Stranger that I Know: The Forgotten Promise

5 – Are You Human or Animal?

"Aaaaaaahhhhh!"

His scream was a raw, unbridled cry of sorrow, laced with such profound sadness that it seemed to pierce the very air around him. The depth of his pain overflowed, spilling from his eyes as endless tears streaked down his face.

Even Ilya, with his hardened heart and guarded emotions, felt an unfamiliar ache tugging at his chest. The man looked utterly broken, as though he had just lost someone he cherished more than life itself.

Before anyone could react, he turned sharply toward Arya, the one who had lit the flames. His expression twisted into something unrecognizable. His Rage and despair converge into a singular, terrifying force.

With one swift motion, he closed the distance of more than five meters and struck Arya with such force that he was flung several meters away.

The set descended into chaos.

The man stormed toward Arya again, his intent clear. People rushed to intervene but failed. His single move defeated trained bodyguards, crew members, and even actors.

It was as if they were nothing more than paper caught in the wind. One by one, they fell, unable to match his strength or resolve.

Ilya stood frozen, his heart hammering in his chest. He remembered him, it was the stranger he met, Ilya reorganized the blanket still wrapped around his lower body.

Then, without thinking, he ran toward the stranger, his legs moving before his mind could catch up.

"STOP!"

he shouted, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and desperation.

The stranger didn't seem to hear him. He was a force of destruction, his movements wild and unrestrained, his every action a reflection of the raw chaos within him.

Ilya didn't know what he was doing. He didn't know what would happen. But as the stranger raised his fist again to beat Arya, Ilya threw himself against him, wrapping his arms around the man's chest with all his strength.

"Please… stop!"

The words came out as a choked plea. Ilya squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the impact that would surely send him flying like the others. His body trembled, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst.

But the strike never came.

For the first time, the stranger stilled.

Ilya slowly opened his eyes, his grip tightening against the stranger's burning warmth. He didn't dare look up, but he could feel the man's rapid, shallow breaths against his skin, his body trembling with emotion.

The chaos around them seemed to fade. For a brief moment, there was only the sound of their breathing, the crackling fire, and the echo of screams still lingering in the air.

"Ilya,"

Arya called out, his voice shaky as he tried to regain his composure.

The strange man had almost scared the life out of him. Cradling his dislocated shoulder with his other hand, he struggled to stand upright, his face pale from the pain.

Despite his fear, Arya couldn't help but worry about Ilya, who was standing dangerously close to the stranger. Yet, he didn't dare approach, still haunted by the man's earlier display of unbridled strength.

Hearing Arya's voice snapped Ilya back to reality. For a brief moment, he had lost himself in the stranger's warmth. The realization startled him, yet he couldn't deny the relief and surprise he felt. The man hadn't harmed him, he hadn't even returned his embrace, but his presence had calmed him in a way Ilya didn't understand.

Taking a step back, Ilya could still hear the rapid thudding of the stranger's heartbeat. It was unnaturally fast, louder than anything he'd ever heard before.

"Are you alright?"

Ilya asked softly, the words leaving his lips almost instinctively.

The moment they were out, he felt embarrassed. He stepped back further, moving closer to Arya, trying to put some distance between himself and the man. What he didn't notice, however, was the way the stranger's eyes remained fixed on him, never wavering for even a second.

"Who are you?"

The director demanded, his voice sharp as he tried to regain control of the chaotic situation.

As expected, the man didn't answer. He remained silent, his face blank as though he didn't understand the question — or perhaps, as though he didn't care to respond.

Ilya stepped in to defuse the tension.

"He's... kind of like Tarzan," he said, glancing at the stranger.

"Probably doesn't know much about the world. He must've thought we were burning his home or something."

His explanation earned a few skeptical looks, but as Ilya pressed on, suggesting the man might be mentally displaced, the conversation eventually fizzled out.

The director hurriedly shifted focus to Arya's injury, arranging for immediate treatment. Since it was the final scene of the shoot, the crew began wrapping up quickly.

Ilya sank into a chair, watching the commotion around him as the team packed equipment and tended to minor injuries.

Other than Arya's dislocated shoulder, no one had suffered anything major. Leo was nearby, updating Ilya on his schedule and upcoming appointments now that the outdoor shoot was coming to an end.

"The Sangsaeng and tribe head are here,"

Someone announced, causing the group to pause as the elders arrived on set.

The crew gathered while the stranger, now eerily calm, squatted a little distance away. Ilya noticed the man sneaking glances at him, his eyes darting toward him only to quickly look away whenever their gazes met.

Unlike before, when the man's stare had been unrelenting, he now seemed almost shy, bowing his head each time Ilya turned to face him.

The tribe elders examined the stranger closely, their brows furrowed. After a long moment, they stepped back, shaking their heads.

"He doesn't belong to our tribe," the headman said decisively.

"We've never seen him before. With no identity, no relatives, and no way to speak or understand us, it's difficult to say what should be done. If he's been living deep in the jungle with animals, he's not our responsibility."

There was a tense silence as murmurs spread through the group. Some suggested turning the man over to the police, while others hesitated, unsure of the best course of action.

"How about I pay for the damages? Whatever resources were broken, I'll cover it,"

Ilya said, breaking the silence.

The group turned to him in surprise.

"Why would you do that?" Leo asked abruptly, frowning.

"It's not a small amount, Ilya. Cameras were damaged, and Arya will probably demand medical compensation. You're not the type to get involved in things like this."

"It's my money," Ilya replied with a sharp but playful smile. "I can waste it however I like."

Leo looked unconvinced, but Ilya was already discussing the matter with the director and the finance team, brushing aside any further protests.

As the crowd began dispersing, Ilya leaned back against the tree, exhaustion weighing him down. His gaze drifted once more to the stranger, who was still sitting silently nearby. Their eyes met briefly before Ilya looked away, an inexplicable flutter in his chest.

"Hey, come here," Ilya called out.

The man tilted his head, confusion flickering across his face. Ilya sighed, realizing words wouldn't get through to him. Instead, he beckoned with his fingers, gesturing for the man to approach.

At first, the man hesitated, his eyes widening slightly. Then, slowly, he crawled toward Ilya on his knees, his blanket dragging across the sand.

"Do you want to come with me?"

Ilya asked when the man was close enough. Knowing he wouldn't understand, Ilya extended his palm, hoping the gesture would convey his intent.

To his surprise, the man took his hand without a moment's hesitation, gripping it tightly.

"Alright,"

Ilya said, pulling his hand back, his heartbeat quickening at the contact.

"If you have anything you want to bring, get it now. We'll be leaving in a few minutes."

The man didn't move. Instead, he stared at Ilya's withdrawn hand for a moment before leaning forward and pressing his head against Ilya's lap.

"Hey—"

Ilya froze, startled by the sudden intimacy.

He instinctively tried to push the man away, but it was futile. The stranger's strength far outmatched his own.

"Are you human or an animal?"

Ilya asked softly, half-joking as his psychiatrist's suggestion crossed his mind. s

Sighing in defeat, Ilya reached out and held the man's hand again. This time, the man lifted his head, a rare and radiant smile spreading across his face. It was so warm, so unguarded, that Ilya's breath caught in his throat.

Ilya couldn't quite name the feeling that stirred within him at that moment. The stranger's radiant smile hit him unexpectedly, piercing straight through his guarded heart without warning. It was unlike anything he had ever felt, gentle yet profound, like standing beneath the first rays of the morning sun, their warmth quietly chasing away the chill.

His honey-colored eyes sparkled in the sunlight, luminous and captivating, creating the illusion of sunshine embodied in human form. The sight left Ilya breathless, his chest tightening with an unfamiliar ache, as though something fragile and precious had just been awakened deep within him.