Chapter 47
Gyeoul and I stepped into the orphanage, the stage for our bubble shower tteok (rice cake) event.
“Is anyone here?”
“….”
But the vibe was totally different from what I had imagined. I had expected a top-notch facility since this was where a chaebol granddaughter volunteered, but it looked pretty shabby on the outside.
Did they allow her to volunteer but not give any funding? Or did they deliberately pick this rundown place?
If she’s already volunteering to polish her image, wouldn’t it be okay to throw in some cash too?
They aren’t exactly broke, so what’s the deal?
The minds of the rich were just so hard to comprehend.
The inner grounds were poorly maintained, with rust and chains broken on the swings. No matter how much I called out, there was no response, so I moved toward the main gate.
Peering inside the slightly opened front gate, I found a bulletin board decorated with brightly colored paper and non-woven fabric.
It looked like it hadn’t been taken care of too, fading to the point of turning white.
It was a scene that felt a bit eerie beyond just being shabby.
“…Can I hold Teacher Taeyang’s hand?”
Seemingly scared by the strange atmosphere, Gyeoul trembled and reached out her hand.
“Are you scared?”
“No! Not scared, just… feeling a bit chilly, I guess….”
On the outside, she looked like a tough kid who’d laugh at ghost stories, but deep down, she seemed pretty jumpy.
Seeing her act all tough yet still scared made me chuckle a bit. I felt a little mischievous watching Gyeoul.
“Booga booga!”
“Eeek!”
I suddenly yelled to give her a little scare, and Gyeoul’s hand started shaking as she squeezed her eyes shut.
“You said you weren’t scared.”
“….”
Gyeoul couldn’t respond and just made a teary face, but her hand was still outstretched.
I chuckled softly and took her hand.
“This isn’t some haunted spot; why are you so scared? It’s just a place where people live….”
“Who are you?”
At that moment, a woman appeared behind us.
She had long black hair and a ghostly white face.
“Eeek! A ghost!”
Gyeoul screamed and almost fainted, stumbling back.
Her hand shook like she had been electrocuted.
“Gyeoul, calm down! It’s a person! A person!”
…Well, you making me freaked out too.
“Ah, it was a person. I’m so sorry for the misunderstanding.”
Gyeoul wiped her misty eyes and cold sweat as she spoke.
Wiping away, I spoke.
The Ghostly Woman was staring at us intently.
I started to feel uneasy about Gyeoul’s reaction, so I apologized together.
“I’m sorry for our rude reaction. We’re a bit on the timid side.”
The Ghostly Woman spoke in an emotionless voice.
“Who are you?”
Her presence blended ominously with the eerie atmosphere of the orphanage.
I tried to maintain my composure and said.
“Sorry for the late introduction. I’m Seon Taeyang, here for volunteer work today.”
Gyeoul bowed at a 90-degree angle, doing a deep bow.
“I’m Han Gyeoul.”
As if it were only natural, she held onto my hand.
“You must be the two the Director mentioned. Please, follow me.”
The Ghostly Woman said this and began walking down the hallway.
Gyeoul was trembling as she watched her and then whispered into my ear.
“Teacher Taeyang! That person isn’t making any sound when they walk! Could they really be a ghost?”
“It’s just a technique. Not a ghost.”
“A technique that doesn’t make any sound when walking? Then, could that person be a ninja?”
Gyeoul, who had been shaking, suddenly gazed at the Ghostly Woman with eager eyes.
I crushed that hopeful sentiment without mercy.
“You’re not thinking there are ninjas in 21st century Korea, are you? She’s probably a dancer. There are steps in dance that reduce sound.”
“…So, she’s a dancer.”
“Got it? Now, let’s let go of your hand.”
How long are you planning to hold on, Gyeoul? Think about how this looks to others.
“…Can I hold on just a little longer?”
“Nope.”
“Ah….”
I forcefully released Gyeoul’s hand with my empty one.
Gyeoul, looking disappointed as she stared at her left hand, then furtively glanced at me and grabbed the sleeve of my shirt.
I figured it was a bit mean to pull away from that, so I pretended not to notice.
The Ghostly Woman guided us into a small but neatly organized room.
Looking at the nameplate on the desk, it seemed to be the Director’s office.
“Please, take a seat on the guest sofa.”
We carefully sat on the old sofa as she instructed.
The Ghostly Woman stood before us, not sitting down.
Now that I was sitting on the sofa and looking at her, the eerie atmosphere faded, and her appearance caught my attention properly.
Her long, flowing, silky black hair exuded a certain elegance that came from well-maintained locks.
Her face, sharp-edged and somewhat cold-looking, gave off a gloomy vibe that contrasted with her snow-white skin, yet I couldn’t help but feel it was elegant due to her perfect features.
If you were to model the most beautiful Asian face using computer graphics, you’d probably end up with something like that.
If you asked what an attractive face is, opinions might vary wildly, but if you insisted on asking what a perfect face is, I would definitely point to her.
Considering she still had a youthful innocence that suggested immaturity, that was about the highest praise I could give.
The white dress reminiscent of a traditional outfit was cheap and could be bought online for about 50,000 won.
Judging by its finish, it definitely wouldn’t exceed 100,000 won.
However, the hardly noticeable accessories were a different story.
They were all high-end luxury pieces.
Just looking at that headband made of metal and black velvet, I could tell it was from a high-end brand.
That alone would probably cost around 2 million won.
Yet, those luxury items didn’t stand out in a showy way; they blended seamlessly into her overall vibe.
If it weren’t for my constant study of fashion brands for collaborations, I wouldn’t have recognized even 10% of those accessories. To me, they would’ve just felt like stylish props.
This was worlds apart from the flashy displays of wealth flaunted by the nouveau riche, where the quality of their clothes got the attention, rather than the person wearing them.
She didn’t just look luxurious because of the luxury brands; she radiated sophistication as a person.
If a fashion reporter were to describe her, they’d probably use a word like “elegance.”
It would be no surprise if she were chosen as an ambassador for any high-end brand.
Indeed, she looked like an idol—one that was exceptionally unique.
What if Gaeul and Gyeoul were standing next to her?
“Do you have something to say?”
I realized I had been observing her like a statue, caught in my own thoughts.
It was a habitual instinct of mine to mentally estimate how someone would fare as an idol when I encountered someone captivating.
“Oh! I’m sorry!”
I offered my sincerest apology for my rudeness.
“I couldn’t help but stare, as your fashion sense seems exceptional. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable.”
“…Fashion? If that was your intention, it’s fine.”
I decided to change the subject to shake off the awkward atmosphere.
“Where is the Director?”
“The Director is currently engaged in external activities to secure funding.”
“What about the other staff members?”
“There are no other staff members working today. We’ve had to minimize the team due to insufficient funds for payroll.”
“…?”
So, is it just the Director and that Ghostly Woman running this vast orphanage?
It’s bizarre, but the staffing situation feels oddly familiar.
“But this isn’t something you need to worry about, volunteer. Whether the Director is here or not, the tasks won’t change.”
“What do you mean?”
The Ghostly Woman said with a slight smile on her lips.
“Cleaning the bathrooms.”
*
I scrubbed the bathroom tiles soaked with cleaning solution.
With about 50 kids living here, it was incredibly dirty.
The smell of urine wafted everywhere, and honestly, it was quite troubling. But I persevered and kept scrubbing.
Since I had been living alone with my older sister, cleaning had always been my responsibility.
To say I was a veteran in cleaning would not be an exaggeration when it came to my experience.
Thus, I took pride in my cleaning skills.
After some considerable effort, the disgusting urinals regained their original pristine white appearance.
“This is it.”
I was serious; if someone offered me decent money to lick it after I cleaned it, I would consider it!
That’s how proud I was of the cleanliness.
The downside was that, with so many residents, the bathrooms were sprawlingly large, meaning I still had over half to clean.
Would I even get home before midnight…?
“…I didn’t expect you to go this far.”
While I was focusing on scrubbing the next urinal, the voice of the Ghostly Woman came from behind me.
“It looks clean, right? When I’m assigned a task, I tend to give it my all.”
I turned to look at her, brimming with confidence, only to be met with an utterly unexpected sight.
The Ghostly Woman’s outfit was unique in a different way than just a moment ago.
Had she discarded all the elegant accessories that enhanced her grace somewhere?
Instead, she was decked out in pink rubber gloves, navy rubber boots, floral-patterned baggy pants, a discolored apron, and a mask covering half her face.
She looked like a typical cleaning lady.
I was taken aback by the sudden image change and asked, “What’s with that outfit?”
“What’s wrong with my outfit?”
“…It’s not weird, but where did that white dress you were wearing go?”
“White dress?”
The Ghostly Woman tilted her head and, without any warning, started to take off her pants.
…Wait, why are you suddenly taking off your pants, you crazy lady!
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