As days turned into months, and months into years, my grandpa's health deteriorated. Eventually, he was admitted to the hospital.
The moment he was admitted, I sensed something shift in my father. He remained as stoic as ever, his posture rigid, his voice unchanged, but his eyes were different. They looked… satisfied. As if he had gained something he had been waiting for.
Months passed.
Then I heard my mom was pregnant again.
Up until then, it was the happiest day of my life.
I giggled the entire day. For the first time ever, I skipped my tutoring and stayed beside my mom, asking her endless questions about my future sibling. What would they like, what would they eat, would they cry a lot, would they sleep with me. I couldn't stop.
From that day on, I started noticing babies everywhere. In parks, in hospitals, in strangers' arms. I played with them whenever I could, tried to hold them, imagined what my baby brother or sister would look like. I promised myself I would be the best sister. Nothing less was acceptable.
A few weeks later, Mom took me with her to the hospital.
The doctor said it was a girl.
I was overjoyed. I ran around the waiting area, pointing out every baby girl I could find. I kept asking Mom, will she be cuter than her, will she smile better, will her laugh sound like this. I couldn't stop imagining her.
What I didn't realize was that the man who once tried to abandon me for being a girl would react the same way again.
My mom realized it. She tried to hide it for as long as she could.
My father was smarter.
He came to me directly. His trusted source.
Even though something felt wrong in the way he asked, I still told him the truth.
What followed was horrible.
My mom cried. She pleaded. She begged him to stop but the beast didn't listen.
He took her to his doctor friend and aborted the child.
If I had been given the chance, I would have burned him alive.
But I was too scared of him to do anything.
So instead, I did something that was equivalent to that for him."
She turned her face toward the waves, watching the rising waves she continued, "In fourth grade, I was selected as a finalist for a national contest. My dad wanted me to win, and he tutored me for an entire month.
On the day of the contest, they called us onto the stage. The host explained the rules. We had to pick a random prompt and speak about it for at least two minutes. First place got a huge scholarship. Second place got a luxury vacation.
My dad was already smiling when he heard the rules, like he knew I would win. It pissed me off. I didn't want to win. But no matter how angry I was, the mindset he had drilled into me for years wouldn't let me fail.
So I picked my prompt. Read the word aloud.
The judges started the clock.
I did nothing.
I just stood there, completely still, staring into empty space."
The corner of her mouth lifted. "The timer rang.
Silence.
The judges were confused. The audience didn't know what was happening. Finally, the host walked up to me.
That's when I started speaking."
Her eyes sharpened, pride flickering through them. "It was one of the best speeches I've ever given. When I finished, everyone was impressed. The judges said I would have easily won if I had followed the rules.
The host asked why I didn't start when the timer began.
That was the first time I smiled in front of my dad. I looked straight at him, and it felt very good.
I told them I wanted second place. That I wanted the vacation more than the scholarship. So I aimed for second.
I have never seen him that angry. His fists curled so tight they shook. His eyes looked like they could melt stone.
It wasn't just me who felt it. People around him felt it too.
As soon as we reached home, for the first time in my life, my dad raised his hand to hit me.
And it was also the first time I raised my voice against him.
I shouted, 'I'm still at the top.'
He froze.
I continued. 'You said rewards don't matter. Only being at the top matters. The judges agreed I won. The audience agreed I won. And we both know I won.'
That's when he lost his mind. He destroyed everything in the house in rage.
But he never dared lay a finger on me.
That was the last time either of us spoke to each other.
We lived in the same house for six more years, but we existed like strangers passing through shared walls. After that day, he tried small ways to vent his anger. He stopped my pocket money. He made my mom cook the food he knew I hated. He enforced strict, unnecessary rules around the house. Petty things, meant only to make him feel like he had won something.
A year passed like that.
Then he delivered what he thought was the final blow.
He changed my school.
Strangely enough, that was the best thing he ever did for me. The only sliver of gratitude I have for him exists for that single reason.
Changing schools was hard at first, exactly as he hoped it would be. I lost all my friends. I lost the small world I had built around myself. But it didn't take long.
Within a month, I blended in.
I found people who talked to me, friends who played with me, teachers who adored me. I aced everything again, every test, every competition. Soon, people were looking up to me. Teachers admired me. I became the idol of the class and then the school.
As I rebuilt my world, I heard about him for the first time.
Someone had topped the exams.
And I was second.
It was the first time I hadn't been at the top.
I hated it, and everyone around me could feel it. I wanted to crush the person who beat me, but before that, I wanted to know how he did it.
That was when I heard about him.
A silent, strange kid from another class. No friends. No presence. Apparently, not even his own classmates really knew him. He was so invisible that most people didn't even realize he existed.
At first, I thought they were exaggerating.
They weren't and it was the truth.
But before I could ever meet him, a rumor reached me. He had cheated on the exams, and the teachers had confirmed it.
I lost all interest instantly.
As much as I hated losing, I hated people who couldn't play fair even more. I wished I would never meet him.
Luck was on my side and the wish didn't come true.
A year later, it was just another day. Another national competition I had entered. Another victory waiting for me.
I stepped onto the stage with more than two thousand students in the audience and rows of adults judging every word. As soon as I began speaking, something pierced straight through my chest.
It felt like someone had tugged at my heart.
Out of two thousand pairs of eyes, one pair stood out painfully, and without realizing it, my gaze drifted toward them.
That was when I saw him.
He didn't look special. Just another ordinary kid, watching me like hundreds of others. But his eyes were different. They weren't admiring me.
They were asking me something.
"Will you be with me?"
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop looking at him. I stumbled over my words. I stuttered. Even after my speech ended, my eyes kept searching for him.
For the first time after winning, I felt no satisfaction.
Instead, I felt anxious.
I wanted to meet him. I wanted to answer the question he never asked aloud. And somehow, without knowing why, the answer had already settled inside me.
"Yes".
Even as a stranger, I knew I would never say no.
After the contest ended, I searched for him everywhere. The corridors. The balconies. The classrooms.
He was nowhere.
Then I returned to the hall.
It was empty, only a few lights left on, bright enough to illuminate the stage.
He stood there, alone, holding a microphone.
Our eyes met.
He spoke.
The words weren't grand. They weren't dramatic.
"I'm Ajin."
Hearing that felt like something inside me, something I hadn't even realized was missing, finally became whole. My heart filled with a strange, unfamiliar happiness.
Then he smiled.
And my world stopped.
If his eyes were cold and sharp, as if nothing could escape them, his voice was commanding, as though the world itself would bend to his will. His smile belonged to a predator, confident, absolute, carrying the certainty that the world was his and nothing stood above him.
I froze.
As he walked out of the hall, my legs refused to move. I stood there long after he was gone, unable to take a single step, as if that moment had carved itself into me forever.