The Inn Keeper and the Crying Baby
"Waaah!"
"What is it now, little one? What on earth could you possibly want, hmm?"
Sowol stared into empty space, his face half-lost in a daze. Baekya had fled long ago, unable to endure the crying that had now stretched on for three days and three nights.
It'll only be a month. It'll fly right by.
Whose brilliant idea had that been, exactly?
"Waaah! Waaah!"
"All right. All right, I'm sorry. I did something wrong. I don't know what it was, but I'm sorry. Just sleep for one shichen—no, half a shichen, please, I'm begging you."
Sowol pleaded as he patted the baby's back, circling the room round and round. Only after a long while did the infant's wailing finally taper off. It seemed the little one had simply run out of steam.
Sowol held his breath and peered down at the baby. Soft, even breaths—shu, shu—sifted out from the tiny bundle. Before long, the small eyelids slid shut.
Joy bloomed across Sowol's face.
Finally asleep!
That very moment—
"Innkeeper! You open for business or not?"
The bellow from downstairs startled the baby, and the wailing began anew.
"Waaah!"
Son of a—
Sowol ground his teeth. He lowered the crying infant back into its basket and scrubbed roughly at his face.
Stay calm. A crying baby just needs to be put back down. No anger. Deep breaths, first…
"Why aren't you answering! I asked if you're open! Guess you've got no interest in making money?"
Forget it. That bastard dies first.
With bloodshot eyes blazing, Sowol strode down the stairs.
"So you're the son of a dog who was yelling?"
The man thus addressed found himself unable to answer. Sowol's killing intent made it hard simply to breathe. He staggered backward, lips flapping.
"Y-you're the innkeeper? I—I thought nobody was in, so… khek, kukek!"
Sowol seized the excuse-making man by the collar and hoisted him clean off the ground. With his feet dangling in the air, the man squeezed his eyes shut.
I'm going to die…!
But the pain he braced for never came. Instead came the creak of old wooden steps.
Creak. Creak.
Only then did the man realize he was being hauled up to the inn's second floor.
THUD!
He hit the floor and rolled, coughing violently.
"Kullok, kullok!"
As he fought to catch his breath, a voice cold as frost fell on his head.
"Get the baby to sleep."
"…I'm sorry, what?"
"Make it sleep."
The man lifted his head cautiously. In the basket, the baby was wailing at the top of its lungs.
The man came back down the stairs a short while later.
Sowol, slouched in a chair, asked, "Did you manage it?"
"Yes, Great Hero. Fast asleep."
The man answered respectfully, gingerly rubbing his own neck. Facing Sowol again, the memory of that grip on his collar came back vivid as life.
"How did you do it?"
"I just… held the baby."
"…Just held it?"
"Yes. Just held it."
At this impossible answer, Sowol stared at him in silence.
Thatjust held it hadn't worked, and it had cost him three sleepless days and nights. So why had the baby gone straight to sleep the moment this fool picked it up?
Under Sowol's savage glare, the man quietly eased himself backward.
"Shall I… be on my way, then?"
"…Go on."
At Sowol's wave, the man bolted, stumbling over his own feet. Feeling unaccountably wronged, Sowol glared at the empty staircase before dragging his heavy body back upstairs.
The baby was sleeping soundly.
"…And yet its sleeping face is such a sweet one."
He grumbled and slumped against the wall. His whole body weighed a thousand catties. Just as he thought he might let his eyes drift shut for a moment, he heard movement downstairs.
Creak. Creak.
The sound of the stairs came closer. Sowol forced his heavy eyelids open, rose, and opened the door. Jang Wi, his next-door neighbor, stood there.
"Yeon hyung, you not doing business these days? It's been days since I've seen the lantern lit—wait, why is there a baby?"
Sowol blinked his severely bloodshot eyes and spoke with what strength he had left.
"Jang, little brother… please save me."
Jang Wi brought his wife, Wang Yeom, back with him about the time of an evening meal.
"Good heavens! You've been minding a newborn all by yourself?"
Aghast, Wang Yeom rolled up her sleeves and summoned the women of the village.
"Aiigo, look at the state of this place!"
The women who came running clucked their tongues and set about cleaning the inn. As Sowol stood there awkwardly, Wang Yeom gave his back a firm push.
"One look at you and I can tell you haven't slept a wink. Don't you worry about the baby—go get some sleep."
"…Thank you."
Without ceremony, Sowol collapsed onto the bed. Sleep swallowed him the instant his back touched the bedding.
But soon, Baekya's voice woke him.
"…Hyung, hyung! Mrs. Wang says she's leaving."
It felt as if he'd only closed his eyes for a moment, yet the sunset was already bleeding out the window. Sowol gathered his wits with effort and made his way downstairs.
The inn was clean beyond recognition. Everything that had been scattered about had found its proper place, and on one end of a table lay a tidy row of freshly washed diapers. Beside the long cabinet stood a cradle he'd never seen before.
Wang Yeom, who had been rocking the baby, turned to look at him.
"Sleep well?"
"I owe you one."
"Owe me nothing. Ah—I fed the baby twice. Quite a docile little thing, isn't it?"
Sowol found himself speechless. If three days of nonstop wailing counted as docile, he couldn't begin to imagine what an ill-tempered baby looked like.
Perhaps she read the thought on his face, because Wang Yeom laughed and said, "It was probably the cloth diaper—all stiff and scratchy. I've brought Danwoo's old ones, so use these from now on. And let the baby sleep in the cradle."
Pointing at the diapers and the cradle, she handed the baby over and asked, "So what's the little one's name?"
"It doesn't have one yet."
"No name? Well, it still needs something to be called. Go on, give it one."
"It's only a temporary arrangement, so that would be… a bit much."
Sowol smiled sheepishly and looked down at the baby. A name was something that clung to you for life. It wasn't Sowol's to give—it belonged to whoever would raise the child.
"Why are you interrogating the man? Let's go, Yeon hyung. We're off."
"A man can ask questions, can't he? What, I can't even ask this much?"
At Jang Wi's scolding, Wang Yeom pouted and turned on her heel.
"Thank you for today. Travel safe."
"If the baby gets to be too much, just call for us. Lay it down next to our Danwoo and we'll mind them together."
Sowol nodded without protest. Saying he'd be fine would have been a lie—he needed someone's help, desperately.
From then on, Wang Yeom dropped by the inn whenever she passed, teaching him the care of an infant piece by piece. Sowol obeyed her every word like a dutiful student—truthfully, knowing nothing, that was exactly what he ought to do.
After about seven days and nights, Sowol came to understand that the baby had its own ways of expressing itself.
A full-blown WAAAAH meant hunger—a petulant demand for food. Scrunched-up features and fretful squirming meant the baby was uncomfortable lying where it was. A "Waaah!" meant someone had committed a discourtesy.
And when Sowol failed to understand, Baekya filled in the gaps.
"Ueeeng…!"
"Hyung. Baby hot."
"Hot, is it?"
Half doubting, Sowol moved the brazier away from the cradle. The crying stopped as if by magic.
Wonderstruck, Sowol peered into the cradle, and the baby—lips that had been smacking together—broke into a wide grin.
"…So you can smile, too."
Sowol froze for a moment, then lightly touched the baby's cheek with a fingertip. Tiny hands clamped around his finger, holding tight.
Looking at the absurdly small hand, Sowol chuckled.
"Well, look at you."
It was rare for a child to smile at the sight of his face. No—it wasn't only children. Most people, upon seeing him, averted their eyes first. But this little creature was different. It clung without hesitation to his scar-riddled fingers and burrowed into his arms as though it belonged there.
"…Can't tell if you know nothing, or if you simply have no fear."
Sowol murmured to himself as he loosened the swaddling cloth. Only then did he get a proper look at the baby's face.
On closer inspection, the shape of those eyes seemed rather like 83-ho's.
Sowol swallowed a bitter smile.
"Whew. Well. It's not as though you've done anything wrong, is it? The fault lies with that monk who dumped you here and walked away."
The child had lost its mother the moment it was born and had been passed from place to place until it arrived here. For 83-ho's sake, he could look after the baby for a month or so.
As though it had read his heart, the baby beamed and squeezed his finger tighter.
That instant—the baby's eyes flashed gold.
The coins on the long cabinet began to tremble.
Ching-grang.
The clink of colliding coins rang through the inn. Sowol turned toward the metallic sound—and froze solid.
A cluster of coins was floating in midair, bobbing gently.
Sowol's jaw dropped.
"…Space-Grabbing Technique?"