...That was when I realised a familiar young girl, probably in her teens was silently shedding tears right in front of me. Being the gentleman I usually am, I handed her my hankerchief awkwardly and asked if I could help her.
"Ma'am, is there anything wrong? Can I help you in anyway?" I asked formally.
"No, thanks," That was all she could reply, with a cracked voice.
I didn't want to bombard her with questions, so I chose to remain silent.
Silence filled the air between us for a while.
When her nose had regained its natural colour, she asked, "Aren't you the one whose brother spread the virus?"
I was speechless for a moment. I found it quite rude and straight of her to ask that. But then, I replied with a simple 'Yes'. I wondered how she knew that.
It seemed as if she had really read my mind and answered,"It's all over the news."
"If I may ask sir, didn't your brother create any notes while making the virus?" She asked abrubtly.
"He did. And I'm carrying them to Seoul," I replied rather gloomily.
Yes, I was carrying them to Seoul to create the antitode. But unfortunately, I couldn't understand most of them. I wish I were with Mr Kim Namjoon, the greatest biologist of the 21st century. He would have definitely helped me in this deadly work.
Only if he hadn't been affected the virus...
Again, she seemed to read my mind and asked,"What if another scientist would help you in understanding the notes?"
"What if someone would help you in creating an antitode to the virus?" She asked again, curiousity clearly visible in her eyes.
Okay, not everyone thinks that bombarding someone with questions is kind of embarrassing.
"I'd be the happiest of all. But why would anyone do so. Also, it wasn't a normal virus. Creating an antitode to it isn't a piece of cake. Only a genius, I believe, would be able to create the antitode right on time," I replied.
"Sir, I know it sounds weird but could you show me those notes please? Just for once?" She asked, her eyes full of hope.
"I'm sorry but I can't show them to you. They are confidential," I replied politely.
"Believe me sir. It won't cause any harm," She said, her eyes tearing up again.
Young girls are a pain in the ass these days. I didn't want her to cry again.
But I didn't want to put hundreds of lives at risk too. So, I refused her to show those notes again, this time rather strictly.
Without arguing anymore, she stood up and walked away, probably to some other coach of the train. What she left behind was a photograph that fell out of her purse and her bitter memory in my mind.
I picked that photograph up and went to return it to her but someone in that photograph caught my attention. It was Mr Kim Namjoon with his daughter, Kim Sohee, just as intelligent as him.
Wait -