Per Confucius: "Virtue is not solitary; it must have neighbors."

The yellow flowers of the gaenari swayed in the faintly-hazy blue sky. The flowers' meaning was said to be to bid farewell to those about to embark on a journey; however, today, even that much felt somehow hollow and superficial.

"Hajun-bocchama, I do hope that you stay well and take care."

"Yes. I'll never see you again."

He had firmly refused to be seen off at the airport. The last sight that Chungsung would be permitted to imprint upon his memory was that of Hajun's back as he passed through the gates of the property would be.

Baek Chungsung, twenty years old. Yeon Hajun, thirteen. It was around the time of early spring.

"I suppose... one could call this the ultimate form of neglect play^[1], no? Hehehe."

"Stop muttering and saying creepy things."

As he turned around to look at Chungsung, Hajun's freezing-cold gaze pierced right through him. His eyes were, beyond a doubt, those of a ruler. That cold light that dwelled within the blood of the Yeon family. For Chungsung, that light was a comfort; and yet a moment later, it was cast instead towards the far side of the gates.

"How," Hajun said, "can you even act as though this is 'neglect play'? You're the one who's abandoning me, aren't you?"

"By no means. I am simply--"

"Obeying your master's orders, right? Alright. Got it. In the end... the one you've been serving hasn't been me at all, but instead, the Yeon family."

Chungsung could find no words to respond to that. It was, after all, true.

On this day, Yeon Hajun would depart for Japan, where he would be "studying abroad". It was perhaps fair, however, to say that he and the problems that accompanied him were being brushed under the rug.

Hajun had gone to to gruelling, painstaking extents in his dedication to become heir of the Yeon family. Despite being met with cold reception as the bastard child of a mistress, he had strived to prove his own worth. But when the legitimate Mrs. Yeon gave birth to their first child, all of Hajun's effort amounted to nought. All of the parental love and the expectations from those around him were at once put upon the "legitimate wife's child" instead of him. Though he continued to put up a respectable fight for some years, he could not overcome the power of blood lineage. It was a problem of love; put another way, a problem of emotion. Just as Hajun had said, Chungsung served the Yeon family above all else, and he had no way of swaying the master's mind.

Hajun did not look back again. His final words to the man who had taken care of him came as he faced away.

"Be my guest; wag your tail as much as you want. But do it for 'the heir of the Yeon family', not for me."

Chungsung kept his head bowed until Hajun's retreating figure was well out of sight. Eventually, he slowly straightened back up and returned to his regular duties.

When Chungsung opened the front door of the mansion, six-year-old Yeon Dongha was looking up at him with anxious eyes.

Chaebol -- in Japanese, "zaibatsu", or a financial conglomerate^[2]. It's a corporate structure wherein the parent company controls countless subsidiaries, and subsidiaries of those subsidiaries, through its shareholdings. To the Japanese mind, it may be roughly compared to the handful of extremely powerful corporate groups that exist in Japan as well; but in South Korea, the influence of these conglomerates reaches far beyond what other countries can easily imagine, even extending into politics. They are the aristocracy of a capitalist society, the absolute pinnacle of an overwhelming economic system.

And of these groups, one of the key players is the Yeon family.

From a young age, Baek Chungsung never once questioned that he would be raised as a servant of the Yeon family. His father and grandfather before him had served as butlers to the Yeon family for generations, so it was simply inevitable that Chungsung would follow in their footsteps.

Being quite the perceptive child, Chungsung understood well how fortunate his circumstances truly were. In order to grow into a person worthy of serving as the Yeon family's butler, he received a high-quality education. He ate exquisite food and wore fine clothing in order to better understand the lifestyle of the upper class. His path had been decided for him, but the path that was laid out for him was a gilded one. What else could that be but a blessing?

At twelve years old, Chungsung was assigned to be caretaker and playmate to the then-five-year-old son of the Yeon family-- which is to say, Yeon Hajun. This was his first master-servant relationship, but despite the significant gap between their ages, they were childhood friends, and almost felt like surrogate brothers.

It was after one year that the kidnapping incident occurred.

It happened during a grand party-- one of the scant handful of yearly gatherings where the entire Yeon family gathered in one place.

The motive was simple: they wanted to demand a ransom from the Yeon family. However, they child that they took was not actually related to the family at all. Hard as it may be to believe, the perpetrators mistook Chungsung for a child of the Yeon family, and he was kidnapped.

Because he was a smart child, Chungsung knew at once what had happened; it was for this reason that he did not rashly speak up. If the truth were to come out, wouldn't they simply make another attack to kidnap Hajun? And if they found out that they had taken the wrong child, would they dispose of him, as he would be of no use to them? It was his childish pride as a servant, combined with this precocious acuity, that made him hesitant to speak up. As such, Chungsung had no alternative but to quietly allow himself to be taken away by the gang of criminals.

The gang of criminals realized soon enough that the child they had kidnapped was a mere servant, but they proceeded with their plan regardless. They intended to use Chungsung as a replacement hostage in order to extort the ransom from the Yeons. But... since they had not been successful in kidnapping the actual child of the Yeon family, it seemed that they decided that a more intense appeal to emotion was necessary. In a show of intimidation, Chungsung was to be subjected to brutal torture.

Over the course of one week following the kidnapping, Chungsung was dragged through a living hell.

At first, the violence he faced was as simple as a strike across the face; but over time, it evolved into merciless beatings. What started as merely the threat of a knife was soon made manifest with painful wounds across his pale skin. Left bound in a dimly-lit abandoned warehouse and given only moldy bread for sustenance, Chungsung could do nothing but endure it.

Perhaps it was as the men said; perhaps the Yeon family might show me some compassion. Perhaps, since I have served them so devotedly despite my young age, they would pay the ransom to save me.

He clung to that fragile, uncertain hope.

But, of course, the Yeon family had no reason to be swayed by such petty sentimentalism.

As the Yeon family refused to pay the ransom, the kidnappers grew more frustrated and intensified their torture. Chunsung continued to endure their escalating violence, even when it hurt, even when it was difficult, even when he wanted to cry, even when he wanted to vomit.

And so, as Chungsgung endured it, he began to sublimate the unfathomable pain by justifying it to himself.

I'm glad that I am the one who was kidnapped. I'm glad that it isn't Hajun. All of this time that I spend is for Hajun's sake. All of this is proof of my devotion to the Yeon family.

It hurts but I'm glad that Hajun does not have to bear this hurt it's painful I'm glad that I could shield a member of the Yeon family from having to face this pain I feel sick But even so, I am happy that I can be of service to the Yeon family it hurts I hate it but I'm happy it hurts But it is for the sake of the Yeon family it hurts This is for Hajun's sake it's painful I am happy that I am able to remain loyal it hurts but I'm happy that I am able to be of service It hurts but I'm happy, I'm happy to be of service it hurts I'm happy I'm happy it hurts I'm happy I'm happy -- aahhh!! I'm happy it hurts!

And so was broken Baek Chungsung the person, and so was perfected Baek Chungsung the servant.

This horrific experience was etched upon Chunsung's heart, a twisted sense of fulfilment indelibly linking to the feeling of pain to the "joy of servitude".

To be honest, it is very likely that this distorted way of thinking dramatically enhanced Chungsung's aptitude as a servant. However, for the young Hajun, who was kept unaware of the kidnapping, the change was utterly bewildering, leaving him only to think, when my servant came back, he suddenly had developed quite the strange prediliction.

As a result of this, the master should simply command his servant with an arrogant regard, and the servant should revel in the feeling of being dominated. At twenty-four years old, Baek Chungsung had lived the entire time in the intirim with this belief.

One day, Dongha returned home from cram school and politely wiped his shoes upo the doormat.

"Dongha-bocchama. Thank you for all of your hard work today."

The school bag slung across Dongha's hunched shoulders was tremendously heavy. One must wonder whether it was the expectations placed upon him or the pressure that weighed as heavily as the books. Regardless of which it was, that heavy burden was a weight upon the back of then-ten-year-old Dongha.

"... right."

He wasn't even ignoring Chungsung. With his listless reply to Chunsung's words, Dongha shuffled off towards his room. The sound of his footsteps tapping against the polished floor of the entrance hall was remarkable in its dullness.

In Korea, the month of May is known as "the Queen of the Seasons". However, despite the warm weather, Dongha's expression was grey and gloomy. It seemed that he was dreading taking dinner around the dining room table. After he entered his room, he slammed the door shut behind him, and Chungsung could hear the lock clicking into place.

"Nn... nnh..."

Chungsung could hear a couple faint sobs, and thereafter it seemed that Dongha was stifling his voice. After this, Dongha would have to report his academic achievements -- which had fallen short of expectations -- to his father. There was never any togetherness or warmth at the family dinner table; rather, there was a tense atmosphere that evoked a shareholder meeting. This was particularly true when performance fell short of projections.

"... hm."

Chungsung, still holding the jacket and bag that he had been entrusted to handle, barely managed to suppress a sigh that threatened to escape his lips.

Now what am I to do?

From the moment that Hajun had departed for Japan, Dongha had borne the weight of his parents' expectations, and many years full of thorny hardship had passed since.

From Chungsung's pserspective, Dongha's greatest misfortune was that he had an incredibly talented person to whom he had to compare himself, and that person was no longer nearby.

"The one who possesses the necessary strength was born under the wrong circumstances," Chungsung said softly to himself, "and the one who was born with the proper blood lacks the strength... things don't always go the way you want them to."
He carefully arranged Dongha's shoes. Looking at how small his feet were, he almost began to worry about whether or not Dongha would be able to stand firmly on the ground.

Yeon Dongha was quite the well-behaved child. He was quick-witted, and a fast learner. He spared no effort in living up to the expectations of his parents. He possessed keen artistic talent, and his athletic abilities were decent as well. However, his results were still inferior to those of his older brother, Hajun.

Indeed, Dongha had talent. However, talented though he may be, in an upper-class family, simply being talented is taken as a given. Especially as it pertains to being heir to the Yeon family, simply being the top student among other gifted students is insufficient. It's necessary to be overwhelmingly superior. Hajun had stood out among his peers, to the point where nobody could even approach his level.

People are, of course, individuals. They each have their own strengths and weaknesses. However, because of the doting attention that Dongha recevied from both of his parents, it would not be tolerated if he fell short of Hajun in any way. For him to be less capable than a bastard child was completely out of the question. So, for the young Dongha, it was unbearably stifling to be compared day in and day out to the brother that they had already banished.

It was precisely because of his parents' love that the existence of his older brother -- an older brother who never received that very love -- was an obstacle in his way.

Both brothers were to be pitied. But even Chungsung himself could not help but compare Dongha and Hajun. Who observes their master more closely than his servant, after all? And even from Chungsung's perspective, it seemed that Dongha lacked what was needed to be a proper master and a leader who could bear the responsibility of heading the Yeon family.

And above all, Chungsung was not able to feel that he had done his job in service to its fullest-- that is to say, there was a profound lack of "punishment".

"If he were Hajun-bocchama," Chungsung mused, "he would have immediately vented all of his frustrations upon me..." He gazed out at the eastern sky from the window. The wispy shape of the clouds evoked the image of a whip-- but it was probably just his imagination.

Thinking back on it, even Hajun's punishments had an artistry to them. The angle at which he kicked Chungsung; the sharp edges of his words, honed perfectly to cut into the most vulnerable parts of Chungsung's heart. It was truly magnificent. One day, he was told, "Chungsung, become a chair," and was made to kneel. Then, a potted cactus was placed upon his back and he was left like that for many tends of minutes, after which he was scolded for having an "ugly foundation", and Chungsung was so moved by the experience that it reappeared in his dreams.

For Chungsung, it had been pure enjoyment, but for Hajun, he had been deftly releasing his frustrations in this way, sublimating his stresses into aggression just before they reached a breaking point, and thus he maintained high motivation. Hajun had been able to continue moving forward by becoming sadistic, and for Chungsung, it was a source of pleasure. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement.

Thinking of it that way, it was clear that Dongha was bottling up his stress. As such, Chungsung could not relax, either. As his servant, it would be unthinkable for him to overlook and gloss past the situation.

... wait just a moment.

He had a sudden revelation-- or perhaps it was something that he simply hadn't thought too closely about before.

Chungsung headed towards Dongha's room, and -- doing his best to keep his excitement under control -- knocked upon the door.

"Bocchama? Dongha-bocchama, it is Chungsung speaking."

He had the time to take two deep breaths before he received an answer. The door was unlocked, and slowly, it opened. When he saw Dongha's face, his pale face was swollen with tears, as though his eyes alone had been painted in red.

"... what do you want. There's still time before dinner, isn't there?"

"May I trouble you to speak with you for only a moment?"

Chungsung stepped into the room without deigning to mention the tear stains. He carefully and firmly closed the door behind him to prevent anyone from overhearing their conversation. Then, he knelt before Dongha to come down to his eye level.

"Bocchama, please allow me to take a moment of your time to allow me, your humble Chungsung, to offer a suggestion. ... when people experience pain, it leads to a stagnation of the heart. If one is to keep that all to themselves, then their mind will not work properly, either. It is only natural that such a person's grades would stop improving as well."

He captured Dongha's full attention with simply the word grades. If he were able to address the heart of the problems that Dongha was facing, then he would be willing to listen. This is something that Chungsung knew well.

"It's in the Analects^[3], is it not? Per Confucius: Learning without thought is labor lost--"

"... I haven't learned that yet," said Dongha.

"It simply means that if you do not reflect on what you have learned, simply studying down will not lead to any great personal growth. However, if one's mind is awash in stagnant, distracting thoughts, there is simply no time to think," said Chungsung. "It is my belief that skillfully resolving issues of stagnation is also a quality that those in leadership must posssess... one must be able to spit out the distracting thoughts that swirl inside the head."

"If I could just 'spit them out', I would have done that already." Dongha bit his lip; his eyes threatened to spill over with tears.

These were not the eyes that Chungsung wanted to see. But, it was a good start. First things first was to get him to turn the tables on Chungsung.

"Father doesn't want me to show weakness," said Dongha. "I can't afford to show weakness. Such a weak heir would only be a disappointment to my father..."

"Bocchama," Chungsung said, smiling widely with only his eyes. "Such feeble complaints are the essence of self-reproach. A ruler must not spend his time constantly blaming himself. If you are to vent, express your anger, your indignation, rather than your weakness... when faced with an injustice that does not go the way you would will it, take those feelings of injustice and turn them into verbal abuse, into violence, and turn it upon others. That is the way of the conquerer."

"What... where am I supposed to do that? How!?" Dongha said indignantly. "Who am I supposed to throw all of that at?"

"Do I not stand before you?"

Chungsung smiled beamingly. It was a friendly smile. It was a smile of obedience.

Kings can be made.

Throughout history, countless servants have done just that. A king is not a king from the very onset; he is a king because he has had those around him to support him. A proper servant is also a guide on the path to power.

This plan would kill three birds with a single stone. Dongha's heart would be soothed by allowing him to relieve his stress. In doing so, it would encourage his growth and lead to the prosperity of the Yeon family. And, furthermore, Chungsung would be able to experience his "joy of servitude". There could surely be no more devoted, nor more clever, plan of action for such a servant.

Dongha's gaze was fixed upon Chungsung. He had made a convincing case; all that remained now was the finishing touches that would tie it all together. Chungsung knew exactly what he needed to say to trigger the reaction he was looking for.

"Hajun-bocchama used me for the exact same purpose."

The look in Dongha's eyes changed dramatically. As the tight reins of supression that he had been keeping on himself began to loosen, the mere mention of that name was more than enough to make his mind go completely blank.

A small open hand struck across Chungsung's cheek. Kneeling, so as to make it easier to hit him, had been well worth it.

"Ah...!"

A few moments later, it seemed that Dongha became aware of the stinging numbness in his hand. He seemed to come back to his senses, then, taken aback that he had raised his hand to another person. But it was a good thing that he had tasted the pleasure of striking another, even if only the once.

"That's excellent, Bocchama."

Chungsung lifted a hand to his own cheek, where the feeling of the open-handed strike still lingered. He could clearly remember the outline of his small hand upon his skin.

... alright. That's far from enough to be sufficient, but there is still more, ever more, to come!

"Chungsung, I told you that I was going to take a shower before breakfast."

First thing in the morning, he was scolded for disobeying an order that he did not remember being given.

"Chungsung, you're taking too long in getting my outfit ready."

After breakfast, the clothes from the closet are strewn across the floor, and he is ordered to pick them up.

"Chungsung! Who in the world told you to put cat ears on this hat!"

Before heading out, he is struck across the face by the brim of a hard cap with cat ears attached.

Ah~! Now this, this is it, I can't get enough of this~!

Two years had passed since it began. The friction of time's forward march continued to rub raw Dongha's heart. The pent-up frustration, which he could no longer contain within him, was manifested as violence. As a result, Dongha was able to vent it out, and his grades had improved. Chungsung's predilictions -- or, rather, his plan -- had certainly come to fruition.

He had grown a hard shell of pride in order to protect his heart. His eyes had grown sharp, honed by a distrust of other people. Eleven-year-old Dongha was growing into a fine child of the Yeon family.

Especially at the height of summer, in August, Dongha's "rewards" (which was to say, his punishments) became more severe. The idea that summer vacation is a time at which elementary students can relax and cut loose is reserved only for mundane people. For the children of upper-class families, however, these days are filled with cram school and self-study. Indeed, this was the most gruelling time of the year. In stark contrast to Dongha, however, Chungsung was leading quite the fulfilling life, thanks to the escalating pressure and similarly escalating punishments.

Under Dongha's fierce gaze, Chungsung bowed and apologized profusely, but his apologies were only superficial. Prostrating himself was the best way to avoid his face accidentally giving away any signs of his pleasure.

"If I may be so bold as to say so... bocchama. The cat cap of which you speak is a model put forth in the spring collection by a designer who holds a Royal Warrant from the British Royal Family... although it may look simply cute, you will find that the tailoring is of high quality, and I thought it would suit Bocchama well, so I took it upon myself to order it."

"The tailoring is 'high quality'? So what? You... you truly think that this hat, the likes of which a frivolous tourist at a theme park would wear, would suit me?"

As Chungsung knelt, he could feel the rough texture of indoor slippers pressing against his head. Even without lifting his head, he could feel the piercing coldness of Dongha's gaze pouring down upon him. When he felt the grinding, crushing motion, his heart began to pound like a man in love. Dongha's voice came from above.

"The craftsmanship is meticulous, yes, but there's been compromises made in the fabric selection. This is merely 'high quality', but you could never call it top of the line. This is the kind of mass-produced garbage that relies on a designer's name to sell at a profit! A product that carries a name but lacks quality... you would insinuate that this would suit me?"

"I-I'm terribly sorry, Bocchama! My judgment was made in error! Please, I ask of you, see fit to teach your humble Chungsung a lesson for this--!"

"Don't you dare try to give me orders when you're the one being disciplined!!"

A full-forced kick landed against Chungsung. Then two, then three. As a finishing touch, Dongha hurled the cat-eared cap in question at him.

Aahhhnn! Yes!! That one just now was particularly good, Bocchama! ... Chungsung thought, but he refrained from saying as such out loud.

After several kicks, Dongha finally calmed down and gave a new order.

"You'll replace that ridiculous hat. Am I understood?"

"Y-yes. It will be as you command it."

Brushing off his clothes and taking up his parasol, Chungsung provided shade on the way to the waiting car. Today was free for leisure. It was one of the rare days where there was no cram school. The luxury car, polished until it shined like obsidian, already had its air conditioning on. After escorting Dongha to the back seat, Chungsung inspected the front grille (which bore a striking resemblance to the Parthenon) to ensure that there was no condensation, before he took the drivers' seat.

"Are we to follow the the planned route today and go forward with going shopping?"

"Stop by the art museum," said Dongha. "There's a special exhibition of Joseon Dynasty white porcelain with an AR installation that lasts only until the end of this month, isn't there? I want to go see it."

"Ah, yes, your summer homework assignments include... a report on familiarizing yourself with some aspect of history, do they not? Understood."

In reality, Chungsung knew that this was one of Dongha's hobbies. While he enjoyed playing piano, horseback riding, and chess, at the times that he was mentally exhausted, Dongha particularly enjoyed art. He was skilled at oil painting, but when time was too short to allow for that, he also enjoyed coloring books. He would, in all likelihood, purchase an adult coloring book at the museum's gift shop.

The large car rolled along its way, headed towards the art museum. The scenery of the city rushed past the windows as though in an advertisement. The lush green ginkgo trees lined the streets were basking in the bleaching heat of midsummer. People outside walked along in a haze of heat, while Dongha watched from inside a car where the temperature was a stable 23° C.

Before long, they arrived at the art museum. Even they walked from the underground parking lot to the entrance, Chungsung did not forget to open the parasol he was holding. Today, it was serving in place of a hat.

"Ah, Dongha-sama...!"

A child's voice called out to them. On their way to the reception desk, they ran into a group of five or six elementary school children. They were well-dressed children, and Chungsung recognized them. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, they were Dongha's elementary school classmates. They were the children who often hung out around Dongha.

From under the shadow cast by the parasol came Dongha's voice in reply. "Hmph. So all of you have come here looking for material for your assignment as well?"

"Y-yes. There's a special exhibit going on right now that would be perfect for it..."

Dongha did not seem to care overmuch. However, the eyes of the other elementary school students were darting around nervously.

The Yeon family name was a passport to anywhere you wanted to go. It was trivial for them to purchase museum tickets on a whim, but for the children standing before them now, it was not so simple. They were all children from wealthy families, but even so, if they wanted to see a special exhibition, they needed advance reservations. It was clear that they had made plans without Dongha.

"Uh, if you want, Dongha-sama, you can, uh, join us..."

"Me?" said Dongha. "Visit an art exhibition with you lot who couldn't tell the difference between constructivism and impressionism if it bt them^[4]? If you've got the time to make such presumptuous jokes, you should go and attempt to better your underdeveloped minds instead."

And Dongha strode right past the boys. The sound of his fast-retreating footsteps echoed.

Chungsung was about to ask was that truly alright?, but right as he was opening his mouth, Dongha stomped on his foot in a foot of anger, causing him to instead blurt out, "That's alright!!"
(Dongha's resultant "What?" was a perfectly valid question.)

After a short silence, Dongha murmured in a small voice.

"They're just like you... they're all the same. All anyone cares about is the name of the Yeon family." Then he pressed his lips tightly and began walking quickly. Chungsung followed after him in silence.

Dongha-sama, you always get lost when you're alone... he thought. Of course, he wouldn't say that out loud even with a gun to his head.

All of the children they had just encountered were the children of the presidents and executives of various companies under the Yeon conglomerate. Just as Dongha was obligated to take on the role of a ruler, all of them were obliated to obey the Yeon family. To an extent, Dongha was right; those children were in a similar position to Chungsung.

Chungsung was quite personally offended to be lumped in with children who would be so blatant in turning their attitudes towards their masters on and off-- and worse, to be so blatant about it as to be noticed by the master in question. But, more important to Chungsung than any of his own personal feelings was understanding what Dongha was feeling underneath the surface. As they shuffled along, his small back seemed stiff, as though he were enduring a dull and persistent ache.

So Chungsung simply stayed by Dongha's side as they examined the exhibition space.

The air in the museum, cooled by the air conditioner, was filled up by the silence, and the polished stone store was heavy with a layer of dust. The dry sound of footsteps echoed against the white porcelain on display.

But, the silence didn't last long. As they finished viewing the first exhibit and turned the corner along the marked route, Dongha frowned.

"Every last one of them..."

Dongha's eyes fell upon a boy who was looking up from the exhibit, and their eyes met.

His hair was black and cut in a slightly-long bob cut. He was tall and slender for his age, standing at a head taller than Dongha. Chungsung recognized his face, as well. The boy narrowed his eyes as if he was judging the situation, and then the corners of his mouth followed in pulling upwards into a malicious smile.

"Well, well, it's Dongha-sama, what a coincidence. Looks like you don't have your entourage with you today."

"... you're one to speak, but I imagine you must be quite lonely without even a single attendant with you, Woojin," Dongha said coolly.

"Well, unlike you, Dongha-sama, I'm not so sheltered that I can't go anywhere on my own."

This boy's name was Yang Woojin^[5]. He, too, was the son of a company under the Yeon conglomerate-- specifically, Yang Electronics, a medical equipment manufacturer.

As Dongha looked at him, his lips pulled down into a pointed frown and he exhaled through his nose. "What good would it do for someone who can't answer the most basic questions on a social studies test to look at Joseon Dynasty porcelain?" he said. "If you want a vase to put weeds in, you can just nose around on some flea market app."

"Oh, thanks soooo much for the advice," said Woojin. "On that note, Dongha-sama, you seem to be walking around in a hurry; is the AC so cold it set you off and made you wet yourself? Because just so you know, just because all these vases are white it doesn't mean they're toilets, so don't get the wrong idea, okay?"

"Honestly," said Dongha, "just more evidence that those of low birth are classless and tacky even when it comes to mockery. Chungsung, give him some mints to try and salvage his breath."

"You really can't do anything without your butler, can you? Guess that's why you looked so pathetic at our sports day last year."

After watching what felt like two Pomeranians yipping at each other for a while, Chungsung stepped in to intervene once it seemed that Dongha's tone was growing genuinely incensed. With a hmph!, Dongha took his leave.

"Are you alright, Bocchama?" Chungsung asked, kneeling down to meet Dongha's gaze as he asked. Dongha was clearly carrying a lot of tension in his temples, but he managed to keep his composure.

"He's still as stubborn as he ever is..."

It wasn't an unusual sight to see Woojin and Dongha snapping at each other. Woojin was also a top studen at school and often butted heads with Dongha. If Dongha ever faltered, it was sure that Woojin would step in to take the lead. In many ways, he was an unwelcome opponent.

Chungsung sighed softly, as though he were empathizing with Dongha's discomfort. "It seems that Woojin's words and actions are becoming more provocative as the years pass... considering his father's position at Yang Electronics, surely, he is not at an age where he doesn't realize how foolhardy it is to act that way towards the Yeon family."

"Hmph. He just has a complex about his father," Dongha said, turning away with a huff. "He's just upset to see his adoptive father who he respects so much grovelling and bowing his head to my father. That mongrel adopted out of an orphanage... he doesn't even realize that all he's doing is undermining his adoptive father's status. It's more than foolish-- it's pathetic."
Explaining Woojin's circumstances seemed to put Dongha's mind at ease somewhat. Since Chungsung had been trying to steer the conversation in this direction, this was a satisfying turn of events.

Seeing that the tension in Dongha's temples had eased somewhat, Chungsung hunched his back and leaned in to whisper; though it was perhaps presumptuous of him to do so, he intended to offer a bit of advice to his master. "But, Bocchama, if that is the case, then wouldn't it be easy to shut Woojin-sama's mouth?"

Dongha raised an eyebrow; Chungsung continued undeterred.

"Yang Electronics is in a position where they can never defy the will of the Yeon conglomerate. If Yang-sama were to hear of Woojin-sama's disrespectful treatment of you, then--"

"Do you think I'm so petty that I would go tattle to another child's parents about a fight?" Dongha's voice was far colder than the marble chilled by the air conditioning, and it pierced straight through Chungsung's eardrums. That voice seemed to seep into his ears, sending shivers down his neck and making his very spine tremble. "If you're going to suggest a course of action like that, Chungsung, then why didn't you intervene earlier and stop it immediately?"

"M-y sincerest apologies, Bocchama. I simply believed that it would not do to cause a violent scene at the art museum..."

"Who said anything about resorting to violence? Can't you handle things in a civilized way? Once we've finished looking around the exhibits, we're going outside for a bit. It seems you are in need of a stern lesson."

"Y-yessss..."

I can't abide his attitude towards Bocchama, but even so, my sincerest gratitude to Woojin-sama!

Afterwards, Chungsung enjoyed a few moments of pure bliss as his face was mashed against the sun-drenched cobblestones.

They say that time goes faster as more of it passes by-- and that seems to be true.

Every time Chungsung sees the Platanus trees, which had seemingly all at once turned a uniform yellow color, he is struck by that thought. The heat of summer is long past, and the year's calendar is dwindling to a close. In other words, Dongha was growing another year older.

Chungsung visited the busy downtown district alone to check on the ear cuff that he had ordered as a gift for Dongha. He also wanted to acquire other gifts, should he find any suitable ones.

"... hm."

He heard the sound of lively music coming from the street, and then concert footage was displayed on a large montior. Ah, is that all it is? Chungsung said to himself, completely unmoved.

It was a Phantom Live. They were a form of hiphop perforamnce that had become quite mainstream in recent years.

There was no doubt that the market for them was huge. He was aware of the trend -- and moreover, there were ties between Alter Trigger, the company at the heart of the movement, and the Yeon Conglomerate -- but Chungsung had no interest whatsoever in such pop culture ephemera. However, he had some interest in the side effects of Phantometal-- the trap reactions. To him, the idea of being able to vividly relive past trauma sounded like being able to restore the sweetness and flavor to chewed gum.

... now that I think of it.

Chungsung checked his watch. He had plenty of time before his appointed time to visit the department store. This area was something of a star-studded neighborhood, and since so many celebrities lived around here, the area had a great appreciation for the arts. He was fairly certain there was also a shop that dealt in the work of international artists as well.

He checked the map; it wasn't far. Chungsung casually decided to take a detour from his walking route, and he entered a CD shop with a rather niche selection of deep cuts. Just as he expected, there was a section for hiphop. Though he searched the section for some time, he couldn't find what he was looking for.

Only after scouring the indie label section did he find the name he was looking for.

"BAE". According to various music information sites, they were a rap group that had been gaining some momentum lately in the indies scene. The group consisted of three members, all from different countries of origin. Chungsung had utilized his information network to investigate the members' backgrounds.

If he recalled correctly, SUZAKU was the son of a famous pianist and opera singer, and was himself considered a musical prodigy-- Sugasano Allen by name. There were rumors circulating in political and business circles that anZ had been the son of a British diplomat.

And then, there was 48 -- Yeon Hajun.

All of them children who, despite having respectable parents, were unable to surivive in those homes of privilege.

"... Hajun-bocchama."

Pity and sorrow filled Chungsung's narrowed eyes.

Even though they're gaining momentum, they're not even signed to a major record label?

A young man who had once walked the path of brilliance as heir to the Yeon family, only to be told that his shine was merely a thin veneer of gilding. An older brother who was dabbling in vulgar pop entertainment and singing in obscurity with other youth in circumstances similar to his own.

This would serve as a perfect example of what not to do for Dongha.

After taking a moment to sigh heavily, Chungsung took his "learning materials" to the register.

[1] This refers to a form of BDSM play wherein the dominant partner neglects the submissive partner for the purposes of sexual gratification. [Back]
[2] This is all really hard to explain so just go look up information about zaibatsu and chaebol because I can't do it in a way that will make it any clearer because my understanding of business and economics is ~*not articulate*~ [Back]
[3] The Analects are also known as the Sayings of Confucius. I'm using this name here because the quotations begin with (as I am choosing to phrase it) 'per Confucius', so this avoids some redundancy. [Back]
[4] This is not a direct translation -- literally, he says "people who don't know where the term 'ハプニング' comes from". ハプニング, or happening, refers to a particular artistic movement that prefigures modern performance art, but has also become a loanword in Japanese that simply means an unexpected coincidence. Basically: he's saying they're at an art museum, but they don't know that a common phrase comes from art history, and thus they are uncultured. Because this doesn't make any sense in English, I've changed the line but tried to keep the effect intact. [Back]
[5] I'm guessing at the romanization. Note that the name is given in Kanji as 梁友珍. [Back]