Devil’s Music

Geon sat on the bench, making eye contact with Mijin who was looking up at him, and cautiously greeted her.

"Hello, Ms. Kim Mijin."

Mijin did not respond, just continued looking at Geon. At a loss for what to say, Geon just stood silently until the nurse behind Mijin suggested a seat next to her.

"Take a seat and talk slowly."

The nurse moved a bit away from the two as she led Geon to Lisa's side. Geon, who had never spoken to Mijin before, reopened the conversation with an awkward expression.

"How have you been these days?"

Mijin still said nothing, just stared intently at Geon. Feeling awkward under her gaze, Geon turned his head away.

An uncomfortable silence lingered between them for a while. With Mijin just silently watching him, Geon, who was sitting on the bench, recalled her old appearance he had seen in Chicago.

A mother, stricken with the grief of losing her daughter, was endlessly crying and pounding on her chest where her child had died.

Just recalling that scene made Geon's eyes tear up. He was about to ask about her daughter but then thought better of it, realizing there was no need to stir up emotions in her now that she had just stopped crying.

The summer sun was blazing hot, and Geon, thinking it wasn’t good for her health to keep sitting outside for long, stood up and said,

"It's too hot, isn’t it? Shall we go inside?"

He wanted to offer his hand to help her up, but fearing she might reject his touch, Geon just looked down at her instead.

As Geon watched her, Mijin's parched lips slowly began to part, and a raspy voice emerged.

“I remember…”

Startled by her sudden words, the nurse rushed over, but Lisa gestured for her to be quiet by placing a finger on her lips.

“Shh, just watch. There’s a story between them.”

Taken aback, Geon composed himself and calmly asked,

“What do you remember?”

Slowly raising her hand, Mijin pointed at Geon.

“You. I remember you.”

Looking at the finger pointing at him, Geon asked,

“Do you remember me?”

Mijin nodded faintly and spoke again.

"Sikago, I remember seeing you there."

Geon, grateful that Mijin remembered him, smiled gently.

“I remember you too.”

After a brief conversation, Mijin fell silent again. Geon, hoping to continue their dialogue, waited for a while but eventually reached out towards the ward as he could no longer stand the silence.

"It's very hot, Ms. Mijin, it's not good for your health, let’s go inside."

Perhaps because they had talked briefly, Geon found the courage to reach out his hand to her. Mijin, still intensely looking at Geon’s offered hand, looked up at him again.

"That’s what you said then, right?"

“Yes?”

Mijin, with unfocused eyes, tried to recall,

“Better to cry out loud…”

Geon’s eyes widened. Seeing that Mijin remembered his muttered words from afar, he sat down next to her again and asked,

“How could you see that from so far away?”

Mijin slowly shook her head.

“I don’t remember how I saw it. But I remember that the song you sang then comforted me. After crying out loud as you suggested, it felt a bit better.”

Hearing the longest conversation they had had since starting to talk, Geon nodded, encouraging her to keep talking as he knew that normal conversation could help her condition improve.

“That’s good to hear, I’m glad it comforted you. But it seems it hasn't gotten much better.”

Mijin looked down slightly at Geon’s words. Geon firmly grasped her silent shoulders and said,

“It’s not good to hide your feelings, you know that, Ms. Mijin? Men typically live shorter than women because men often have to hide their emotions due to their social status. It’s said that the emotions they withhold shorten their lifespans. Say what you want to say, cry when you want to cry, and don’t hold back your laughter because of guilt.”

Mijin looked intently back at Geon, taking his hand in silence. Geon looked up at the sky and said,

“Just say what you want to say most right now, do what you want to do most right now.”

Mijin followed Geon’s gaze into the sky. The sun was partially obscured by clouds, allowing them to look at the blue sky without squinting. Geon turned to Mijin with a smile.

“What do you most want to say right now?”

Mijin's eyes, looking as if they were seeing someone in the sky, were filled with sorrow. Her cheeks twitched as if her lips were cr

amping, and she spoke in a barely audible, breathy voice.

“Haeun, isn’t it time for school? Get up.”

Geon's smiling face twisted. What she wanted was an ordinary conversation with her daughter, a simple everyday talk that was now the thing she most wanted to say.

Thinking that no words could comfort her, Geon opened his mouth after a long silence,

“What do you most want to do?”

Expecting her to talk about spending time with her daughter or recalling memories, Mijin surprised Geon with her unexpected response.

“I want to sleep. While listening to that music I hear every day.”

Geon, looking blankly at Mijin, slowly smiled as he turned his head towards Lisa, nodding. Mijin's nurse quickly came over and helped Mijin up. As Geon stood up, Lisa whispered quietly,

“It’s almost time for music therapy. Would you like to see it before you go?”

Geon silently nodded as he watched Mijin being supported as they walked ahead.

Upon arriving at room 403 with Lisa, Geon opened the door with a bright expression, then his face turned to surprise.

The four patients in the room, usually restless and unable to concentrate, now all lay under blankets in their beds, quietly waiting for something. Seeing Geon’s expression, Lisa whispered,

“They know it’s music therapy time. Courtney especially shows the highest efficiency. Her aggressive tendencies have completely disappeared, and while she can’t converse normally, she understands and responds to what we say. Considering her condition a few months ago, it’s almost a miracle.”

A few moments later, the sound of water music, not from the small Bluetooth speaker but from the ward's main speakers, began to fill the room. Watching the patients close their eyes with pleasant expressions, Lisa whispered to Geon,

“Most of them fall asleep during this time.”

Geon watched the patients rubbing their faces against the pillows, their eyes closed, and then left the room, not wanting to disturb their rest.

Silently observing the psychiatric ward, Geon noticed the other rooms. The usually noisy psychiatric ward was now silent except for the music.

Most of the patients seemed to be trying to sleep as they listened to the music at a lower volume, while others sat on their beds, looking out the window.

Grateful to see people enjoying his music, Geon was approached by Larry, who smiled and offered a handshake.

“Kay, you’re here.”

“Hello, teacher.”

“Ha, thanks to Kay’s permission, we are conducting research involving all the patients in the psychiatric ward.”

“Has there been any progress?”

“Hmm… shall we walk for a bit?”

Leading Geon along the ward's corridor, checking on the patients, Larry began to speak,

“We are seeing definite effects on schizophrenia, depression, and insomnia. Interestingly, the progression of encephalitis in patients seems to be slowing down, and the pain that should be severe is also being alleviated. Due to this, Director Murphy is preparing to report to the academic community.”

Geon brightened up and asked,

“The progression of the disease is slowing down?”

Larry smiled, picking up a chart,

“Yes, unfortunately, it’s not a cure. It just slows down the progression.”

Seeing Geon's saddened expression, Larry added,

“That alone is a remarkable discovery, and your help is providing hope to patients desperately looking forward to tomorrow.”

Geon weakly smiled and said,

“It’s just hope, which could lead to greater disappointment later.”

“Ha, they are aware of their illness and know that it is incurable with modern medicine. But they want to live even a single day longer, to complete their unfinished lives. You have given them the most precious gift of time.”

Larry's words seemed to lift Geon’s spirits a bit as he continued to observe the ward, still filled with the sound of music. At the end of the corridor, outside the door leading to the external staircase, Geon saw a man standing and looking inside. Narrowing his eyes, he brightened up and hurriedly walked over, opening the door and calling out joyfully,

“Sion!! What brings you here?”

Standing outside, continuing down the external staircase, Sion, carrying a bag with art supplies, laughed,

“Ha, to see you here again.”

“Indeed! You’ve been a great help, Sion. If you have time, I’d like to treat you to a meal, how about it?”

After a quick glance at his watch, Sion nodded,

“That would be good now. I’m quite hungry, ha.”

Grateful for the invaluable advice Sion had given him, Geon, with a look full of gratitude and friendliness, took hold of Sion’s shoulder and said,

“I’ll treat you to something expensive and delicious, let's go! Ha.”

As Sion and Geon laughed and walked out of the hospital, on the hospital rooftop, a blond youth named Paimon cracked his knuckles and gritted his teeth.

“Gusion… grind. If even a fingertip of that child is harmed, your filthy life is over!”

>

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