KEG 91
***
The hospital bed was empty.
I cleaned around the bed, as was my duty.
Several classical music scores, a CD player, a collection of poems by the same poet, and letters were carefully placed inside a well-worn box. The letters contained messages like, “I miss you, Teacher.”
“Ho-hyung, should I give those to the family?”
I briefly took out a contamination detection strip. It was a disposable strip not meant for human use.
I tore off a corner of the letter, dampened it with water, and held it up to the strip.
“We’ll have to incinerate this.”
It was contaminated to a level nearly on par with monster byproducts. The patient’s belongings would be placed in a specially treated bag and sent to an incineration facility somewhere.
“Huh? But why are you keeping that?”
“If we just throw it away, the bereaved family will sue us.”
“Come on, as long as we keep quiet, no one will know.”
That’s right. We’re capable of doing things like that. It was possible to erase a person’s entire life.
We were just janitors, yet such obliteration was possible.
“The patient was a company commander in the 7th Division. ”
“Huh?”
He was the guy who said I looked like a kid carrying a doll because of all the dog tags on my bag. He even called me an idiot and asked why someone like me was alive and wasting taxpayers’ money on a pension.
“He had a terrible temper, burning him will bring bad luck.”
A man who caused all kinds of trouble whenever we crossed paths in life.
I had no particular regrets. It was just standard procedure.
I separated them one by one, took photos, organized the list, and charted it out. After that, I transmited the data and sent them to the incinerator.
Even if it’s a hassle, this is my job.
“Don’t complain about a job you’re getting paid for.”
“No~ but still~ coming here to clean but doing paperwork is…”
“Shut your mouth.”
“Yes, sir.”
Lee Yuksam shut his mouth, but he pouted his lips to show his dissatisfaction.
How long has it been since they hired him that he’s already trying to slack off? I’ll have to crack down on discipline soon.
“By the way, is your name Lee Yuksam?”
A voice came from beside us. The person had overheard Lee Yuksam and my conversation.
Room 4 was a two-person room. And the owner of the remaining bed was the little teacher.
“Your name sounds like a poet’s.”
“A poet? Is there a poet with a name like that?”
“Yes, he’s even in the Korean language textbook, Lee Yuksa…”
Lee Yuksam and the little teacher quickly became friends. One had a mental age that was far too high, and the other had a mental age that was far too low. It seemed they had found common ground somewhere in the middle and hit it off.
“I’m teaching Dark Mister how to study too.”
“Wow, really? Then I won’t have to go to school!”
The little teacher pursed his lips and huffed. Then he boasted that if he just kept up with his lessons, he could become smart.
“Anyway, Number Mister. Do you know what a ‘steel rainbow’ is?”
“Hmm…? A steel rainbow…? Ho-hyung! Does Ho-hyung know?”
“I don’t know. I only finished middle school.”
“Dark Mister always says he only finished middle school whenever he’s at a disadvantage.”
The little teacher called me “Dark Mister” and Lee Yuksam “Number Mister.”
Why doesn’t he just call people by their names instead of using these weird nicknames? Wouldn’t it be more efficient to just pick one name and stick with it?
“Ho-hyung, does a steel rainbow count?”
“If it’s something like a kukri or a katana.”
“Oh! I’ve used a kukri before!”
As Lee Yuksam and I were talking about weapons, the little teacher said with a disgusted look on his face.
“Is all you think about is fighting?”
“Huh? No! Ho-hyung says there’s a flower garden in my head~ Isn’t that pretty?”
The young teacher glanced at me. I just shrugged my shoulders.
No matter how much I cursed him, it automatically got filtered to sound beautiful to that kid. I gave up on the idea of winning against someone like that a long time ago.
“It’s a poem with the line, ‘Winter must be a rainbow made of steel.’ The title is ‘The Summit.’ The author is Lee Yuksa.”
The teacher opened a poetry collection and pointed to the line he’d just mentioned.
It was an old, unfamiliar collection. It looked like it had been handed over by the owner of the bed I’d cleared earlier today.
“Could I check the contamination levels on that?”
“Hmm… I don’t want to tear it up…”
The teacher hesitated for a moment, then tore off a corner.
I tested it and confirmed that it had stopped just short of the incineration threshold. If the little teacher, who had begun emitting contamination energy, kept it for a few more days, it would reach the level required for incineration.
“Winter represents a tragic reality. The rainbow represents the happiness that comes after suffering.”
“Huh? Then what does ‘Winter is a steel rainbow’ mean? Is tragedy happiness?”
The teacher and Lee Yuksam dove headfirst into their Korean language class.
Lee Yuksam kept asking questions, seemingly unable to understand the poem’s meaning. He appeared to be interpreting it literally as the equation ‘Winter = Steel Rainbow.’
“Oh, it means that joy will come after suffering. ”
“Huh? But there’s no line saying winter ends?”
I took a photo of the poetry collection and reported the contaminated energy hazard item via the hospital staff messenger.
Then I read aloud the verse of the poem that Lee Yuksam and the teacher were looking at.
There was no line about winter ending. It was simply a passage about a figure on a frost-covered plateau enduring pain.
“Uh, uh… As for why it means ‘joy comes after suffering’… um…. This poem uses… ‘paradox’? I think that’s what they called it… Ah, I heard the explanation…”
The little teacher stammered, flustered by Lee Yuksam’s question.
“What’s a paradox? And why is the title ‘The Summit’?”
“Um…. Well…. That’s….”
Faced with Lee Yuksam’s repeated questions, the teacher looked almost on the verge of tears. Perhaps he took pride in the fact that he was teaching someone, so when he was asked a question he didn’t know the answer to, his voice noticeably grew quieter and he became dejected.
“Looks like it’s really tough.”
At my remark, Lee Yuksam and the teacher both turned to look at me.
“The ‘Summit’ of pain. I guess that’s what it means.”
The little teacher nodded vigorously at my offhand remark. It seemed he’d stumbled upon the correct answer by sheer luck.
“Huh? Then why do they call winter a rainbow?”
“Well, maybe he saw the aurora in Alaska.”
“Hahaha! That’s right! There are rainbows that appear in cold places too!”
When I said there were even poems this crappy, Lee Yuksam nearly doubled over with laughter.
He actually likes puns like that. His mental age really is low. Seongho intentionally breaks 무지개 (rainbow/mujigae) and transform it into 개 같은 (gaegateun/damn, shitty, fucking, crappy)
Anyway, it was nice not to have to deal with him pestering people. Whether he was giving me a hard time or giving someone else a hard time, it was equally annoying either way.
“Hmm, anyway! You understood, right? People really do need to learn~”
I was the one who said it, but the teacher looked proud. Even though it was a statement I didn’t even know was correct or not.
Is he just enjoying the moment?
Teaching, learning, reading together.
“Number Mister, come with Dark Mister next time. Let’s study together.”
“Okay! I’ve never been to school before!”
“Just like me. Me neither.”
The little teacher and Lee Yuksam formed a strange bond.
School isn’t really a big deal, so why do they want to go so badly? Even if they go, they’ll just end up like me when they grow up.
“By the way, what’s your name, Teacher?”
Amid the warm atmosphere, Lee Yuksam asked the little teacher. The teacher tilted his head for a moment before answering.
“I… I…?”
The teacher’s gaze went blank.
When Lee Yuksam saw him sink into a swamp of thought, as if he’d been asked a difficult question, he said innocently,
“Don’t you have a name?”
“I do….”
“Then why can’t you speak?”
“Uh… uh…?”
The teacher clutched his head and fell face-down. He let out a stifled groan and began to break out in a cold sweat.
“Go… go to the entrance… escape the maze… it’s dangerous here….”
The teacher spoke in gasps, like a broken speaker.
His eyes lost focus, and a disturbing green glow began to emanate from his body.
“Go out first… No, don’t go out… Don’t leave me behind… I’m scared, scared, scared…”
If this continues, his powers will run wild. He need guiding immediately.
I pressed the call button by the teacher’s bedside.
“Yes, Room 4. How may I assist you?”
“Black Panther… Ahem, Room 4 situation report: 11:23 a.m. Patient Kim Minjun complaining of confusion and severe headache. Requesting medical staff and a Guide. Over.”
After making the call, I looked at the teacher, who was trembling.
In times like this, I had to respond exactly as I was trained. Keep my voice low and steady. Be gentle and reassuring.
“I’m scared…”
“I’m right here.”
I saw a small, delicate hand clinging to me. I stroked his back, which was getting damp with cold sweat, and raised the side rails to prevent him from falling.
“Yuksam, turn off the TV.”
“Yes, sir.”
I turned down the volume and removed any sharp objects that could pose a danger. That was the standard procedure before the medical staff arrived.
Soon after, the medical staff arrived, and Lee Yuksam and I finished tidying up the room before leaving the ward.
“I guess if you’re going to have a best friend, it’s best to have someone sturdy like Ho-hyung.”
Even in a hospice ward where everyone was living day to day, he was still looking for best friends. He really had no prejudices.
“You only work two days a week, so why do I see you so often?”
I asked Lee Yuksam, who was chattering away on his own.
Lee Yuksam worked two days a week. Since it was a rotating schedule, he didn’t have set days, but this was the third time we’d run into each other this week.
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