Flowers Are Bait

From that moment, Lee-yeon couldn’t look away from Kwon Chae-woo and his cello. All the emotional barriers she had put up started crumbling as he played a torrent of notes.

Was he really the same guy who’d break someone’s joints and attak them from behind? He effortlessly switched techniques, playing the piece with spontaneity.

It was like the sound of a kid scratching a wall, a scar on a boy’s back, hands chasing him and his mother.. Four strings, four beats, four sounds—his music told a harsh story.

As Kwon Chae-woo continued, the piece felt even more intense than the previous one. He seemed like a different kind of monster.

His head occasionally jerked sharply, like a blind beast following a scent. Lee-yeon found herself taking steps backward, overwhelmed by the charisma of his music.

This wasn’t the guy she knew. His soaked shirt clung to him, becoming semi-transparent. Raindrops fell from his swaying hair. Lee-yeon’s entire body heated up.

The cello absorbed moisture from the rain, but Kwon Chae-woo incorporated the sound of cracking into the melody. It added a eerie tone, skillfully twisted to create a poignant appeal.

Though Lee-yeon wasn’t a music expert, she could sense his extraordinary talent. As he played faster, it felt like layers of her being were peeling off.

When the vibrato reached its climax, Kwon Chae-woo abruptly stopped playing.

Kwon Chae-woo embraced the cello like he collapsed, tears streaming down his face.

The sound of suppressed crying, “ugh, ugh,” resonated like pain. He coughed violently, exhaling the breath he had held.

“Ugh… huh, kkk…”

“….!”

Lee-yeon was frozen, facing the tears of a man she had just met.

“If you’re here, Lee-yeon, even broken sounds become music.”

He raised his tear-stained eyes. More emotions were conveyed in that one gaze than in the harsh, poignant melody.

“I have nothing more to show you now.”

He embraced the cello again, lowering his head.

What should I do with this man?

Though Lee-yeon couldn’t fully grasp his feelings, she knew he had gone to great lengths to retrieve something he had once abandoned.

From the boy who sent the cello on the wind to the cruel man burying people, Kwon Chae-woo might have had to retrace and overturn his path to rediscover the lost music.

Sympathy, tenderness toward Kwon Chae-woo, and a new kind of excitement sprouted within Lee-yeon. She finally felt like she glimpsed his true self.

He wasn’t the darkness of the Kwon family, but a person who deserved a spotlight.

With an indescribable sense of regret, Lee-yeon bit her lower lip. At that moment, he shed tears, looking straight at her.

When their gazes met again, Lee-yeon’s heart ached.

“There’s a more than 500-year-old ancient instrument in a foreign villa.”

“….”

“Bring that cello here, and I’ll become Hwaido’s family tree instead. I’ll stand in the place of the sacred tree and play the ancient music. Until I die, until I become the legacy of that island.”

Lee-yeon felt one side of her head getting heavy.

Kwon Chae-woo, having finally found his answer, broke down the last fortress that Lee-yeon had proudly presented.

Lee-yeon looked up at him in the rain, her face pale. She took slow steps towards him.

“…Even so, you still hate me?”

She mumbled the last words almost to herself.

“I love you, Lee-yeon.”

“…!”

She stopped and froze, her heart pounding. Kwon Chae-woo, with teary but fierce eyes, stared at her intensely.

The rain was gradually letting up. In an odd clarity, the raindrops mingled with his tears. Realizing this, she helplessly tossed away the umbrella she held.

“Let’s go to Hwaido together.”

For the first time, Lee-yeon stepped into the house of the young boy she had never visited before. The boy, who had been scratching the wall in madness, was captivated by the sunlight that drove away the darkness.

The marks he had scratched with his nails were grotesque, but as soon as the wall was bathed in light, it sparkled like a galaxy. Lee-yeon reached out her hand.

“Let’s leave this place together.”

Caught up in the rising madness, Kwon Chae-woo missed his chance to respond to the overwhelming sorrow. Lee-yeon carefully put away the cello and sat on his thigh.

Realizing that this was some form of consent, Kwon Chae-woo embraced her with desperation. He shivered as if sobbing. Lee-yeon, her eyes turning red as well, gazed up at the sky.

“Let’s find happiness, as if to show off.”

“….”

“…Yeah, let’s do that. Let’s not be afraid of anything.”

Lee-yeon kissed his forehead.

More frightening than the determination to live alone was the fear of stepping into the whirlwind of emotions again, knowing she would face similar wounds.

Lee-yeon had pledged her love for him and her life in front of the grave, but it seemed she couldn’t leave Kwon Chae-woo behind.

If that’s the case, she’ll take him along.

Chaconne is a song of death and resurrection.

New shoots sprouted from his grave, and Lee-yeon’s heart began to beat violently. She embraced the sobbing man with all her strength.