The teacher spoke to him then. "This will be your room from now on, and you'll be sharing it with a friend. You're both the same age, so I'm sure you'll get along just fine, yes?"
The boy turned to look at her, taking in her appearance. She had brown hair, with thin, but dark eyebrows, and her eyes were round like a puppy's, which gave her a gentle look. The boy had no way of knowing that she had actually applied some light makeup, and to him, she just seemed like a young, pretty woman with skin clearer than his own little brother's, who was a baby. He was suddenly reminded of his mother's dry, rough skin, and his heart filled with sorrow. "Yes…" He answered after some hesitation, forcing the negative thoughts aside. "Good, good. So just wait here for…Or no…Actually, it's almost time for lunch, so how about you come with me to the cafeteria? We can eat together."
The teacher proceeded to take the boy outside, all the way to a single-story building behind the inst.i.tute. It was quite s.p.a.cious inside, filled with tables and chairs, and many of the children were already seated. The teacher and the boy took their place at the back of the line, which stretched along the wall. After filling their trays with food, they took their seats and began eating. She explained various things to him, though his lack of grat.i.tude (or any emotion, for that matter) made her feel less and less motivated to do so. However, such behavior wasn't particularly uncommon, so it didn't really pose a problem for her. Indeed, the problem wasn't something as trivial as facial expressions. She worried instead that he wouldn't be able to fit in due to his overly cautious movements and overall gloomy demeanor. Even now, he carefully tasted each food item on his tray while intently watching the surroundings, which only increased her worries. Though the chairman had warned her about this, she couldn't help but feel that his abuse had been worse than any of them had imagined.
Despite the teacher's concern, the boy's emotions were constantly shifting from amazement to bewilderment. Because he had no knowledge of what a 'cafeteria' was, disorientation had clutched at his guts as soon as he had walked into the building, and the very air, oversaturated with the smell of food, had made him nauseous. He had received his food in a tray, and after carefully tasting each item, the boy had wondered whether this was the so-called 'heaven.' His sense of taste had already received a huge shock from the juice earlier, which had almost sent him into a sort of trance. Now, there was an unbelievable amount of food in front of him, with so much variation and almost too many colors and scents and tastes for him to process.
The boy wondered whether this was how the rich lords and ladies in the big cities ate and felt as though he should mind his table manners, eating slowly and making sure to properly taste everything. Yet, as he looked around, he saw that the other children didn't seem to follow specific protocols or etiquette. Rather, they all seemed busy stuffing their faces, shoveling food into their mouths with their spoons. This in turn made the boy a.s.sume that there was a time limit in place. This theory was quickly disproved when he noticed other children eating leisurely, talking and laughing among themselves while the adults gently patted their backs, telling them to take their time.
All in all, the children looked very happy while eating. Watching them talk to each other and play around almost made the boy want to cry. Though he had not lived long, the life he had led felt somewhat bleak. He remembered how he had to share a bowl of stew with his brother due to the lack of food, or how he had to make sure to fill his sack to the brim out of fear that they would starve the next day, and these memories only made him tear up more.
"What's wrong? No appet.i.te?" The teacher was openly concerned now, looking at the boy from across the table. The boy shook his head, and once again began to eat the clear soup in front of him, though he couldn't stop the stinging in his nose.
Meanwhile, the chairman was sitting in his office, joined by the director of administration and the executive secretary. They had gathered for talks after their meals, and the chairman spoke first. "The new boy," he started, sipping his coffee, "seems to have endured psychological abuse, and I'm worried he might not be able to fit in with the other children. I must ask that you take special care in security."
The director of administration, a thin man with thin eyes, took off his gla.s.ses and a.n.a.lyzed the lenses as he spoke. "That's a matter for the head of security. Mr. Kim has a very strong sense of responsibility, so you needn't worry, Chairman."
"Ahem. Yes, I'm well aware of that. But if there is anything that must be improved, please let me know. On top of that, the boy's going to be eight next year, so he'll have to go to school. There's only a few months left, and the paperwork alone will be a lot to handle."
The director put his gla.s.ses back on and lifted his coffee cup.
"I'll take good care of that as well. My, with so many things to think about, Chairman, I worry that the stress will cause you to lose too much weight."
"Hahaha, yes, there are many things I have to take care of. It's been a while since we've had a newcomer, after all."
Even as he spoke, the chairman glared at the chief's thin eyes for a moment before adverting his own towards his coffee cup.
Until now, the Anes Inst.i.tute was among the best rated inst.i.tutions in the region, partly because the chairman had put great effort into its management, and partly because he was close to the Welfare Foundation's Board of Directors, thus ensuring few, if any, issues. The inst.i.tute was also a popular volunteering spot, attracting students from even nearby regions to come and fill their mandatory service hours. However, the decrease in children's admittance rates over time caused a drop in donations, and the hardships of the domestic economy led to a decline of the foundation's funds. All in all, the chairman really did have much to worry about.
To add to this, the director of administration, who had become a board member at the recommendation of another director, tended to take jabs at people while speaking, which made the chairman that much more reluctant to talk to him. Perhaps the chief was too confident of his supporters at the foundation, but it was as if he regarded chairmanship as a lesser occupation. The chairman silently vowed to himself that he would replace the director of administration with someone else, no matter what it took.
Just then, the executive secretary, who had been quietly enjoying his coffee, broke his silence. "The children's 'Stepping Stone' accounts need organizing, as well. They've…acc.u.mulated some dirt over time."
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Stepping Stone accounts were back accounts created to help children become independent after leaving the inst.i.tute. The money for the accounts came from donations, and the children could withdraw from these accounts freely should they wish to. The bank account for the donations was especially vulnerable to audits, since large sums of money were moved around, but even the small transactions for the Stepping Stone accounts needed prudent care. They were a lower priority for auditors compared to the donations account, and since the inst.i.tute took no responsibility for the money once the accounts were in the children's hands, they could be used in many ways without arousing suspicion.
"It's almost the end of the year, so it was about time we cleared things up over there. I trust that you will take care of things, executive secretary"
The executive secretary was a short man, but he was well-built, perhaps owing to strict self-care, and he was the only one whom the chairman felt comfortable speaking to. He didn't say much and wasn't particularly eloquent, instead choosing his words carefully and saying only what needed to be said. For example, he reminded the chairman to prepare for the end of the year audits, or to choose a company for interior design and maintenance. In short, the fact that he took care of such small, yet important matters made the executive secretary seem very trustworthy and likeable.
On the other hand, the director of administration disliked them both. They put up airs and pretended to be so prim and proper, but he knew that on the inside, they were no different from him. Yet here they were, chatting and laughing away, the hypocrites. They were openly ignoring him and excluding him from the conversation because he wasn't part of their inner circle, which only added to the list of the many reasons he felt uncomfortable. As such, the director also took the liberty of glaring at the other two men whenever he got the chance. If only he could get these two replaced, then both his and his circle's pockets would become quite full.
While the three men spent their time judging and ignoring each other, and tensions arose in the chairman's office, the boy had finished his meal, and was making his way to his newly designated room. Only once he sat on his bed, alone in the room, did he relax enough to let out a long sigh. Since early morning, he had been dragged around by adults, not knowing what was happening, and his psyche nearly broke to pieces trying to process all the oddities of this foreign world. Now, he finally had the time to take care of himself.
Though in truth, there wasn't much to take care of in the first place. He had ended up here with just the clothes on his back, and even those had been replaced with fresh new clothes, meaning he really didn't have anything of his own. Nothing but the pendant on his neck.
Looking at the pendant only made the boy feel even more restless. How could something from a dream end up on his neck? He took the curious little thing in his hands, and somehow, he felt as if there was a warmth emanating from it.
