Saō Hyun did not know whether he was still alive
or already dead.
All he could feel… was pain.
His body lay stretched at the bottom of the ravine, on hard, icy ground, as if the earth itself were rejecting him. His eyes were half-open, staring at a distorted sky that moved slowly—far away… unbearably far.
He tried to move his leg.
It did not move.
He tried again.
A sharp pain tore through his body, and he shuddered.
He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out.
Why?
Why can't I scream?
His breathing was shallow, broken, and his chest ached as if something were crushing him from within.
He closed his eyes.
Then—
He heard it.
A faint rustling, sliding across the ground.
His eyes snapped open.
His body froze.
His heart began to pound violently.
No…
No…
He knew that sound.
Even children know it.
A snake.
His body started to tremble.
He tried to move, pressed his hands into the ground, dragged himself a little—but pain exploded from his broken leg.
He screamed.
A short, weak scream.
Then he began to cry.
The crying of a small child—terrified, helpless.
"No… I don't want to…"
His voice came out broken, barely audible.
"Please… don't come closer…"
But the rustling did not stop.
It came closer.
Closer.
Closer.
Tears streamed down his cheeks.
"Mama…"
The word escaped him without thought.
"I'm scared…"
His sobs grew heavier.
"I'm small…"
He cried as he never had before.
"I didn't do anything… I didn't do anything bad…"
Something cold brushed against his hand.
He froze.
He opened his mouth to scream—
—
The bite.
—
Pain exploded in his hand, as if fire had ignited inside his veins.
He screamed.
A true child's scream—raw, powerless, unrestrained.
"Aaaaaah!"
He began to cry loudly.
"It hurts! It hurts so much!"
His body shook violently.
"Stop! Please, stop!"
But the pain only grew worse.
His hand began to go numb.
His fingers would not move.
The world started to spin.
His breathing slowed.
"I… I'm tired…"
he said through tears.
"I want to sleep…"
His eyes began to close.
Then—
Something changed.
The pain did not disappear.
But it was no longer the same.
It became different.
Like a warm fire spreading through his body.
His heart began to beat harder.
Harder than it ever had before.
He opened his eyes.
Looked at the snake.
It was close.
Very close.
He cried again, but his voice was weaker now.
"Why… why are you biting me?"
Then he whispered, in the voice of a child who did not understand the world:
"I don't have anyone…"
He stretched out his trembling hand.
Grabbed the snake.
He screamed in pain.
But his hand did not let go.
"Bite me…"
he said, crying.
"Don't stop…"
He pulled it closer.
The second bite was worse.
He screamed.
He cried.
But his body… moved.
Sensation slowly returned.
The pain grew stronger—but with it came a small strength.
Weak.
But real.
He dragged himself along the ground.
Fell.
Tried again.
Fell once more.
He cried.
"I can't…"
Then he stopped.
Took a trembling breath.
And rose onto one knee.
He dragged his broken leg.
Every step was agony.
"I… don't want to die…"
he whispered, his voice cracked and faint.
"Even if everyone hates me…"
He lifted his head.
Looked into the darkness—
with swollen eyes, red from crying.
"I will live."
And he moved.
A small child,
crying,
with a poisoned body,
and a heart that had begun to change
without understanding why.