streak of light descending from above, the inside of the fish hold was absolute darkness. It felt as if he were trapped in some narrow space.
Just like a boiler room—yes, like a boiler room….
Trapped in the darkness and silence, Eun-myeong began to be seized by fierce, intrusive thoughts.
The Director used to punish the children in hidden places, claiming he was “reforming” them. But when they committed a truly grave mistake, he would drag them into the director’s office and throw them, crumpled, into the boiler room at the very back.
It was a tiny place, just large enough for one person. Moreover, it was so dark that there was nothing except the sliver of light coming through the door gap.
‘Eun-myeong, because you’re such a piece of trash, even your mother and father abandoned you.’
‘Teacher, I’m sorry, I’m sorry….’
A place where neither presence nor warmth could be felt. It was the place Eun-myeong feared most in the world. He had begged for forgiveness, tears and snot streaming down his face, but the Director had never shown mercy once.
A tiny prison where all freedom had been castrated. There, Eun-myeong suffered from hunger and loneliness.
The Director told them that this was how their lives were meant to be—that orphan brats without parents were born with nothing—and left the children locked away and neglected so they could feel the agony.
Like that for a day, two days, or at most three…. Occasionally, the door would open, and a little bit of water would come in. He was given just a few sips of water to barely keep him breathing.
When he finally came out, Eun-myeong would look vacant, as if he had lived for decades in the body of a child.
Once, a Noona had stormed into the director’s office and rescued him. Naturally, he was scolded severely afterward, but the Noona told him she was glad to be with him.
Eun-myeong had felt the same.
“…….”
Now… of course, Noona couldn’t come. She wouldn’t know he was here. Because he had made sure she would never know.
At the thought of being completely alone, hallucinations began to flicker before his eyes. Since everything was submerged in darkness, he couldn’t distinguish reality from delusion. He felt as if the Director might appear from the shadows at any moment, holding a golf club in one hand.
Get it together. Eun-myeong gripped his knees tightly. He squeezed the lighter in his hand. Scritch, scritch, scritch—Eun-myeong frantically scratched the crocodile leather surface of the lighter with his broken nails. He struggled desperately not to lose consciousness.
However, as the time spent trapped increased and the sound of the rain grew stronger, his mind was gradually stolen by the darkness.
…What if.
What if, just what if, no one ever came and he eventually suffocated to death? What if the bottom of the boat suddenly gave way and his body plunged into the sea…?
Eun-myeong curled his body tight like a pill bug. The darkness gnawed at him bit by bit, like an insect. It snatched at his wrists and ankles, then soon covered his entire body, pressing down heavily.
“Please save me, I’ll be good…. I won’t cry. I’ll only eat a little bit of food.”
Tears streamed down his cheeks. It was now too burdensome to even keep his eyes open. Moreover, the floor was freezing. At this time of year, seawater was literally ice water. The piercingly low water temperature flowed through the boat, freezing Eun-myeong’s body like a slab of ice.
His narrow jaw trembled violently. He felt as if he were naked and soaked in ice water. His eyelids were swollen, and his eyelashes clumped together, feeling heavy as lead.
No one will be able to help me. I’m an orphan, an idiot, a cripple—even my parents threw me away. No one knows I’m here. No one.
I’m going to die like this.
…Ah, but you idiot.
At a sudden surging thought, Eun-myeong opened his mouth with an “Ah.” Then what would happen to Noona?
Perhaps Noona should have just abandoned him and fled overseas. He should have been the one stuffing drugs into the crab shells. Noona shouldn’t have done that for his sake. She should have abandoned him long ago.
“Stupid bastard….”
Eun-myeong muttered a curse. There was nothing he could do. He couldn’t pay back the debts, he couldn’t finish school, he couldn’t take Noona to the hospital, he couldn’t put drugs in the crab shells in her stead, and he couldn’t even become an Omega.
He could do nothing. It would be the same in the future. He would be quietly forgotten in people’s memories.
He felt so sorry for Noona. If he had known it would end like this, he should have at least written a letter saying he was going to Seoul. He should have told her he was always grateful and sorry. Eun-myeong slowly counted the money he had in his head. It was about 250,000 won in cash. He should have left that for her.
Eun-myeong’s deep-rooted misfortune continued to branch out incessantly. Like a person rooted in one spot, Eun-myeong sat curled up and shivered. He clenched his fingers. He clawed at the air, holding onto nothing.
There was nothing in his hand.