MOON Ch 15

When her frail frame sat in front of the grand, massive piano, she looked all the more slender. Leaning at an angle against the stair railing, Taeha paused just as he was about to pull out a cigarette case from inside his suit jacket, and withdrew his hand.

…Not in front of a kid.

He was the type to abhor those lacking common sense, and he kept minimum boundaries and etiquette regardless of who the other person was—even if it were that kid who, despite being green as can be, blurted out all sorts of emotions and made it as glaringly obvious how uncomfortable she was every time she saw him, getting on his nerves.

Late afternoon sunlight reached beyond the wide window all the way to where the piano stood, washing Chaeon’s delicate profile clean in its light. Deep in whatever thought she was having, she simply sat quietly for a long while. The cheeks that still retained a bit of baby fat were tinged with youthfulness.

What is she trying to play? Around the time a random thought crossed his mind—that dust motes floating in the air were about to settle upon her long eyelashes—the two hands resting quietly on the keys slowly began to move.

“…”

Watching the sight in a somewhat bored mood as he ran a hand through his hair, Taeha’s fingertips stopped without a single quiver.

…Ah.

Liebestraum No. 3 (Love’s Dream).

From the very beginning of the performance, a melody that felt as though starlight were pouring down, a melodic flow that made one feel like walking on clouds throughout. Though it remained unfulfilled, it was a hymn of love itself, crafted by the composer with a heart full of thoughts for his beloved.

White, slender fingers freely roamed over the keys like waves.

Her face, changing moment by moment as it embraced rich emotions, looked like that of a complete stranger. When she sat at the bus stop thoroughly beaten up, she looked like someone who had given up on life altogether… Was she a kid with such abundance in expressions and feelings?

Looking at her lips that occasionally formed a gentle smile and the corners of her eyes that poignantly puckered, Taeha was swept up in a peculiar sensation—because a mere nineteen-year-old girl looked like someone who understood all the desperate, deep feelings embedded within that piece.

‘When you handle an instrument, you come to realize that instruments have emotions and an ego too.’

‘An instrument does? It doesn’t even have a heart or nerves.’

‘That’s because you’re still young, Taeha. Sometimes, while playing, there are moments I feel like I’m having a conversation with that instrument. Even for the same piano, every sound the keys possess is entirely different.’

“…”

The reason that past conversation, pushed into a corner of his memory, suddenly surfaced was probably because his mother’s favorite piece to play was Liebestraum. Every time she performed this piece, she used to dreamily speak of abstract things, saying it felt as though the piano were telling her it loved her.

That was the way his mother—trapped in the mansion with her hands and feet practically bound by his father, having only Taeha as the sole anchor for her heart—spoke of her loneliness.

The level of performance was beyond expectations, evoking a nostalgic yearning somewhere. Just as Taeha slowly closed his eyes, listening to the continuing performance…

“AAAAAH! AAH!”

Along with an ear-splitting scream, the sound of something shattering into pieces echoed. Immediately after, someone suddenly began coming down the stairs, practically slamming their feet, thud, thud.

The performance, which had been wistful like a dream, stopped dead as if cut short, and Taeha’s closed eyes also opened slowly.

“Just now, what…”

Over Chaeon’s flustered voice, swish, swish, the dragging sound of thin silk slippers was heard, along with occasional stumbling and thudding, before someone arrived at the landing, catching her ragged breath.

“Sob, huff…”

Discovering a woman coming down the spiral staircase all disheveled like a mad person, Taeha’s gaze sank darkly. Hollow eyes like those of a person visibly sick, skeletal, gaunt limbs exposed outside a glossy indoor dress, and cheeks hollowed out just as thin. Hair scattered haphazardly over her face.

Though it was a familiar sight to him, Chaeon, who half-rose awkwardly from the piano bench, was staring at the woman frozen like someone who had seen a ghost in broad daylight. Gazing at her aghast profile, Taeha offered a casual greeting in a low, smooth voice:

“Why are you up already?”

“Who is it…”

“You should have slept a bit more.”

“Who, which crazy thing, plays the piano in this house. In this house…”

“Whose house?”

“…”

“It’s my house.”

Spat out in an arrogant tone as if chewing on his words, when he stared intently at the woman, her chin quivered as if convulsing. Breathing in huffs and puffs, her lips were in a terrible state with marks from biting them, as was customary whenever her anxiety flared up. Seemingly unable to even hear Taeha’s words, the woman, who was frantically muttering and rolling her eyes, turned her head in the direction where Chaeon stood.

The bloodshot veins creeping creepily across the whites of her eyes and her dark eye sockets, contrasting with her pale skin tone, called a corpse to mind.

Her look… she’s completely out of her mind. Clutching her trembling hands tightly, Chaeon hesitated and took a step back. The moment she backed away a few steps on trembling legs, her back hit something solid.

“Ah…”

Startled, she raised her head, and Jang Taeha—that man—was staring down at Chaeon with a face whose emotions were impossible to read.

“I’m sorry. I was startled…”

Grabbing the shoulders of Chaeon, who whispered like a breath, Taeha straightened her up as she stumbled. Seemingly coming to check on the situation, two servants were walking over this way. When Taeha quietly signaled them with his eyes, the servants, who looked at each other for a moment, bowed politely and returned at a quick pace.

The only one maintaining composure in this spot was him. Gazing with warmthless eyes at the woman who looked as though she might die at any moment, Taeha quietly opened his mouth:

“Mother.”

Flinching, the woman’s shoulders surged heavily at Taeha’s call, and her bloodshot eyes turned toward him.

“I, I clearly told you, gasp, not to call me that…”

“She is the daughter of Ms. An, who joined recently.”

Whether Taeha introduced Chaeon to her or not, the woman approached them without taking her venomous gaze off him. Unlike Chaeon, whose heart felt tightly squeezed with fear, the low voice behind her back was nonchalant:

“The tuner dropped by, so I instructed her to play as a check. She said she used to play the piano…”

Slap!

Taeha’s words were cut short by the sharp friction sound tearing through the quiet air. Without even batting an eye, his jaw muscle, which had been staring straight ahead, swelled up for a moment before settling down again.

“…”

At the end of Taeha’s gaze, Chaeon’s head, having been hit harshly on the cheek by the woman, was turned completely to the left.

The air froze cold in an instant.

Son Jua seemed to have lost her mind entirely, whether due to the effect of medication or the sound of the piano that had triggered her underlying anxiety.

“…”

Having been slapped out of nowhere by someone she didn’t even know, Chaeon didn’t move for a while, then slowly raised a trembling hand to her cheek. Her face looked like she couldn’t grasp what on earth had just happened to her.

And again, just as Son Jua’s hand cut through the air, about to strike Chaeon—

Grab.

Her gaunt wrist was caught by Taeha, and staring at Son Jua with a calm gaze, he called her again:

“Mother.”

Gasp, sob. Son Jua let out strange noises and tried desperately a few times to break free from being caught, but the claw-like fingers gripping her wrist did not budge. Her venomous gaze, sharpened, turned toward Taeha. Meeting that gaze calmly without any particular agitation, he said:

“I instructed her to play in my house.”

“…”

“Shall I offer my cheek, too?”

At his cool gaze staring at her as if asking whether she would even dare touch him, Son Jua flinched and completely let the tension drain from the hand she had strained to the point of trembling.

Thud. Unceremoniously, as if letting go of a useless object from his hand, Taeha cast off Son Jua’s arm and turned the frozen Chaeon around. Her frail shoulders were quivering finely.

“Yoon Chaeon.”

At the low voice calling her, Chaeon bit her lip tightly. Just how fierce that gaunt hand was, the pain was so stinging that tears even gathered in her eyes.

“Look at me.”

Even though the voice calling her again was not gentle at all, tears felt like welling up all the more for no reason. Hearing a short sigh, Taeha, stepping closer, held Chaeon’s chin a bit further with one hand and made her raise her head. Looking down at the cheek that had already turned red, his eyes narrowed slightly.

“It ruptured the place that split open again.”