Ji-ahs head ached. She put her palm on her forehead and pulled away, wincing, as if having touched a hot pan. She placed the IV feed—two bottles suspended on a metal rod, with a tube com from each and poking into her arm—away from her and took a seat.
"Well, even if I were to go to school, I don't know how long it will last," she said. "It was fun to give it a try though, even if it hadn't always brought joy. Still, seeing my students and watching them grow made it worth it." She laughed lightly. "Ah, don't worry though, my illness isn't contagious. I'm not that irresponsible to risk spreading it." She pointed at her chest. "See, it seems to be a genetic mutation, though I don't understand that much of it either. You know, the doctors always have a way to avoid the questions, either by changing the topic entirely or wrapping it neatly in a bundle of medical jargon that you didn't even want to listen to. But in essence, it's something with my lungs. Something about a disease that decays the tissue around them. And if that reached my heart, that would be the end of me, I suppose."
"It doesn't sound too pleasant, putting aside the health-risk." Lee Dojin patiently let her speak her story. He had placed the backpack on the ground, which in turn was getting wet due to the rain building up around the pathways. He looked at Baek Ji-ah and asked her, "Say, do you mind if I come in?"
Ji-ah stared at Lee Dojin. She was rather hesitant. Even if she planned on quitting the educator job, it would set a bad precedence for a student and teacher to get too intimate. However, when her eyes fell on his soaked backpack and shoes, she felt bad for making him wait outside in such cold weather. It was her who made him listen to the story after all. "You can come in, but don't stay too long."
Lee Dojin nodded and jumped through the window. Entering, he felt warmer already. Ji-ah had a room for herself, as he noticed no other patient. The walls were painted a pot-yellow, which hurt one's eyes after staring at it for too long. The old TV crackled, playing the news with oversaturated colors. The smell of disinfectant wafted in the air. Faintly, he heard footsteps come and go. Baek Ji-ah sat on the bed, her arms on her thighs, while her bare feet kept wriggling around, hugging each other.
"It's quite cozy," Dojin remarked.
"Don't jest, you will make me angry," the teacher replied. "I've been through many hospitals in my life, but this place has to be one of the worst."
"Don't keep your expectations too high," he said and thought about The First Advent. "Something tells me it will only get worse from now."
Ji-ah smiled wryly. "If that's true, I'd rather just stay home. But then again, the country does put a lot of taxes into healthcare. Unless something terrible happens, hospitals should only get better."
"Well, I wouldn't place my stocks on it." Lee Dojin shrugged his shoulders. "In fact, have you ever heard Hojin Machinery and Smithing? I hear that place is doing rather well." He strolled around, observing and taking in everything. A half-eaten egg sandwich lay on the table, surrounded by crumbs. Ji-ah didn't want to eat it anymore. He thought about it, weighing his choices, then decided to take a bite. It was delicious.
The woman watched Lee Dojin's antics, with her eyebrows twitching. "I've never heard of that place. It sounds kind of dubious, honestly," She said, and her words saddened Dojin. "Take a seat."
"I thought you didn't want me to stay that long?"
"Yes, but I feel anxious if you keep staring at me like that."
"Okay, don't mind if I do then." He sat down on the chair, placing his bag next to him. The rain dripping down the roof made a soothing sound. "Anyway, you want to stop being a teacher? Why?"
"I mean, isn't that obvious?" She stretched her hands out as if telling him to look.
"Maybe. It's hard to say when I've never been in your shoes." He crossed his legs. "Want to tell me why? From my experience, it actually feels good letting it all out." He took another bite from the sandwich.
Did he really want to listen? Ji-ah tilted her head and waited for Lee Dojin to change his mind, but he didn't. Instead, he continued eating her food and hoping for her to talk. She rubbed her temples. That guy really went his own pace. "For one, I'd have to stop teaching sooner or later, when my illness catches up with me. It would be unfair for the students if they got used to me, only to then disappear." She mulled over her thoughts. Since her decision was quite recent, she didn't have time to sort them yet. "Another one, I've been thinking these days, maybe I'm just not suited for the job. There's a lot more that comes to teaching than I initially thought. Socializing with your peers, being bossed around by your superiors, and getting nagged at by parents," she rambled on, then realized something. "Wait, why am I telling you all that? I sometimes forget that you are a student too." She held her head in regret.
Lee Dojin stopped eating. He asked her, "Do your students like you?"
"I do hope so," she said with conviction.
He chuckled. "Then that is all that matters." He downed the last bite of the sandwich and stood up.
"I mean, there's still a lot more than that, you know?"
Lee Dojin shook his head. "No, there isn't. At least I don't think there is." He thought about all the other kids he had taught throughout the years. He had his ups and downs with them too—and though he didn't know what it meant to be a traditional educator at a school, he did understand what it meant to teach others. "In the end, no matter the struggles you go through, the fights you had or the setbacks you faced, if the student leaves remembering your lesson, then you have done your job. I believe that with my heart."
"Yeah, that would be the dream." She leaned one hand against the yellow wall. "But in reality, the disgusting bureaucracy of the world will sooner or later get in your way. Not just for me as a teacher, but also for my brother, and one day, when you have a job, for you too." She brushed her hair aside and stared into the distance. "Reality is a joke. A disappointment."
"That may be true. Still, you have to go on."
Baek Ji-ah bit her lips. "How can you say that so lightly? What do you understand?" She turned a little angry, and her tone sharp. "I became my ideal teacher, I studied a lot, I worked hard, I followed everything I could. Yet, once again life has come to ruin me." It was aggravating. Excruciating even. That was maybe why she did something she promised herself to never do and lashed out at a student.
"See, you don't get it." He shook his head. "Life doesn't change that easily, and I'm sure you know that. Life is not something you conform to. Or else, like a pencil that's continuously sharpened, you will eventually lose your shape."
Ji-ah looked at her feet. She was lost. "Then... then, what should I do?"
"It's easy, really." He held his hands up. "Grasp it, take it, devour everything. Relinquish your fate. Yes, life is nothing but a meaningless hell. You will come to realize that even more in the future. So shape it however you want. Even if no one else will, stand by your beliefs." He paused. "Just like your brother did. You were the one who told me, all you remember were his smile, his hopes. Will you carry them on, or will you lay them to rest forever?"
A flicker of light appeared in her irises, though it vanished as quickly. "But how do I do it? I have nothing."
Lee Dojin formed a fist. He gave her a rough smile, then pointed at her chest. " You do. You have conviction. If you can't have faith in yourself, then I will do it for you. Keep your chin high, for you are Baek Ji-ah." The Mother of Ravens. "A teacher."
Ji-ah's eyes widened. She had her hand stuffed in her lap and listened attentively. It was as if their roles had been inverted and she became the student. "...You aren't as I expected you to be." She thought about the Lee Dojin in the stories. A young boy bullied and ostracized by his peers, yet still unruly and independent—at least so he seemed in their past meetings.
At the same time, Lee Dojin saw the Mother of Ravens. Her dead eyes, unruly hair, and the black fog that always enveloped her—at least so she seemed in their past meetings. "Back to you."
She giggled. "You know, sometimes, I wished that the world would just stop moving. Only one day, so I can simply relax from my turbulent life." She let out a bitter laugh, the wind swaying strands of hair in her face.
"I suppose that may be fun. I used to dream of such times too." Lee Dojin leaned back, and his eyes followed her sight, as if able to see what she was dreaming about. "Well, not anymore."
A silent tear slid down her face. She held her mouth. "Huh?" She shut her eyes, trying to hold back her sobs, but even when no one could see them, her cries betrayed her. "Uh, I'm sorry, I don't know what has gotten into me," she tried saying, though they turned into muffled groans. She kept wiping her cheeks, hoping she could stuff those tears back in. Her voice echoed in the quiet hospital room, the dripping rain accompanying her melody.
Lee Dojin stood up and walked towards her. He held her head against his chest for what seemed a long time. She grabbed his shirt, leaving imprints of her tears on him.