Suddenly, the door flung open with a loud kick, and a young girl, around 15 years old, with dirty blonde hair and wearing old, patched clothes, entered holding a heavy bucket of water with both hands and a towel around her neck. As soon as she saw me, her eyes widened in shock. She dropped the bucket and stuttered, "Ah-ah… he's awake," before dashing out of the room.
I could hear her fading screams as she ran, "Mom, he's awake… HE'S AWAKE!" I even wondered if she knew any words apart from the ones she kept repeating.
Struggling I stumbled towards the bed and sat down.
"I guess the pain is getting a little more bearable," I muttered, a breath of relief escaping my mouth. A couple of minutes later, the girl returned with an older woman who had similar features but appeared more mature, with a few wrinkles on her face.
"See! I told you he's awake," the girl said, pointing at me. The woman reacted a little but her response was much more composed than her daughter's.
After a few moments of shocked silence, the woman teared up and said, "Mr. Song, you're awake… mhm-mhfm," while covering her mouth with her hand, trying to stifle her whimpering. She walked towards me with shaky but determined steps, then cupped my face affectionately with her hand. I didn't resist seeing how hard she was trying to hold back her emotions. I could sense her genuine happiness.
'Do I know this woman?' I wondered, unable to recall ever meeting her. Even though I didn't reject her touch out of politeness, that didn't mean I wasn't wary of her. After she finally calmed down, I asked, "Ah, sorry, but… who are you?"
A few seconds passed before she registered what I said, and her eyes widened in shock. "You don't know who I am? Mr. Song, are you saying you don't remember me?" she asked, holding my hand desperately, her eyes pleading.
"Sorry, but I don't know you. Have met before?" I replied after a few seconds. The calmness she had tried so hard to maintain crumbled. "Oh my God!
Did you lose your memory? I've been looking after you your whole life… you don't remember me, your aunt?" she cried, tears streaming down her face.
I was puzzled by her words. I had never known that either of my parents had siblings. Seeing my confused expression, the woman extended her hand towards my face again. Before she could touch me, I pulled away and said coldly, "My parents didn't have any siblings. Who are you to say you're my aunt?"
The girl, who had been silently observing all this time, finally spoke up. "Mom, I think he has lost his memory," she said, looking at me with an uncertain expression.
Turning to her, I said, "I haven't lost my memory. Who are you people? Where's Jerry?" I looked around the room, searching for any sign of my assistant.
"Call Mr. Hatori. We need to tell him," The woman instructed the girl before turning back to me. "It's okay, Mr. Song Everything will be fine," she said with a smile that failed to conceal her sadness. I sat there, dumbfounded.
She met my gaze with a grave expression before lowering her head and leaving the room. Just before she exited, she turned to her daughter and said, "Bring him warm water to clean himself and a clean pair of clothes," casting one last glance at me before walking away. The girl nodded and followed her mother out.
Left alone in silence, I sank into deep thought.
It was clear they weren't bad people and seemed genuine, but the situation was still baffling. Glancing at my dirty palm, I noticed a fresh cut on my wrist. Oddly, I didn't feel the pain until I saw it, but it was manageable.
The girl returned and said, "I've prepared the shower for you."
I turned to her and she said, "Do you want me to help you get up?" as she approached, I remained silent, my mind in turmoil. She helped me up and supported me as we walked to the bathroom, which was just a few steps to the right. Inside, below the faucet, was a small plastic chair. She helped me sit and showed me the hot and cold water valves. I nodded to show I understood.
She turned to leave but hesitated at the door, her face turning red. "Do you need help changing your clothes?" she asked, clearly embarrassed.
I gave her a deadpan look, unsure of how to respond. Mistaking my silence, she stuttered, "I-It's not like I-I haven't seen you n-naked already. I've been cleaning your body for a while now. Her face turned a deep shade of red, looking like a tomato.
I stared at her for a moment before finally saying, "N-No! Thank you," waving my hand dismissively.
She quickly left, slamming the door behind her. Hearing her hurried footsteps, I sighed and began to undress for my shower.
After showering, I put on the clean pair of clothes she had left for me. I couldn't help but stare at my reflection in the mirror, still trying to process everything.
Aside from my slightly longer hair and younger-looking face, nothing else seemed different.
Feeling a bit of my strength returning, I walked out of the bathroom on my own, albeit with some difficulty. The girl rushed towards me before stopping with a stunned expression on her face. After a moment of awkward silence, I asked, "Uh, is there something on my face?" Snapping out of her daze, she shook her head and said, "S-Sorry, you can rely on me for support," as she moved to help me.
I tried to protest, "It's okay, I can walk by myse—" but she cut me off, insisting, "N-No, it's fine, you can rely on me."
Taken aback, I let her assist me. After she settled me onto the bed, she brought food and started feeding me by hand. Awkwardly, I said, "I can eat by myself." But she shook her head, saying, "I'll feed you because you're still sick," before pushing a spoonful of food into my mouth.
I looked at her, stupefied, before chewing and swallowing. This continued for about 30 minutes. Finally, after everything was done, I decided to address the situation. "Uh, Luna, can you now tell me what happened?"
She had introduced herself already hence how I knew the name Luna. She liked to talk a lot, despite her occasional stuttering.