# Chapter 92
“Why do you talk like that?”
The day Jeongyeon asked this was when he brought a lot of snacks.
Since figuring out that Sano liked delicious things, Jeongyeon had been hauling all kinds of snacks. When Sano would push some toward him while munching away, saying “you eat too,” Jeongyeon would decline, saying he was full from just eating a little. It wasn’t a lie since watching Sano eat actually did make him feel full.
Sano, who was eating a cookie filled with chocolate cream without getting any on his face, responded indifferently.
“What’s wrong with how I talk.”
“You say things like ‘what is it,’ ‘what did you do,’ that kind of stuff.”
To Jeongyeon’s ears, that speech pattern was somewhat unnatural. It was the kind of tone used in narrating novels.
“Everyone here talks like this.”
“Really?”
Jeongyeon didn’t understand well since he’d never heard the researchers or his uncle talk that way. But Sano responded firmly.
“You’re the strange one.”
“No, other people talk like me too…”
Even though he was clearly right, Sano’s decisive way of speaking made him wonder if he was mistaken. Sano stared at Jeongyeon’s confused face—bewildered by the sudden gaslighting—and mumbled.
“Your way of talking isn’t bad either.”
“…Thanks?”
It felt strange, but being complimented made him feel good. Jeongyeon quickly forgot about it and passionately explained to Sano that this particular snack was tastier. The large snack bag with a cat mascot printed on it contained coated cards with the mascot printed inside. After rummaging around, Jeongyeon found a card and handed it to Sano.
“Cute, isn’t it?”
“You eat too.”
Sano took it with an indifferent face as if he didn’t really agree. Snack crumbs covered his hands.
“I’m full.”
“You’re always full.”
“I’m a light eater.”
In reality, Jeongyeon ate more than most kids his age, but right now he preferred watching Sano eat. It seemed like no one else would bring him such snacks if not for Jeongyeon. Since he eats so well, why not bring him some? Jeongyeon secretly grumbled toward the researchers and his uncle.
As they grew closer, Jeongyeon was able to hear a bit more of Sano’s story.
Sano had come here several years ago. A man who saw the boy wandering in a city park offered him food if he underwent a simple examination, and after the examination, asked if he would like to come with him. He said he would give him an ability that would allow him to live comfortably for the rest of his life.
“Ability? Superpower?”
“Don’t know.”
He didn’t specify exactly what kind of ability it was. Since Sano wasn’t particularly curious about the vague, evasive nature of the statement, he just nodded instead of prying further. What mattered to him was the offer of immediate food and shelter.
“It would be nice if it’s a superpower.”
Jeongyeon’s eyes sparkled.
“My dream is to be a hunter. It would be so cool if we could become hunters together and beat up mutants.”
“You’d always lose to me.”
“Hey, we’ve been using abilities for different lengths of time!”
Jeongyeon shot back at the mischievous comment. While Sano’s athleticism might be a little—just a little—better than his when playing, superpowers were different. Sano was still an ordinary person without superpowers, while he had a superpower that could fill this entire room. Their experience levels were different. In this field at least, there was no way he’d lose to Sano.
“I said I’m going to a high school in Chohosi. Do you know where Chohosi is?”
“Where is it.”
“There’s a huge hole called Red Void where mutants emerge. So a lot of people with superpowers live there. They say if a minor manifests superpowers, they can enter a superpower school!”
“You’re going there?”
“I think I probably will end up going there.”
Jeongyeon’s chattering face was full of excitement. Sano thought for a moment before asking.
“Then you won’t come here anymore?”
“Huh? No?”
Jeongyeon’s eyes widened. Why wouldn’t he come when Sano was here?
“I’ll come every vacation.”
“When are vacations.”
“Once in summer, once in winter. Twice a year like that.”
Sano frowned.
“That’s pathetically few.”
“…Can’t you just go out whenever you want?”
Jeongyeon asked carefully. Sano shook his head, saying he didn’t know. His uncle had said that Sano couldn’t freely move around even within the research facility. That’s why Jeongyeon could only meet Sano in the same room every time. Given the circumstances, Jeongyeon also thought it probably wasn’t possible for him to leave completely…
“So you’ll keep living here?”
The research facility was spacious, but it would feel stifling to live here one’s entire life. When Jeongyeon asked while looking around the room they were in, Sano shook his head.
“No. They said I can leave here once I get that ability.”
Honestly, he had no interest in those words and didn’t believe them, but he complied anyway. Having been on the streets without parents for as long as he could remember, Sano clearly understood how difficult it was for a child to wander alone.
Truthfully, he had been wondering lately what the point was of living confined like this. It was peaceful, but not fun. Sano’s short life had never been fun.
“Because you can’t do anything without a guardian.”
“You don’t have parents either?”
Jeongyeon asked with surprise. Sano nodded impassively.
“I was alone when I came to my senses.”
“Me too!”
This was a tremendous commonality. Jeongyeon’s voice quickened with unintentional excitement.
“So I grew up in an orphanage, but my current parents adopted me. That’s really rare, you know. Everyone was surprised. And my current parents treat me so well. Everyone asks if my parents don’t mistreat me. Seriously, movies have ruined kids’ perceptions.”
“You seem to like your parents.”
Jeongyeon smiled brightly. Happiness hung from every feature of his face.
“Yeah. I love my dad and mom so much.”
Sano silently listened to the joyful chatter about how his parents were coming here soon and he could meet them.
Jeongyeon usually bragged about his parents as if they were competing, but this was actually an issue where competition wasn’t possible. The original Sano would have cut him off, saying the meaningless boasting was noisy. But Jeongyeon’s face, excitedly explaining, was shining brightly.
Sano thought it wasn’t as bad as he expected.
“You’ll like them right away when you meet them. Everyone likes my mom and dad.”
After saying that, Jeongyeon paused. Since he was told not to talk about the research, he couldn’t even mention Sano on the phone. So did that mean he couldn’t talk about Sano even when his parents came?
He wanted to introduce his friend…
“But I don’t know if you’ll be able to meet them. My uncle told me not to mention you…”
Staring at Jeongyeon’s suddenly dejected face, Sano shrugged his shoulders.
“It won’t matter once I become a butterfly and leave.”
“That’s right!”
Jeongyeon regained his spirits. His brightened face returned to praising his parents, and Sano quietly listened to the chattering voice for a while.
“So, what did you do after coming here?”
Only after pouring out his own story did Jeongyeon change the subject. Sano thought for a moment. What he did after coming here.
“I received treatment.”
The “treatment” was painful, but the rest of life wasn’t bad. At least it was a place where he wouldn’t starve. Where this place was or what it did wasn’t particularly important to him.
But that didn’t mean he could feel goodwill toward the people who hurt him. Sano hated the treatment. It delivered pain that could never be obtained from an ordinary wound.
So naturally, he disliked the researchers who conducted it. Moreover, they didn’t speak candidly like Jeongyeon. The words from researchers were closer to inquiries trying to extract even the tiniest bit of information. Thoroughly calculated conversation.
That’s why he hardly ever responded to their casual talk. Soon, there was no one who talked to Sano that way. The silence that had constantly been with him was a familiar presence. He thought he had no complaints about that.
Much later, only after meeting his talkative friend did Sano realize that he had actually been a bit bored.
But now it was okay because he had Jeongyeon.
“Oh, I heard from my uncle. Is it going well?”
“Well…”
The people administering the treatment didn’t tell Sano anything. Not exactly what they were doing or how it was progressing. They just huddled together with serious faces, looking at charts and monitors while whispering in low voices.
Superpower, gi-ryeok, manifestation… Sano didn’t know such difficult words well. He just lay blankly on the bed, rubbing his painful arm.
“I wish I could become a butterfly soon.”
“…It doesn’t seem that great though.”
Sano occasionally spotted butterflies outside the window. Those tiny creatures flapping their thin wings looked like they could be easily crushed just by pressing lightly with a finger.
To think he was enduring such pain just to become something like that. Not even an impressive superpower… Although he had never expressed it before, he wasn’t particularly pleased.
At Sano’s grumbling, Jeongyeon’s eyes widened.
“You do know that ‘butterfly’ doesn’t actually mean a real butterfly, right?”
