ReLife Player

[ CARNATION ]

The memories of Parent’s Day were vague.

No, it could be said that there were none.

Before his regression, Eunha lost his family at the age of six.

He lost his parents before he had a chance to express his gratitude to them.

Five years of living like an autistic person after losing his family, and a life burned with hatred for monsters until the day he died.

«I’m sorry to say this, but I’m a little scared of him.»

«What is he thinking all day long? Every time I see him, he’s just staring up at the sky.»

«Eunha doesn’t seem to fit in well with the other kids at school.»

«Mom, I don’t feel good about him. I don’t like him.»

«Don’t be like that. Eunha is just…in pain.»

«…But still, isn’t it something to be grateful for that an old person is raising a child alone?»

«He ignores us even if we talk to him. He just keeps his mouth shut.»

«The kid is a little off.»

Grandma didn’t say anything. She took care of him until the day she closed her eyes, even when people around her were scared of him, and sometimes even said he was crazy.

Until now, Eunha had never expressed his gratitude to his grandmother for Parent’s Day.

When he was in elementary school, he used to make carnations out of colored paper as Parent’s Day approached.

Every time, Eunha could only stare at the red carnation paper. He didn’t know who he should fold the paper for.

But he had to make a carnation to finish the class. Every time, he would force himself to make a carnation and stuff it into his bag.

Eunha never gave the carnation to his grandmother.

He didn’t know how to express it in words.

He didn’t know what face he should make when giving it to her.

The moment I handed the carnation to my grandmother, it felt like something was coming to a complete end.

Did my grandmother understand my heart?

Of course she must have known. My grandmother could see through anything.

While organizing Eunha’s school bag when she returned home, my grandmother didn’t mention the carnation that was inside.

Instead, she hung the insignificant carnation on the shoe rack.

Next year. The year after that.

The hastily made carnation, as if pushed by something, was displayed somewhere in the house.

Was it a letter that came next?

In middle school, we were asked to write letters as Parent’s Day approached.

He couldn’t remember what he had conveyed to his grandmother.

The reason he couldn’t remember was probably because the content wasn’t worth remembering.

The only thing he remembers is tearing up the letter on the way back home.

Why did he do that back then?

Death allowed him to look back at himself objectively.

Living his second life, he evaluated his pre-regression self as young and ugly, and a coward.

A coward.

At the time, he thought he would let go of his longing for his family when he handed the carnation to his grandmother. He thought his hatred for monsters would be diluted when he gave her the letter.

Looking back, the carnation and the letter were just simple triggers.

They were nothing more than a catalyst for the young him to shed his longing for his family and live a new life free from the shackles of a wretched existence.

So his grandmother must have been waiting for him in silence.

Waiting for him to let go of his anger towards the world. Waiting for him to break free from all the restraints that bound him and live his own life.

But Eunha never conveyed any of his feelings to her until the day she passed away. Despite the path to happiness being right in front of him, he chose the path of unhappiness.

Until the end, he wondered what his grandmother thought of him.

Did she find him endearing, someone who could never break free from the death of his family?

He couldn’t know.

A parent’s heart is said to be like the ocean, and to him, his grandmother was such a presence.

He had a vague idea, but he didn’t want to make assumptions about his grandmother’s heart.

He who faced death only once and became free from everything has two things to say.

I am sorry for being an ungrateful child.

Thank you for raising me.

He regretted that he hadn’t said any of these things in over 32 years.

He wished he could have said it at least once in his life.

If only his grandmother had heard these words from him while she was still alive.

These were the only words he could say to his grandmother.

He was an ungrateful child who could not even complain if he went to hell.

So, in this life, he is determined to─

«I will fold a thousand cranes!»

«This idiot thinks a carnation is a branch!»

Sigh

─He is folding carnations. (E/N: Picture below!)

The children were still as noisy as ever.

☆

May was approaching. The time when he lost his family was coming.

Until now, Eunha had not dealt with it.

There were limits to moving with the body of a six-year-old child.

For example, he begged his mother to let him run errands alone.

And while he was buying things he was asked for at the store, he made a call to the Korea Mana Management Agency on a public phone.

«Hello?»

«Is this the Mana Management Agency?»

«Yes. How old are you, by any chance?»

«My age? I’m six years old.»

«Sigh Okay. So, why did you call us? This call is being recorded, so if you made this call as a prank, it could cause problems.»

«I didn’t make a prank call.»

«Okay, sorry. So, what can I do for you?»

«On May 4th, in the evening, there will be a large-scale monster outbreak on the Han River. Among the monsters that appear, there will be a Kraken causing massive casualties…»

«…Okay. Please don’t call us for this kind of thing. The police will come after you if you do. Can you hang up now?»

«No, what I said is not a lie…»

Frustrated, Eunha explained his story over the phone, but there was no one who would believe what a child said.

In the end, all he heard was the beeping sound of a disconnected call.

Why don’t I just say that I’ve regressed?»

He thought about it, for a moment.

But who would believe a child’s story as soon as he called the Mana Management Agency?

In the end, the best he could do was save his mana for the worst.

He despaired when he realized that after six years of desperate saving, he hadn’t even scratched the surface of what Euna had accumulated.

Having buried his bones for so long in the world of players, he knew that effort would not overcome talent.

But when he realized firsthand that six years of hard work hadn’t helped, he couldn’t help but feel frustrated.

In the meantime, time passed.

Kindergarten was quiet.

He spent his days reading alone or sleeping in the corner.

Eunhyuk, who was leading the bullying, would come over and try to harass him in any way possible.

It’s childish, but I like it.

Being bullied by snotty kids didn’t kill him.

Rather, he stayed away and ignored the kids who eyed him.

It wasn’t that all the kids didn’t approach him.

The kids in his neighborhood would call him out if he tried to do anything.

Even when he told them he didn’t want to play, they seemed to get used to it.

What about the girls?

After that day, the girls couldn’t ignore Eunha, who was left alone.

Behind the scenes, the girls treated him kindly, sometimes to the point of being over the top, which made him scratch his head.

Whatever.

Under such circumstances, there was no way Eunhyeok would stand idly by, and his sneaky harassment of Eunha increased with each passing day.

Of course, Eunha wasn’t one to stand idly by. That kid had been looking at the wrong person for a long time.

A tooth for a tooth, an eye for an eye.

You get what you deserve.

Eunha’s rule was not to underestimate kids.

How tearful Eunhyuk and his followers, Ma Bangjin and Yeon Seongjin, were when they tried to bully him and got hit back.

In a man’s world, the unspoken rule was that if you show tears, you lose.

That day, they lost to Eunha in front of the children.

«Why are you being so petty?»

«You’re the one who started it.»

«You’re cowardly.»

«That’s right, I’m cowardly. I’m petty!»

«So what? You want to keep going? Should I make you piss your pants this time?»

This was the same man who had captured and tortured his former enemies before his regression. He knew where to attack and where to provoke.

That day, the children had to suffer through his torture. By the end, Eunhyeok was in tears, snotty, and saying he had done wrong.

Afterward, Eunhyeok’s pride was greatly bruised, and the bullying became much less frequent.

On the contrary, other children flocked to him with interest.

By the time he realized it, there were three groups of kids in the class: one for Minji, one for Eunhyeok, and a mixed group for Eunha.

It was truly a nationwide competition.

The kids would jokingly talk about who would take over the Evergreen Pine class.

No, it’s not necessary. Please leave me alone.

That was the result.

«Sigh… There’s no time to rest, no time.»

Today was carnation making day. The children were making carnations the way Mr. Tayo had taught them.

The question was who would sit next to Eunha.

«Eunha, sit with me.»

‘I’m going to sit next to Eunha, everyone else go away.»

«Come on. I’m the one who’s closest to him.»

«Oh, come on, I’m best friends with Eunha, too.»

«Come on. Eunha, who do you want to sit with?»

No, I want to sit alone, please go away.

The moment Eunha sat down at the round table without thinking, a war broke out.

The kids started fussing and demanding to sit at his table too.

Haaa, I want to go home.

If Minji hadn’t sat next to him, there would have been bloodshed.

But don’t snub me for owing you, Minji!

«Is this how you fold it?»

«Give it to me, you munchkin (gluton). Your teacher told you to fold it like this!»

«I’m not a munchkin!»

«Yes, munchkin~»

«Are you serious!»

Minji was not very dexterous. Even with Mr. Tayo’s intensive instruction, she could only mimic it sloppily.

She wasn’t the only one. The other kids too.

They would call out to Mr. Tayo at every opportunity, and the results of their fern-like hands were disastrous.

You can’t expect much from a six-year-old.

Haa, I can’t help it.

If they kept calling Mr. Tayo, they wouldn’t be able to finish in time. Even though it was annoying, Eunha decided to help the children who couldn’t fold the carnations.

This isn’t his first time making carnations.

Even before his regression, he had folded carnations every year until he reached middle school. It wasn’t hard to make them after seeing the sample, even though he couldn’t remember.

He had once received a carnation from Baekryeon

It was when he was being mocked by the players as the «Little Princess’s Fool».

He had just come in from killing players who had ambushed him from behind and was busy cleaning up the smell of blood.

Even though he was called crazy, he had to wipe the blood off his body for the sake of Baekryeon, who was still in elementary school.

If he got caught, Yoojung would scold him.

After a quick shower, he decided to eat some ramen to satisfy his hunger.

And just as he was about to dump the noodles into the boiling water, Baekryeon came home from school and tugged at his clothes.

‘Uncle Eunha. Uh mm, thank you for taking care of me.’

Baekryeon held out the carnation in a mosquito-like voice.

‘…Uh, yeah.’

‘…I’m good at making them, right?’

‘…Yes. …Thank you.’

‘Mom really liked my carnations, too.’

When she handed him the carnation, Baekryeon cried a little.

He could see how she must have felt to make the carnations at school, and how she must have felt to come home with them.

Because he had been there, too.

But he didn’t know how to comfort her crying.

Comfort was out of his specialty. Killing, maybe.

It was all he could do then,

‘…Would you like some ramen? It’s Parent’s Day, so let’s have ramen.’

He was boiling ramen for her.

‘Uh…what’s that?…Just give me the ramen. Cut some green onions on top.’ (E/N: Picture below!)

‘You want a lot of things. Sit down. I’ll make it quickly so you can take it with you. Do you want an egg?’

‘Yes, please put an egg in it! And…I want to eat rice too! And kimchi!’

Without realizing it, she stopped crying and was humming a tune while waiting for him to finish boiling the ramen.

Thinking back on it now, it was a heartwarming feeling that naturally came to mind.

I wonder if it would have been like this if he had a daughter.

It wasn’t a bad feeling.

So he secretly looked forward to the day she would give him a carnation every year.

They were looking forward to the day when they could cook ramen together.

But at some point, she stopped giving him carnations.

(1) Carnations!

Super cute right?

(2) Ramen! (I’m hungry…again…)