6 – Tit for Tat (2)

Chapter 2

Four months since the disappearance. It was the beginning of winter, a month after the sluggish search operations had come to an end. A moderately weathered sedan glided into the streets of a rural village where everyone knew exactly how many spoons were in every household’s drawer.

The person who stepped out of the driver’s seat tightened the collar of a thick jumper and pushed up their glasses. After loosening the hair tie that held their neat bob tightly in place, they set off without hesitation. An old man sitting in a pavilion was the first target. “Hello. I’m from the station,” Choi Min-jung said, offering a greeting that was also a lie, followed by a smirk.

“And?”

“Dunno. Probably gone.”

Filtering through the mumbled pronunciation, Min-jung pushed up her slipping glasses again and picked up her pen. In a palm-sized notebook, the words ‘Anbyeok-ri—Confirmed’ were scribbled. Then, a gaze that was calm yet sharp met the cloudy pupils of the old man.

“That’s it?”

“Whaaat… my memory’s fuzzy. Dunno.”

“Is that so? You don’t even know the name?”

Indifferent dots were tapped onto the white notebook page. The old man clamped his mouth shut and turned away obliquely, as if he had nothing more to say. This was the third person. All three had said similar things, as if they had coordinated their stories: that he had stayed here for a bit but left quickly.

Min-jung looked at the photos she had captured from clear frames of the video, then tucked them between the pages of her notebook and stood up without further questioning. It was the day she had finally found a clue that he was alive after two months of grinding. It was a day worth celebrating, but she wasn’t particularly happy. One of her clients was so busy that contacting them wasn’t easy, and the other wasn’t the kind of person who would be satisfied with a simple “He’s alive.” It was awkward.

Fortunately, the missing person didn’t have a common face. Every time she showed the photo, even the elderly with failing eyesight made it obvious they recognized him.

When you spend your time digging into the backgrounds of people who all look more or less the same, you tend to miss someone exceptional. The fact that it wasn’t an affair also contributed to a positive impression. Scratching her forehead with the end of her pen, Min-jung walked along the pier where a chilly breeze blew and returned to her car parked in the center.

Her steady stride stopped a few steps before the car. A man, somewhere between middle-aged and elderly, with a green hat perched haphazardly on his head, was loitering around, peering into the driver’s seat.

The man, frowning as he examined the unfamiliar car, was Hwang, who had rushed over after hearing rumors that someone was looking for Hae-won. His face was flushed red, likely from chatting over some soju. Upon coming face-to-face with Min-jung, whom he had never seen in the area, Hwang instinctively straightened his shoulders to act the part.

“Never seen you before. Who are you?”

Sighing secretly, Min-jung pulled the notebook from her coat. As she habitually found the photo and held it out, Hwang’s eyes widened slightly before darting away. Min-jung uttered the same opening line for the fourth time today.

“I’m from the station. Have you seen this person?”

“I don’t think so. Hmm, but…”

It was obvious he was urgently trying to change the subject. With her hands in her pockets, Min-jung tilted her head crookedly and looked down at Hwang. Unlike the towering Gi-tae, Hwang wasn’t very tall, but he thrust his head up with a characteristic brazenness.

“I know all the cops around here, but I’ve never seen you.”

A transparent attempt to act important. Min-jung turned her gaze toward the wide-open sea. In a rural village where everyone was interconnected, this wasn’t uncommon.

“I came from far away.”

“Far away where?”

If he asked where, she didn’t have much to say. Being a police officer was, of course, a lie. She generally avoided impersonating a public official, but since it worked well everywhere, she took the risk from time to time. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, Min-jung looked around as if everything were a nuisance.

“There’s this thing… I heard he left from here. Around when? Did he go to the terminal?”

“I told you, I don’t know. But why? Why are you looking for him? You gotta tell me that!”

“What would you do with that information? Ah, was the terminal this way?”

As she changed the subject and opened the driver’s door, Hwang nodded absentmindedly. Min-jung got into the car without responding. Ignoring the shout from behind demanding a reason, she started the engine. Her plan was to pretend to go to the terminal, then return to scout the neighborhood a bit more. Min-jung drove with the sea in the background as the sunset began to fade.

When Min-jung returned to Anbyeok-ri after briefly leaving the village, it was around eight o’clock and the sun had completely set. Unable to find a proper place to park, she parked between some vans near the pier and turned off the lights and engine. As she always did, she intended to keep watch for about a week. Pulling a pack of cigarettes from her inner pocket, Min-jung put a filter in her mouth and fished a lighter out of her pants pocket. It was then.

Even through the closed car window, a cacophony of curses and shouts echoed vividly. Min-jung lowered her lighter before lighting the cigarette and turned her gaze toward the source of the commotion. Near the pier, two men were arguing as they stepped out of a modest pub used by sailors. No, only one side was arguing.

A man wearing clothes that didn’t fit his body was shoved violently and sprawled onto the ground. Judging by the bright red, glossy apron he was wearing, he seemed to be an employee. Intrigued by the fight, Min-jung leaned forward, squinting as she stared at the man who was hesitatingly backing away. Because it was dark, she could only tell that he was extremely thin and terrified. Finally, when a streetlamp swarmed with mayflies illuminated the man’s face, Min-jung let out an exclamation for the first time in a long while.

“I’m telling you, fifty thousand won is missing! You piece of shit! Ah, let go! I told you something was off!”

The middle-aged man who had shoved the other by the collar was furious, shaking off the people trying to hold his arm. The man under the streetlamp shook his head and tried to say something, but it couldn’t be heard. Min-jung curled her hands into circles like binoculars, staring intently at the fallen man before pulling out her notebook.

She held the photo she had carried for two months against the car window and compared it several times with the man before her. Brown hair, fair skin, and features arranged in a harmonious, literally “half-and-half” beauty. Despite being the man she had searched for for two months, she found herself tilting her head. She knew he was supposed to be twenty-five or twenty-six, but the man in her sight looked much younger. Perhaps because of his skeletal frame, short-cropped hair, and hunched shoulders, he looked like a boy of barely eighteen. With tears dripping down his flushed cheeks, he looked even younger.

“Wow… talk about luck.”

Placing the cigarette she had been holding on her thigh, Min-jung stopped watching the fight and picked up her phone to find a familiar number. The ringing signal was cut off quickly. Just as she wondered if they had hung up and looked down at the screen, a low voice flowed out. Pressing the phone to her ear, Min-jung spoke while stealing a glance at the boy being kicked in the ribs.

“You didn’t pick up last time. Yes. I think I found him. Ah. I found him.”

Recalling the client’s hatred for vague statements, she corrected herself. After a brief pause, the client asked a few more things.

“This place… I’ll send you the address. Well, it doesn’t look great, but it’s not bad either. Ah, as for that side…”

Before she could add “Should I tell him?”, the person on the other end cut her off. Listening silently, Min-jung nodded with a lukewarm expression. It was a reflexive reaction that wouldn’t be visible. Soon, her tone rose a pitch.

“I’m grateful, of course. Yes, yes. I understand. I’ll contact you if anything else comes up. Yes.”

The call ended. Relaxing her tense shoulders, Min-jung’s lips curled up as soon as she confirmed the additional deposit in her bank account, but her expression shifted to one of trouble upon seeing a text at the top of the screen.

She stared blankly at the name saved as ‘Seo Hae-young—Missing’ before entering the text window. She sent a message asking for a little more time and then used the lighter to light her cigarette. Then, with a bored face as if watching a movie, she looked out the window. It was a scene of assault that naturally drew a sigh.

“Good grief…”

As the boy was being dragged by his hair, a tall man stepped in and unilaterally slammed the attacker down. Then, the green hat who had bothered her during the day suddenly appeared, pointing a finger at the middle-aged man who had grabbed the boy’s hair, and soon they were scuffling. People rushed in from all sides to pull the two apart. It might have been serious for them, but from a step away, the sight of them flailing was utterly ridiculous.

“What a…”

Snorting, Min-jung waited until the pier quieted down before starting the engine. She had received the money, and a job that had no lead had progressed by sheer luck. She began to hum, thinking of sleeping comfortably in a lodging facility today. The sedan, with its headlights shining brightly, sped along the coastal road. Min-jung pushed the accelerator, momentarily pushing the image of the boy being unilaterally beaten to the back of her mind. The winter sea was silent.

To put it simply, the private investigator hired by Seo Hae-young was someone who earned her keep—except for the fact that information leaked smoothly from the top.

* * *

On the night Min-jung bought a lottery ticket, marveling at her own luck, Hae-won sat on the edge of the wooden porch, looking down at his eyes which had begun to swell. Gi-tae, letting out a rare deep sigh, opened a grimy first-aid kit and rummaged through it. His lips remained habitually blunt and his gaze dry, but his cheeks, where coarse stubble was growing, twitched slightly as if to signal his discomfort.

“I told you not to go.”

Squeezing ointment onto his index finger, Gi-tae hesitated between the temple marked with fingernail scratches and the split lip, before moving his hand to the scratches. The touch of applying the ointment thickly to the wound was more careful than it looked. It didn’t even feel like it was touching. Looking up, Hae-won mumbled an excuse in a somewhat slow tone.

“They said they were short-handed…”

“Short-handed my ass. Don’t go.”

The contradictory tone wasn’t kind. His split lip curled up just enough not to be obvious. It was a smile that looked like a flinch from stinging pain. Hae-won nodded slightly without answering.

Just as the index finger, with half the ointment remaining, was moving toward the lip, Hwang rushed into the yard, bringing the winter wind with him. Although the front of his jumper was disheveled, he looked relatively fine since the scuffle had been one where he expected to be held back.

“You okay? Good lord, your face is a mess…”

With a face full of grimaces, Hwang folded one leg and sat his backside on the porch. Gi-tae, who moved over a hand’s breadth to make room, wiped his fingers on a holey towel and rustled through the first-aid kit to organize it. Wiping his hands on his trousers and holding Hae-won’s face, Hwang grimaced as if he were the one in pain and clicked his tongue loudly.

“That guy, because he acts like that, all his kids run away. I mean, really, a mere fifty thousand won! I just threw it at him and came back.”

“I… that…”

Before Hae-won could finish his sentence, Hwang intercepted him, waving his hand.

“I know, I know. I know he was nitpicking. It’s easier on the mind to just give it and end it.”

Feeling as though he had done something wrong to Hwang and Gi-tae by trying to work, Hae-won’s head drooped. He suddenly wanted to pay back the fifty thousand won that had ended up in Mr. Kim’s pocket, but unfortunately, he didn’t have a single penny.

“That man isn’t inherently bad, but he acts like that whenever he drinks. And… he dislikes outsiders. Anyway, don’t go near him for a while. It’ll be frustrating, but it’s better…”

Hwang, not wanting to crush the spirit of Hae-won, who had only recently started going out after a long period of being unable to speak properly, smacked his lips and patted his shoulder. It wasn’t particularly comforting, but Hae-won, having nothing else to say, nodded. Perhaps because he knew someone who acted that way whenever they drank, his understanding of what kind of person Mr. Kim was came quickly. He had cried in shock when he was suddenly hit in the back of the head and dragged out by the collar, but now he was reasonably calmed down. His eyelid, hit by a fist, hurt, but hadn’t Gi-tae and Hwang helped him? Realizing that he would have been beaten helplessly in the past, he didn’t hate Mr. Kim that much.

Hwang, who had been sitting on the porch, stroking his stubbly chin and alternating between cursing and defending the man, suddenly hesitated, saying, “Um…” Drawing in the gaze of Gi-tae, who was organizing the first-aid kit, Hwang leaned his upper body toward Hae-won, who was gently brushing dust off his clothes.

“Um… this morning. I saw a car I’d never seen before. I heard someone was going around asking the grandmas things, so I went to check. But that person…”

Though he looked better than during their first meeting, Hwang shut his mouth with a lukewarm expression upon meeting eyes that still held a lingering gloom. He retraced the events of the day, recalling his fuzzy memory. The person he hadn’t seen around here was looking for Hae-won while showing a photo, but they didn’t exactly look like they were searching for a criminal. At most, a missing person. While debating whether he should tell him or not, Hwang looked closely at Hae-won, for whom he had developed a certain affection. He was a grown man, but he was so scrawny that it was heartbreaking. Having a habit of covering for each other and pretending not to know, Hwang quickly changed the subject and stood up from the porch.

“Nothing, nothing. Apply the medicine and sleep. It’s cold. Gi-tae, you feed the kid. He’s skin and bones…”

Vowing to make sure the old folks kept their mouths shut, Hwang snapped at the silent Gi-tae for no reason and left the yard faster than he had arrived. Hae-won just blinked, then belatedly bowed his head toward the back of Hwang’s head. Gi-tae nudged his shoulder, signaling it was time to go inside.

Before falling asleep, Hae-won washed himself awkwardly with a hose connected to a faucet, avoiding the areas where the medicine had been applied. Winter here was chillier than in Seoul. The unheated bathroom was even more so. Unable to close the door even as the wind whipped in, Hae-won shivered while washing, then wiped down the water-stained mirror with his palm. A pitifully thin man met his eyes. He felt his forearm with a cold hand. Leather and bone were felt before flesh.

Hwang had spoken as if Gi-tae were starving him, but Hae-won was eating three meals a day. But it was strange. No matter how much he ate, he kept losing weight. It was as if the food Gi-tae made, or the food produced here, didn’t suit his body and wasn’t being absorbed at all.

As he lowered his gaze, the hair that Gi-tae had roughly cut when it started poking his eyes fluttered in the faint draft coming through the small window. The unfamiliarity of having it cut so short was brief. Regardless of what had happened, time flowed like a river, and as he grew accustomed to Anbyeok-ri, he also adapted to the man with short hair in the mirror. It was a frightening thing.

Adaptation makes a person dull. It makes them fear change. Half of him wanted to stay here, and half of him had an intuition that he had to leave for somewhere. Unable to do anything about the worry that deepened as time passed, Hae-won wiped away the moisture.

Leaving the bathroom, Hae-won walked across the porch with his shoulders hunched. Having forgotten to bring a change of clothes, his upper body was bare. The winter wind made his skin feel as if it were being sliced, causing his teeth to chatter. As he hurried into the room to sleep, the warm heat rising from the floor gently melted his frozen skin.

Gi-tae, who had been watching TV after laying out the bedding, pulled a t-shirt from the wardrobe as soon as Hae-won entered. Taking the old t-shirt with both hands, Hae-won hurriedly put it on. Just as he pushed his arms through and was about to pull the hem down, Gi-tae blurted out.

“Your back is chafed there.”

Reflexively, he turned his head toward his back.

“Oh…”

It was true. It was hard to see as it was close to the spine, but a red scratch was faintly visible. It seemed he had been scraped on the gravel road when he fell on his backside. Gi-tae watched Hae-won as he reached back to fumble around the wound, then gestured toward the first-aid kit in the corner.

“Lie down.”

“I can do it myself…”

“You can’t even reach it, so what’s the point.”

Unable to resist Gi-tae’s momentum, who had already taken out the medicine, Hae-won slowly lay face down on the bedding. He tried to lift the t-shirt first, but a hand suddenly reached out and pulled the hem up with a rough touch. Since Gi-tae was far from being gentle or affectionate to begin with, Hae-won swallowed his discomfort and rested his chin on his crossed arms.

The heat rising through the thick mattress and duvet relaxed his exhausted body into a languid state. As a sudden wave of drowsiness washed over him, Hae-won blinked his bruised eyelids slowly, then suddenly flinched. He felt a sticky sensation on his lower back. The ointment, softened by body heat, covered a fairly wide area in a thin layer. The knuckles of the fingers, feeling smooth thanks to the ointment, lingered over the wound longer than expected. The sound of his heart, which had been beating steadily, grew louder and thundered in his ears. It was an instinctive repulsion. He tried to tell himself that Gi-tae was different from them, but there was no way to stop his heart from plummeting in anxiety.

“Does it hurt?”

Gi-tae asked bluntly, somehow sensing the stiffness of Hae-won’s tense back.

“……No.”

“Fine. Sleep.”

As soon as the answer was finished, the hand that had been applying the ointment withdrew. Quickly adjusting his T-shirt, Hae-won burrowed under the covers and turned away toward the wardrobe. After putting the ointment back into the first-aid kit, Gi-tae lay diagonally and watched TV. A foot, thick with calluses, brushed against Hae-won’s calf. Naturally, Hae-won bent his knees to create distance.

For some reason, sleep would not come today. More than the beating, it was the bitterness of being in a situation where he couldn’t even hand over fifty thousand won. It had been a long time since he had earned his keep. He couldn’t repay such kindness simply by feeding the chickens or organizing the supermarket shelves. That was why the sound of celebrities chatting on the TV was grating. The fact that they—and Gi-tae, who watched them—continued their lives through legitimate labor turned into a sense of defeat that seeped into his fragile heart.

Then, a regret surfaced in a corner of his mind: why had he gone down there? Still, it had been a request from the owner of the pub who occasionally gave him leftover sashimi, making it hard to ignore. He had agreed, thinking he only had to do some dishes, but he hadn’t known Mr. Kim would cause such a scene. Did the owner know? It wasn’t anyone’s fault. He simply felt gloomy and ashamed that he had been momentarily excited by the thought of being able to do something.

And whenever he grew weak like this, the voice he kept stored in one ear would drift in. His dead left ear had stored a mountain of sounds from the past and, at some point, began pouring them out indiscriminately. It was a radio that couldn’t be turned off.

You can’t do anything on your own, so you need me. I’ll take good care of you, so just do what I tell you and don’t do what I say not to do. Today you’ll eat this, tomorrow you’ll eat that. Don’t break the rules. You’re just clumsy, so I’ll handle everything for you. You don’t even need to go to school. You don’t have to work. I’ll do it all for you. Understand? Do you understand, Hae-won?

Seo Hae-young, pressing his soft lips against the ear canal, had whispered low and fast. Those sentences were formless leeches. The pitch-black leeches settled deep within his mind and sucked away his will whenever he tried to do something.

Perhaps it was true. That was one of the reasons why Gi-tae made him uncomfortable. Gi-tae didn’t draw lines for him. To Hae-won, being left to roam freely was no different from being thrown into a crowded marketplace without a single word of guidance.

He had escaped, yet he had not. Whether in the past when he lived as a dependent in Seung-wan’s house, or now, living as a dependent in Gi-tae’s house. Not for a single moment had Hae-won escaped the shadow of Seo Hae-young.

In winter, when the grass insects did not cry, Hae-won closed his eyes while listening to the crackling, low-quality sound of the TV with his functioning ear. Then, without fail, Seo Hae-young’s voice was heard. Like the sound of waves crashing against the tetrapods surrounding a breakwater, he always remained by his side, audible wherever he went.

* * *

One month later. On the weekend of the first week of the New Year, a modest feast was held at the village hall. The method was the same every year. Each household brought plenty of food to share and chatted as they usually did; this was their way of starting the year.

On the morning of the feast, Hwang and the grandmother from the house with the blue gate came by, patting his back and urging him to go, but Hae-won only shook his head. He had no desire to go to a place where several villagers, including Mr. Kim, would be glaring at him with distaste. After seeing off Hwang—who turned away disappointed, saying he’d go and snag a few pieces of meat pancakes—and Gi-tae, Hae-won headed to the backyard as he did every day.

When he opened the door to the chicken coop, which had been covered with plastic for the winter, the smell of dry rice straw wafted out. As he scattered feed on the yard and called them, the chickens, which had been huddled together, bobbed their heads and walked out. Not being the type to be affectionate or give names to animals, Hae-won scattered a handful of feed and perched on a plastic chair. A pale mist of breath escaped his lips. It was chilly, but he couldn’t just watch TV. He planned to wipe the porch and sweep the yard once before Gi-tae returned.

While watching quietly to time the next feeding, he noticed one hen wasn’t eating well. They all looked similar enough that it was hard to tell them apart, but he could recognize at a glance that it was the one that used to rub its feathers against his leg. It had been like that for a few days. He had no choice but to hold the feed in his hand and pile it up where the bird was, but it only pecked a few times before stopping. Looking at the hen, which was nodding off as if sick, with pitying eyes, Hae-won dusted off his hands and stood up. Gi-tae wasn’t the type to be affectionate enough with a chicken to take it to a vet just because it was sick, so he could only hope it would eat well tomorrow.

Gi-tae returned sooner than expected. Hae-won, who had been sweeping the yard with a plastic broom, approached the porch following Gi-tae’s gesture. Carrying a black plastic bag, Gi-tae handed him some meat pancakes wrapped in foil and sat down beside him. Hae-won thanked him and began eating the pancakes one by one, his shoulders shivering in the cold wind.

Then, Gi-tae suddenly reached out and gripped his forearm. Hae-won, who had been chewing a tough piece of pancake, coughed slightly in surprise. Gi-tae, his brow furrowed deeply on his sun-darkened skin, massaged the forearm as if gauging something, then grabbed his wrist. As another person’s body heat touched his skin, the hand holding the foil bundle trembled. Despite being frozen in place, unable to even ask him to let go, Gi-tae released him quickly, stood up abruptly, and headed for the kitchen. When he emerged from the kitchen and slipped into his slippers, he was holding a knife.

Hae-won, swallowing the piece of pancake he hadn’t yet chewed finely, turned pale the moment he saw the direction Gi-tae was heading. He remembered that he hadn’t closed the chicken coop door. He hurriedly stood up and limped around the house, but the coop door was already locked. However, his panic did not subside.

All the chickens had returned to the coop, but in Gi-tae’s grip was a single hen, its wings flapping violently. It was that hen. Gripping the squawking chicken, Gi-tae turned toward the front yard. Hae-won followed behind, glancing at Gi-tae’s firm jaw and the knife held in his hand.

“Why…… why?”

His voice trembled. Crouching beneath the faucet near the wall, Gi-tae examined the struggling chicken and muttered indifferently.

“It’s frail; it’ll die soon anyway.”

Thinking his prediction had been correct, Hae-won stepped forward quickly to defend the chicken, which was flapping its wings wildly.

“N-no. It ate feed earlier……”

Before he could finish his sentence, the flashing blade instantly slit the chicken’s throat. Hae-won forgot how to breathe, as if his own breath had stopped. Bright red blood dripped in spots onto the yard he had walked across every day. The chicken, its throat cut without a sound, shuddered. Accustomed to slaughtering chickens, Gi-tae hung the bird upside down from a nail in the wall, grabbed the black plastic bag from the porch, and went into the kitchen.

“Uh, uh……”

Indistinct groans escaped his lips. Dazed by the situation that had passed too quickly to intervene, Hae-won couldn’t move a single step, staring at the twitching chicken. It wasn’t dead yet. Because the heart had to beat to push blood through the body, it hadn’t died instantly. Red blood flowed down the wall.

The meat pancakes he had just put in his mouth, chewed with his teeth and swallowed down his esophagus, must have gone through a similar process. He had known this, yet he felt an indescribably crude sensation. He immediately bent over and gagged, but nothing came out. Even in that moment, the chicken was dying.

Roughly two hours later, Hae-won met the chicken that had rubbed its feathers against his leg again, this time on a small dining table. Inside the belly that had held the scattered feed, it was now filled with ginger, glutinous rice, jujubes, and ginseng, and the head was gone. After staring down at the chicken immersed in the cloudy broth for a long time, Hae-won hesitantly picked up his spoon.

“Eat it all. That’s how you put on weight.”

Gi-tae, who had placed a plate for the picked-over bones on the table, wiped his wet hands. Checking Gi-tae’s expression, Hae-won took a spoonful. It wasn’t astringent or fishy. It was edible. No, it was delicious. Under Gi-tae’s watchful eye, which monitored him until the bowl was empty, Hae-won ate every bit of the tenderly boiled chicken. The chicken that had bled profusely from its slit throat flickered before his eyes…… the upside-down chicken remained etched on his retina, swaying like a haze. When he scooped up the remaining broth, he felt like vomiting everything back up. The days of the past when he had wanted to slit his own throat overlapped with the chicken’s final moments.

That night, he could not easily fall asleep. Since it was winter and the sun set early, the surroundings were pitch black, though in reality, it was only around six o’clock. Thinking the villagers would all be gathered at the hall anyway, he told Gi-tae he was going for a short walk.

Carefully descending the steep slope, Hae-won walked toward where the sound of the waves could be heard. Recalling Hwang’s warning not to go to the pier, he stopped at a suitable distance, beneath an old streetlight. Sitting atop the breakwater that reached his thighs, Hae-won pulled his legs—which were uncomfortable to cross—close and hugged them with both arms. As he stood alone and held his breath, the sound of the waves grew louder. Pitch-black waves, invisible to the eye, surged and receded relentlessly.

“Hae-won.”

Even though his lips hadn’t moved, a voice blended into the sound of the crashing waves. His ear was acting up again. At first, he had looked around in surprise, but now he wasn’t even startled. Resting his chin on his knees, he thought of the chicken that had become his nourishment.

He hadn’t been particularly attached to it, and it had likely been raised to be eaten anyway, yet his lower abdomen grew cold as if he had done something wicked. He couldn’t forget the stream of blood the chicken had sprayed. He couldn’t forget the eyes of the beast as the light faded. Just as he let out a small sigh.

“Yoon Hae-won.”

A more vivid voice struck his eardrums. The hair on his skin stood on end, and a tingling electric shock shot up to the top of his head. The moment he realized that no one in Anbyeok-ri knew his name, his entire body jolted. A hand gripped his shoulder with force, pulling him back just as he was about to tumble forward.

Regaining his balance, Hae-won couldn’t even look back and let out a choked breath. The tension, as if the blood had drained away and his internal organs were twisting, manifested as goosebumps. His stiff neck turned very, very slowly. A voice, so composed it almost sounded annoyed, blended with the sound of the waves once more.

“It’s been quite a while……. Aren’t you going to greet me?”

It wasn’t an exaggeration; it really had been a long time since he had seen this person. Hae-won’s eyes, wide with bewilderment, couldn’t fix on the face and darted around.

The memory of crawling through a neatly manicured garden to find a hairbrush thrown with great force, as if playing a grand game, rose to the surface. Sometimes it was a small cookie tin, a watch, or a hairpin. The memories of the sweet treats given as rewards and the touch of a hand stroking his hair after he pushed through the brush and crawled on the ground to find the thrown objects popped up in succession. Even the image of a young boy standing far off with his arms crossed, watching everything as if absorbing it all. The person who had removed their hand from his shoulder asked again, just like in those days.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you going to greet me?”

Seo Ga-young.

She was Seo Hae-young’s older sister.

* * *

The two, reuniting after a long time, ended up sitting in the corner of the pub from which he had been kicked out in a wretched state a month prior. In the empty hall, where all the villagers had flocked to the community center, there were only three people: the owner wearing a red apron and wiping the tables, and Hae-won and Seo Ga-young, who had received the basic table setting.

The table, crowded with plates of freshly sliced raw fish, grilled fish, pancakes, and seasoned vegetables, had no empty space. The owner, who had glanced at Seo Ga-young with a puzzled look because she didn’t order alcohol, shifted his gaze to Hae-won sitting opposite her and then turned away as if resigned. When the owner answered a phone call with an “Uh—” and stepped completely outside the shop, only the sound of Hae-won biting his nails blended with the silence.

He thought no one would look for him, but someone had, and they had come. And for that person to be the completely unexpected Seo Ga-young……. He didn’t know how to express the complex tangle of emotions. The hand hidden beneath the table fidgeted busily. The tips of his plump thumbs gradually split and turned red.

He had maintained contact with Seo Ga-young less frequently than with Joo Hyun-jeong. Since Seo Ga-young had become independent as soon as she passed the administrative civil service exam, it had been roughly six or seven years since they had faced each other at a meal. To Hae-won, for whom exams, public service, and the entire system were completely foreign, it was difficult to even start a conversation by asking what she did these days, and since it wasn’t a setting to inquire about each other’s well-being in detail, he simply waited.

Seo Ga-young, who poured plain water into a beer glass instead of soju, ate in absolute silence. There was no sound of metal chopsticks clashing, nor did they even graze the plastic bowls. Her fluid use of chopsticks, that face that clearly showed they shared the same bloodline, and her inscrutable expression all fueled the tension.

More than how she found out or why she came, what he wondered was whether Seo Hae-young knew about this place. Whether he knew and chose not to come, or whether it hadn’t reached his ears yet—there was a mountain of things he wanted to ask, but it was incredibly burdensome to open his mouth recklessly while Seo Ga-young remained silent. Finally, when Seo Ga-young spoke, it was around the time red blood began to stain the flesh around his nails.

“Min-jeong is very good at her job. Perhaps it’s because she’s a former police officer. She’s good at finding people, and good at catching affairs……”

The tip of the chopsticks, which had picked up a thick slice of raw fish, lifted a piece of omasum. Hae-won stared blankly as the chewy omasum entered Seo Ga-young’s mouth, then lowered his trembling eyelids. Seeing the dark red raw liver and penis fish on the plate being emptied one by one, someone’s taste naturally came to mind. A person who wouldn’t touch food that was bright red, slimy, or somehow repulsive, yet was not picky in other ways.

For Hae-won, who had desperately tried to distance himself from everything that reminded him of Seo Hae-young—unless it was when the memories attacked him unconsciously—he was on the verge of breaking into a cold sweat, wanting to bolt from the spot immediately.

After filling the introduction with mundane stories that didn’t really register in his ears, Seo Ga-young set down her chopsticks. As expected, there was no sound. Having filled her stomach sufficiently, Seo Ga-young rolled up the sleeve of her black suit, checked her wristwatch, and looked up.

“I have to go to a funeral, so I don’t have much time to talk. It’s a relief that it’s nearby.”

After wasting twenty minutes on trivialities, Seo Ga-young took her phone out of the inner pocket of her jacket. She dismissed an incoming call and checked a few text messages. Seeing her look quite busy, Hae-won, unable to do anything, poured water into the empty beer glass. Taking a sip from the half-full glass, Seo Ga-young put her phone back and spoke.

“Should you head back soon? It doesn’t seem like you’re living comfortably.”

Her sharp gaze, touching her short hair, scanned Gi-tae’s sweater, which had loose threads in several places, before stopping on his fleshed-out face. Pulling down the sleeve of the old sweater, Hae-won hid his uncontrollably shaking hand beneath the table.

Four months had already passed, and the mindset he had then had long since faded. Since he had naturally thought he would die, he hadn’t planned for the aftermath. How the two people who had been on that cliff together had coped was an unknown territory. Whether they were shocked, bewildered, or perhaps laughed in absurdity, or whether they had returned to their daily lives as if nothing had happened, forgetting the nightmare of that summer day. Because he knew nothing, it was a reality that was even harder to face.

“I……”

He had poured out every curse he had and jumped, but somehow, the one bound by those curses was himself. He had wanted to die but couldn’t, and was living day by day as if merely prolonging his existence. Not a shred of an image of a suffering or agonized Seo Hae-young came to mind. It didn’t even happen in his imagination.

The imaginations he conjured time and again always stopped at the final scene. Seo Hae-young, wearing a look of despair. But after that, it was pitch black. After thinking and thinking, he arrived at a single conclusion. Perhaps he had seen it wrong that day. There was no way that bastard would make such a face. Therefore…

“Going back, that… I, I can’t…”

Incoherent ramblings spilled out in stammers. It was vague. Where was he supposed to go back to? The row house where everything from the furniture to the wallpaper might have changed and a new person might be living? Or some basement where someone had mimicked a ‘home’ using stolen furniture and wallpaper?

There was nowhere to return to.

Unable to meet the eyes of the person sitting opposite him, Hae-won stared blankly at the back of the CEO, who was talking on the phone outside the shop, before weakly casting his gaze downward. Just as he hadn’t been able to speak candidly to Joo Hyun-jeong, a past he couldn’t tell Seo Ga-young either blocked his words. Just as Seo Hae-young and Joo Hyun-woo were different, Seo Ga-young and Joo Hyun-jeong were different. She might react differently, but it certainly wouldn’t be in a good direction.

After waiting in silence, Seo Ga-young rummaged through her jacket pocket, scanned his pitiful state, and continued in a high-handed tone.

“Be smart. Don’t make a busy person come all the way to the boonies.”

Hae-won sniffled once. She had always spoken that way, but hearing it after so long—and in this situation—made his fingertips tingle. The heater placed at his feet grew so hot it felt as if it would burn his skin, and her ice-cold voice dulled the sensation of heat.

“Go apologize, and live with your mouth shut. How hard can it be to just humor them a bit?”

Shock rippled through his clear eyes, which had been filled with fear. Hae-won opened his mouth, letting out a groan of “Uh, uh…” before taking a sharp breath. His face crumpled unsightly, like a crushed can.

“Noona, how… no, why… I, I can’t go there. That place is…”

“Ashtray.”

Spotting the long cigarette in Seo Ga-young’s hand, Hae-won swallowed his trembling voice and jumped up. When he brought over a metal ashtray with a slightly warped frame and placed it in front of her, Seo Ga-young finally lit the cigarette and took a deep drag of the filter. When he declined the cigarette she offered with a “Want one?”, she didn’t insist.

The acrid smoke escaping from between Seo Ga-young’s teeth scattered over the table, where the plate was less than half empty. While she remained silent, repeating the cycle of inhaling and exhaling a few more times, Hae-won asked in a voice that barely concealed his sobbing.

“Do you… know what happened, is that why you’re doing this? Hae-young, Seo Hae-young…”

Lifting her chin, Seo Ga-young looked down with indifferent eyes at Hae-won, who looked as if he might burst into tears at any moment.

“What happened?”

The friend of her younger brother, who had lost the polished glow he once had, couldn’t properly continue his words. Seo Ga-young slowly scanned the scars remaining on his scrawny wrist and the collarbone that the baggy sweater couldn’t hide, then spoke as if letting the words drift away.

“Just think of it as a moderate fight, okay? I think that’s better for both of us.”

Whether those words were quite shocking, a tear dropped down his stiff cheek. He hurriedly wiped his wet cheek, but he couldn’t hide the sniffing. Staring quietly into Hae-won’s bloodshot eyes, Seo Ga-young let out a breathy laugh and flicked the cigarette ash.

“Just kidding. I’ll get you a house. Where do you want to live?”

“…Huh?”

“I’ll give you a monthly allowance too. If there’s anything else you need, tell me now.”

Hae-won asked back blankly, dazed by the subject changing as if a palm were being flipped. Frowning, Seo Ga-young checked her wristwatch once more. She had no more time to waste trying to make the dim-witted Hae-won understand. He was so miraculously stupid that she could probably send him all the way to Seoul if she coaxed him enough, but she had neither the intention nor the time. Taking one last drag of the filter and crushing the cigarette out, Seo Ga-young got to the point using the simplest words and slowest tone she could manage.

“I don’t know exactly what you guys were up to, and I don’t want to know. But the rumors are a bit… you know.”

Stroking her cheek, Seo Ga-young met his pale eyes and summarized the past time in a quiet yet cold manner.

Three of you came to play, and one person fell off a cliff where entry was forbidden; we don’t know if they’re alive or dead. But the villa bedroom is a bloodbath, there are signs of a fight, and one of the people there is my family. Not even a family member I’m fond of. And to my eyes, it doesn’t look like an accident at all. It’ll look that way to others too. I don’t know what will happen next, but I’d prefer it if you didn’t become a stumbling block for me. So, let’s just settle this among ourselves. Help each other out if necessary. What do you think?

Even after the simple and slow summary ended, Hae-won could not easily open his mouth. The words slowly imprinted in his mind tangled into a strange shape, and suddenly his shoulders jerked as if he had been doused in cold water.

“Ah…”

In that deeply muffled groan, a sense of futility and a feeling of relief coexisted. He felt empty, realizing that Seo Ga-young hadn’t come looking for him because she was worried, but he felt relieved that Seo Hae-young didn’t know his whereabouts.

Though she didn’t receive a proper answer, Seo Ga-young stood up while checking her vibrating phone. As he followed her, putting on his jumper and standing up hesitantly, a voice that sounded annoyed seeped into his ears.

“The best option is for you to go back to Seoul and live with your mouth shut. Just treat it as a happening. But you said you hate that.”

“I… I just want to stay here…”

“Suit yourself.”

Following the CEO with her eyes, who had walked far away to take the call, Seo Ga-young took out a considerable amount of cash from her wallet. She placed some on the counter and handed the rest to Hae-won. Taking the bills instinctively, Hae-won looked down at the bundle of yellow paper, which was excessive for a mere allowance. The ten fifty-thousand won bills were light, disproportionate to their value. Not daring to put them in his pocket, he simply bowed his head, and a white hand that resembled someone’s lightly brushed past the top of his head.

Following her out to the roadside where the cold wind blew fiercely, Seo Ga-young opened the door of the parked car and looked around. Only the village hall building was brightly lit; the clustered houses were submerged in pitch-black darkness.

“If you want, I can let you live hidden away where no one knows. It’s not hard, but it would be best to leave this place soon.”

Opening the wallet she was still holding instead of putting it in her inner pocket, Seo Ga-young took out two things. One was a card, the other a business card. Looking at Hae-won with pathetic eyes as he hesitated to take them, Seo Ga-young pushed the two thin items into his jumper pocket.

“I’ll put in five million won every month. Contact me here if you need more or decide on a place to move. Don’t call for something useless.”

“N-no… You don’t have to give me this, Noona…”

Ignoring Hae-won, who waved his hands in fluster, Seo Ga-young got into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and rolled down the window. As if to end the tug-of-war, she gestured lightly toward Hae-won and herself.

“Think of it as insurance. Our insurance. Got it?”

Hae-won, holding the card he’d taken from his pocket with both hands, closed his gaping mouth. The hard, cold edge of the card pressed painfully against his finger joints, which bore bite marks. If he accepted this, it meant he could never truly escape Seo Hae-young. But just as Seo Hae-young did, his sister would likely not listen regardless of what he said. She just didn’t hit him; the essence was similar. Feeling as if he were shouting alone against a solid wall, he slumped his shoulders and looked down at the gravelly roadside. With a devastated expression, Hae-won stopped Seo Ga-young as she was about to leave.

“…Noona.”

He had caught her attention, but the question he wanted to ask was not something that could easily leave his lips. As the time he spent fiddling with the card, which had grown warm by stealing his body heat, lengthened, Seo Ga-young’s eyes narrowed. At the look that said she couldn’t spare any more time, Hae-won forced his lips open and murmured in a voice so small it seemed he was afraid someone might hear.

“Does Seo Hae-young… look for me?”

Having managed to understand the question, Seo Ga-young was silent for a moment. After turning her gaze toward the winter sea and then meeting Hae-won’s eyes again, she replied indifferently.

“Who knows. He hasn’t contacted me.”

Despite there being no further answer, Hae-won didn’t leave. Seo Ga-young scanned him up and down, tapped the steering wheel held in one hand, and let out a sneer. After a long wait, the stiffened Hae-won received a sentence he never expected.

“I think he is.”

Hae-won was so startled that he recoiled. Before he could even deny it, the car window rolled up. The rear tire narrowly missed his bare feet clad in slippers. The car, headlights on, cut through the pitch-black darkness and passed the pier.

Hae-won stared into the darkness until the taillights vanished, then turned and walked back with heavy, trudging steps. He passed the lit-up pub, passed the breakwater, and passed the streetlights. As soon as he arrived at the slope, someone blocked his path.

“Where have you been until now?”

Lifting his tear-filled eyes, Hae-won met Gi-tae, whose thick eyebrows were furrowed as much as possible. The two met in a narrow alley lit yellow by an old streetlight and looked at each other in silence. A chilly wind dug into the nape of his neck, sending a cold shiver down his spine. Gi-tae, who had kept his mouth firmly shut, reached out and grabbed Hae-won’s forearm, turning it this way and that. At the fussiness of searching for marks of being beaten, Hae-won twisted his shoulder and pointed toward the breakwater visible in the distance.

“I went a bit far…”

Gi-tae let go of his arm and looked down with distrustful eyes, but he didn’t ask further. In a small village, rumors that an outsider had visited would spread widely by tomorrow, but Hae-won, having no strength left to talk, silently followed Gi-tae as he climbed the slope ahead.

Upon returning home, while Gi-tae went to the bathroom, Hae-won opened the wardrobe with the stiff door. He shoved the card and cash under the green blanket at the very bottom of the stack of old quilts and closed the door. He didn’t intend to use them, nor did he intend to contact her. He quickly burrowed into the warm bedding and squeezed his eyes shut. The image of a chicken dying while spurting blood overlapped with someone’s face. Just as the loathsome face became vivid…

‘I think he is.’

At that single sentence that flew in like a stone, winter waves surged in his once-calm heart. When the violent, dark waves rushed in, a nauseating retch came up.

“You’re in trouble, Hae-won. You’re really fucked. You can’t live without me now.”

Seo Hae-young, who lived in his left ear, noticed the gap with ghostly precision and whispered softly. Hae-won, pressing both ears tightly with his palms, murmured soundlessly. No, no, no. That can’t be.

Tears pooled in his eyes and dripped down, soaking the pillowcase. A decapitated chicken, a smiling Seo Hae-young, a bleeding chicken, Seo Hae-young stroking his head, a chicken hanging upside down, Seo Hae-young whispering in his ear… Red screens overlapped and swirled dozens of times before being sucked away somewhere. Gi-tae turned off the light. He burrowed into the spot next to him. He curled up a bit more and swallowed a scream. Just as he had when he was beaten by his father or when Seo Hae-young gripped his windpipe and shook him, he suppressed the sob and scream that rose to the tip of his chin. The knotted resentment hardened like stone, and his chest felt tight with a familiar intensity, sparking a desire to run through the entire village. Hae-won stayed awake until dawn, listening to Gi-tae’s steady breathing, which was so different from Seo Hae-young’s.

It was a night that neither the decapitated chicken nor the Seo Hae-young imbued with all sorts of light could be erased.

* * *

That night, the cozy winter retreated from Anbyeok-ri, and pink petals bloomed softly on the cherry trees lining the walls. Catching the cherry blossoms falling like rain, Hae-won recalled the advice that he must leave, yet he looked back every time Gi-tae called him. He chatted amiably with Hwang and the grandmother from the house with the blue gate, and when he was bored, he swept the yard dyed in beautiful colors.

By the time the accumulated cherry blossoms vanished and the sound of cicadas hiding among the lush green leaves could be heard, Hae-won occasionally smiled as he used to. He would pull the corners of his mouth wide to reveal even teeth and wrinkle the bridge of his nose in a shy smile. He cried, sobbing in his blankets or in the closed bathroom, but he smiled more often than that. The more frequent the smiles became, the firmer and thicker the lingering attachment that tied Hae-won to Anbyeok-ri grew. And then, summer again.

“Hey kid! Bring some watermelon!”

Turning toward Hwang, who had raised his voice, Hae-won touched his earlobe where Seo Hae-young’s faded voice echoed like a broken radio, then bent his waist. The watermelons in the net tied to a rock in the ground distorted along the shimmering surface.

Just as he was about to push his hand into the valley water, which had become as calm as if the angry swirling had been a lie, the burst of children’s laughter drowned out the hallucinations. Colorful tubes were floating nearby. As he reached out and pushed the tubes away, the parents nodded their heads in greeting. After exchanging greetings, Hae-won dipped his hand deep into the valley water that reached the middle of his thighs. Cicadas wailed noisily above his head, and his arm, submerged up to the elbow, pushed through the cold valley water.

On a midsummer day, water flowed flexibly between the fingers that bore deep scars, while the hand with faint burn marks cut through the current. As moment and moment locked together, the smoothly flowing current stopped its circulation and pooled fully in a large bathtub.

Black hair submerged in water, stained by a thin streak of blood spreading like smoke, swayed gently. The surface, where air bubbles rose bit by bit, was calmer than the lower reaches of the valley. The man submerged in the tub counted numbers in his head. Fifty, fifty-one, fifty-two…

After counting one minute and twenty seconds, Seo Hae-young lifted his head and let out the breath he had been holding. As he swept back his wet hair, the droplets flowing down his jaw and neck soaked his shirt completely. The streak of blood from the light cut on his forearm mixed with the water, taking on a faint pink hue. Leaning against the tub filled to the brim with sloshing water, Seo Hae-young caught his slightly labored breath and wiped a droplet hanging from the tip of his chin.

He had tried burying his head and holding his breath, but it wasn’t that difficult, and he had tried cutting the area near his wrist, but there was no feeling of relief. The mindset of Yoon Hae-won, who had indulged in self-harm, was truly a complete mystery. It was a realm he simply could not understand.

“How was it?”

Hae-won, who had been staring intently from the edge of the tub, asked. Seo Hae-young didn’t even look surprised to see Hae-won suddenly appear; he just shook his head. His voice was slightly husky.

“Not great…”

“Maybe it’s because you’re not doing it right that you can’t find it.”

Stepping on the dry tiles and approaching, Hae-won leaned his back against the tub in the same posture. A bruise, unlike any before, spread across his eyelids like a faded watercolor. Looking at that face and pondering the unfamiliar yet familiar way of speaking, Seo Hae-young tilted his head back. The Adam’s apple protruding from his long neck vibrated lowly. I guess so. In that monotonous voice, no different from usual, there was a faint trace of fatigue.

Today was the one-year anniversary of Yoon Hae-won’s disappearance and the six-month anniversary of seeing Yoon Hae-won. To commemorate it, he had cut his wrist and even buried his head in the tub, but surprisingly, he had gained nothing. As he sighed while rubbing his stinging wrist, the bastard wearing Yoon Hae-won’s shell chuckled and teased him. Realizing he couldn’t even hit him, Seo Hae-young, closing his own ears, reflected on the answerless past.

The person introduced by Seo Ga-young had simply repeated like a parrot that the target was still being sought, even after eating up several months’ worth of fees. It was three months ago that he had hired someone else because that person was completely untrustworthy. However, strange things happened in succession. At first, they showed enthusiasm and reported diligently, but at some point, the investigation fell into a pit. He might have brushed it off if it were one person, but when it happened to the second, everything became suspicious.

Since he had not considered the possibility that Hae-won was dead at all, he cut off all the incompetent people who claimed they couldn’t find a trace. It had happened just a week ago. He couldn’t find any strange signs from Seo Ga-young, whom he contacted sporadically, but he couldn’t shake the suspicion that someone was intentionally hiding Hae-won’s whereabouts.

What if… what if he’s cheating again. He had a bad feeling that if that were the case, he wouldn’t be able to let it go quietly this time. A grotesque, simmering jealousy boiled within him. Instead of voicing his anxiety, Seo Hae-young obsessively chewed his worn-down nails until he looked to the side at the sound of someone calling, “Hae-young.” Brown eyes, clearly distinct from the black pupils, grew faintly pale.

Without even blinking, Seo Hae-young stared at Hae-won, who seemed to fade more with each passing day. The bruised knees and straight shins were vivid enough to touch if he reached out, yet whenever he tried to look closer, they blurred into a hazy mass. As time passed, his memories grew dim. As the memories faded, Hae-won’s image crumbled, and the scent that wafted from the nape of his neck and his perpetually raspy voice grew faint. After lightly biting and releasing his lower lip, Seo Hae-young rubbed the clean tiles and cautiously spoke.

“I really don’t understand you. We were dating so well.”

They lived together, met every day, and kissed frequently; he could proudly say they had a happy relationship in their own way. Though Yoon Hae-won’s condition was occasionally poor, he had naively thought he would return to normal given time. Was it because he was too deeply infatuated to notice the signs? He didn’t think it was to that extent. Lifting his furrowed brow, Seo Hae-young glared at Hae-won, who was smiling playfully. With a flustered look, Hae-won’s lips—crusted with dried blood—fluttered before he offered a vaguely rational answer.

“Couples fight when they date. You just have to apologize properly.”

“I did last time.”

“And that’s why we made up. You can just do it again this time. You know what you have in mind. Apologize like that.”

The tension left Seo Hae-young’s eyes as he gazed blankly at Hae-won, who always provided a plausible answer. His bloodless appearance looked like wax that might melt at any moment, yet it appeared equally smooth. He felt as if he could feel a warm body temperature if he stroked and gripped the skin with his entire palm. His fingers, which had been circling the cold tiles, slowly crawled toward him.

I want to touch him. I want to grab the back of his neck roughly and kiss him. I want to press my ear to his flat chest and listen to the rhythmic beat of his heart. I want to squeeze his waist with both hands and push myself into his slick interior. I want to kiss his flushed cheeks, grip his hair tightly, and shove his face into a pillow until he can’t breathe. He truly wanted that.

Just before the fingers advancing across the tiles could touch the pale back of his hand, Hae-won subtly withdrew and spoke.

“You want to have sex.”

Then, after rolling his eyes for a moment, he corrected himself.

“Ah, is it rape?”

Seo Hae-young’s lips drooped into a subtle expression that was neither affirmation nor denial. If he listed everything he wanted to do to Yoon Hae-won, it would be difficult to distinguish the difference between those two words. When he avoided the choice by feigning indifference, a playful reprimand followed.

“You’re looking at me with the same eyes Joo Hyun-woo did. You tried so hard to pretend you weren’t.”

It was a tone he had never heard from Yoon Hae-won. Rather than the slightly sarcastic tone, the fact that he didn’t act according to the memories was what subtly dampened his mood. He wanted to crush that face, but he was the one who would regret it if even that disappeared. Ignoring Hae-won, who asked “You want to, right?” once more, Seo Hae-young let out a light sigh and picked up the scissors resting on the edge of the bathtub. Wiping the wet blades with a white towel, he muttered as if in passing.

“Just give me one kiss. I think I could come just from that.”

His wrist, marked with countless lines as if shards of broken glass had been scattered across his body, moved elegantly. As soon as he placed the dried scissors on the shelf, the fake with Yoon Hae-won’s face burst into laughter. It was a contagious laugh.

“I can’t even do that for you?” As he silently watched the mocking expression, Seo Hae-young stiffly pulled up the corners of his motionless mouth. Laughter, which hadn’t been coming, suddenly broke out. Hae-won chuckled, shrugging his shoulders as if something were incredibly funny, and then vanished in an instant. The laughter remained, echoing in the empty bathroom.

Like clothes getting soaked in a drizzle, he could no longer deny that the ten-odd years they spent together had left an indelible mark on a part of his life. It was a realization that had come to him after a full year.

* * *

Entering a quiet parking lot for the summer break, Seo Hae-young pushed aside a bag already positioned in the corner of the trunk and loaded a few books and a laptop. No sooner had he closed the neatly organized trunk than a Seonbae, who was also serving as a teaching assistant, waved from across the parking lot with an “Oh!” Seo Hae-young gave a nod of greeting to the Seonbae as he headed toward the driver’s seat. Standing opposite him with coffee in one hand and a stack of files in the other, the Seonbae offered the usual pleasantries.

“I heard you had a thesis meeting. Did it go well?”

“It wasn’t bad.”

He brushed it off vaguely and opened the car door. The Seonbae, who had stepped back a pace, didn’t leave immediately but narrowed his eyes. When Seo Hae-young looked at him with a face that said say it if you have something to say, the Seonbae shifted the files and finally spoke.

“Are you getting any sleep lately?”

Since he couldn’t grasp the point of the question, he waited in silence, and the Seonbae shrugged and added an explanation. A worried gaze landed on his tired eyes and the burned skin on the back of his hand.

“You’re hard to reach. People were wondering if something happened. You look tired, and your hand is like that…”

“Nothing’s wrong…”

With a slight smile, Seo Hae-young replied casually and climbed into the driver’s seat. He thought he hadn’t let it show, but it seemed that wasn’t entirely true. Before pulling his foot off the ground, he leaned his head out.

“Ah, I’m on vacation, so I won’t be in starting tomorrow.”

“…That professor actually let you off? He told me he wouldn’t let me.”

Grumbling about how this could be, the Seonbae glanced at the building where the professor was, let out a sigh, and waved the hand holding the coffee.

“Right, get some good rest. Don’t get too stressed… But aren’t you hot?”

The gaze extending beyond the transparent glasses scanned his thin clothing. Seo Hae-young smiled, lightly adjusting the sleeve that covered his wrist. The wound he had carved yesterday brushed against the fabric, causing a light sting. He replied that it wasn’t that hot and closed the car door. The temperature inside the car, having absorbed the heat, felt as if it were roasting his skin. After turning on the air conditioner, Seo Hae-young waved goodbye to the Seonbae and turned the car toward a road he had memorized months ago.

Even though it was a vacation, it was only two weeks at most, so in reality, it wasn’t much different from his past days of visiting the sea every weekend. The only difference was that he had slightly more luggage than on the weekends when he would leave at sunrise and return before sunset. Since he had carved out this leisure time from a busy schedule, he planned to stay quite a while this vacation and look around. Although it was unlikely that Hae-won, who hadn’t shown a single strand of hair despite nearly thirty visits, would miraculously appear… if it was fate, they would surely meet. Firmly believing that he and Yoon Hae-won must be fated, Seo Hae-young tuned the radio to the channel broadcasting the weather forecast, just as he had that day a year ago.

He drove without stopping and arrived around noon, but the road to the villa was blocked from the entrance. The only place he could go by car was the start of the trail. Naturally, he pulled out the car key, hopped over the rope with a sign that read ‘Private Property – No Trespassing,’ and walked along the path where tire tracks had vanished.

It was scorching heat. Although the lush leaves provided shade, there was nothing to be done about the skin-burning temperature. Heat that couldn’t be dissipated pooled red on his white cheeks. When he rolled up his sleeves, his hideous hand and skin riddled with marks where metal had passed were revealed.

Seo Hae-young climbed the mountain path, where the sound of insects could be heard vividly, as if taking a stroll. Before long, Hae-won, dressed in a short-sleeved shirt and shorts, followed behind, dragging his slippers. They took turns leading and following, disappearing and then suddenly reappearing. The gently swaying brown hair and the steps that left no footprints on the dirt road led Seo Hae-young to the closed villa.

The villa, which even the caretaker had abandoned, still seemed stuck in last year’s rainy season. Even under the blazing sun, Seo Hae-young looked around the building, which exuded a bleak atmosphere. Strangely, he didn’t feel that Yoon Hae-won would be wandering through various regions as he had before. It was a premonition he couldn’t explain. Like the villa stuck in last summer, it felt as if Yoon Hae-won would be staying here.

The swimming pool where rotten branches and shriveled leaves lay scattered, the front windows covered in thick dust, the backyard where they had grilled meat and shared trivial chatter, and the silent second floor. He searched every corner, looking for a shadow that might be staying here. He searched for the figure that made him anxious all day, fearing he might be waiting here, unable to go anywhere. After an hour passed tediously, his expectations dropped as they always did. As if by appointment, Seo Hae-young smoked a cigarette, crushed the butt, and turned his eyes toward the next path he had to take.

When he reached the forest path where a trail had formed from many people passing through, the same sense of loss chilled the nape of his neck. Hae-won, who had been following closely, had vanished.

The forest of tall trees bore a lush green color, yet poured out a heavy intimidation that didn’t suit it. His fine brow furrowed slightly. The path to the cliff, cutting through stumbling stones and tangled tree roots, felt dauntingly far. Every time he entered this forest, a doubt—wondering if he was wasting his time—seized his emotional impulses.

Whenever that happened, Seo Hae-young calculated Yoon Hae-won’s value. His eye-catching looks, his adhesive voice, his long limbs, and his cool skin often came across as attractive. But it wasn’t to the extent that he couldn’t find a substitute. The remaining traits were similar. There was no reason he couldn’t find that nature, that personality, or that way of speaking in someone else.

However, before long, Seo Hae-young reached an undeniable truth. It was the reason he walked here every weekend and the reason he saw hallucinations.

What he liked was the low sound of laughter, the expression of stealthily reading the room, the habit of slightly dragging the heels of his shoes, and the clumsy use of chopsticks—the moments that could not be found in others. The fingers busily tapping a phone screen while sitting under the bed, the hair swaying lightly when he lifted his head, and the ears that never missed a call were undeniably ideal. He couldn’t deny these things at all, and no one could replace them.

Without stopping or looking back, Seo Hae-young arrived at the cliff and looked down at the clear, transparent valley water, as if wondering when it had swallowed people, before turning his head. The clear water was flowing toward the low ground. It was the flow that had guided him on where to go every time he visited on a leisurely weekend. With every step he took, a dizzying heat and an expectation that predicted disappointment blended together.

The valley water split into several branches and flowed down the sloping mountain. The key was which stream to follow. Since there was nowhere he hadn’t been anyway, he decided to leave it to luck today. Unlike last month, it was the peak vacation season, so Seo Hae-young parked his car at the upper reaches of the valley, pushing through the dense crowds, and walked along the flowing stream as usual.

From the deep waters, as he moved gradually downstream, makeshift restaurants with platforms and tents began to appear here and there. The news frequently talked about cracking down on illegal facilities during the vacation season, but in reality, it wasn’t so.

Vacationers huddled together on small platforms, eating a late lunch and laughing loudly, seemingly delighted by something. After glancing at children splashing in tubes and people splashing water on each other, Seo Hae-young moved further downstream, as he had the previous week, before stopping in front of a tent. It was a facility no different from the others.

A plastic fish hanging from a round doorknob swayed back and forth whenever people passed by. It wasn’t pretty or unique enough to catch the eye. Staring blankly at the fish keychain, which was so common it was almost tacky, Seo Hae-young rubbed the nape of his neck and turned away.

“Gi-tae! Take some watermelon. Share it with the kid.”

When a somewhat loud, aged, and husky voice drifted from afar, a tall man walking nearby carrying a large cooler looked up. Seo Hae-young stepped slightly to the side, moving diagonally away from the tent. It was noisy and sweltering. The accumulated irritation brought on a headache. Even though he didn’t want to hear the conversation the two were having, it reached him automatically, making his head throb. He rubbed his neck with a furrowed brow. Perhaps because he had been taking short naps for a long time, he wasn’t feeling well.

“I fed him earlier.”

“He ate, so he should have a snack. Go feed him. I’ll have him work a bit later… Oh, there he is!”

The old man, with a green hat perched on his head, was so energetic that he waved his raised arm vigorously. The old man’s gaze turned toward the valley. Just as he was about to turn his head in the opposite direction, a sound reached his ears.

It was the sound of stepping on pebbles. It was an ordinary sound with nothing standout about it, but the sound of stepping deeply onto a round stone and then lightly dragging the heel, mixing in the sand, rolled around in his ears and wouldn’t leave. Slowly lifting his head, Seo Hae-young narrowed his eyes to focus his blurred vision. Perhaps the heat that warmed his cheeks had reached his eyeballs, as a haze shimmered.

The first thing he saw was a very slow pace. Legs, balancing precariously as if they would fall if they walked even slightly faster, were revealed beneath wide-legged shorts. His gaze became entangled in the legs bathed in the sunlight pouring through the leaves. They were legs with many scars. Skin with countless scratches and abrasions hid beneath the shadows. His gaze, having lost its target, shot upward quickly. However, the owner of those familiar legs was hidden behind a crowd of people passing by.

Just as a face wearing a straw hat pulled low seemed to appear and disappear among the people, and just as he was about to take a step forward, something rushed toward him fiercely.

“Ah!”

A piercing, high-pitched voice rang out, and an unpleasant sensation hit his leg. His gaze, which had been scanning the crowded valley side, dropped downward. A child, who had slammed his body fully into his knee and tumbled backward, opened his eyes wide and began to sob. Standing still and looking down at the child who had fallen on his backside, Seo Hae-young said “Ah,” and a bit late, reached out his hand to pick up the small body. As soon as he handed back the fallen tube and asked if the child was okay, a man who seemed to be the father rushed over and bowed deeply.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! Why are you running here! Were you hurt?”

“…I’m fine.”

The father, who gave the child’s back a gentle smack, apologized once more. Seo Hae-young gave a lukewarm response and looked around. As people in colorful clothes passed by, the tent with the fish was revealed. Soon, his stone-like expression crumbled, and the corners of his mouth curled up crookedly.

There was nothing. The old man in the green hat was busy soliciting customers, and the tall man was moving items from the cooler into the tent. Standing there as if rooted to the spot, Seo Hae-young stared at the tent crudely built with pipes for a long time before turning around.

On the way down, driving the car he had parked upstream, Seo Hae-young slowed down, looking ahead. Because the number of vacationers using the narrow road like a sidewalk had increased, the heavy vehicle moved slowly.

As if to tease him, Hae-won appeared in the passenger seat without warning, wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat pulled low and fiddling with the handle. When he glared silently at the guy moving his fingers with a face that looked like he wanted to jump out right now, Hae-won glanced at him with pale eyes. His cheeks, where all the veins had burst, were bluish. The arrogant behavior of twisting every word he said was gone, and the way he acted like the real Yoon Hae-won was almost pathetic.

Seo Hae-young gave a powerless smile and passed a small truck parked on the shoulder. He also passed a man walking very slowly beside it. The straw hat on the thin man’s head hid the back of his head, and the hem of his thin, loose shirt swayed gently at his waist. Because the road was so narrow, the side mirror seemed to brush the man’s elbow. The wide brim of the hat slowly turned to the right, and the lips on his slender jaw parted slightly.

Their gazes seemed to entwine for a moment through the car window, but at that instant, the sunlight pouring through the dense trees flooded his eyes. It was a light that caused vertigo.

The road opened up. Stepping on the accelerator, Seo Hae-young overtook the man. He closed his stinging eyes for a moment, then opened them and glanced at the rearview mirror. People were gathering in a buzz around the gray sedan following behind. It was a commotion that piqued curiosity, but Seo Hae-young, feeling considerably exhausted, quickly looked away. His plan now was to head into the city, find a place to stay, get some sleep, and then circle around the valley once he woke up.

As he estimated the time while sketching out a rough itinerary, he caught a glimpse of the tall man he had seen earlier running urgently. At that same moment, the scar on his wrist stung. A car behind him, unable to endure the slow speed, let out a small honk. Seo Hae-young did not step on the accelerator. Lowering his long eyelashes, he toyed with the steering wheel before turning his head to the side. A small question filled the interior of the car.

“……Should I get out?”

Hae-won, his vision blurred and hazy, repeatedly avoided and then stole glances, rubbing the door handle with fingertips that couldn’t quite reach. When the horn sounded again, louder than before, his now-transparent fingertips fidgeted with the handle.

* * *

As noisy clamor from all directions and sunlight that pierced the skin poured down, a summer from three years ago—where the sound of cicadas hammered against the eardrums—came rushing back. He had thought it was a day no different from any other, but it was the day that became the starting point for ten years of time to unravel.

The moment Hae-won’s gaze, positioned against the backlight, brushed over the dark car window. Memories flooded in sequence: the ambiguous sweetness of ice cream, a demand that couldn’t be dismissed as a joke, and the anxiety that had scorched the soles of his feet turning into a sense of relief.

The fragile peace he had pieced together bit by bit shattered in an instant. Hae-won swayed violently, as if he had been struck on the crown of his head. His knees buckled immediately.

The straw hat he wore deep over his head flipped back, and the thin string strangled his neck. The light hat, which could be blown away by a mere breeze, pressed down on his breath with a weight heavier than a boulder. He hurriedly covered his nose and mouth, but the escaping breath could not be caught by two palms alone. Gasp, huff……! The sound of labored breathing, exhaling and inhaling, tangled with a metallic tinnitus. He couldn’t decide whether to block the mouth where air was escaping or the ears that felt as if the drums were about to burst. Even that was merely a frantic gesture, as his fingers and toes curled unpredictably. His effort to regain a regular breath erupted into a cry like a scream.

Excuse me, excuse me! Are you okay?

Someone grab his arm!

Hey!

Shouldn’t we report this?

Behind the heads of the many people crowding around, a blinding circular light hung in the air. Every word they spoke and every gaze they cast burned and sharply scratched his skin. Hae-won dragged his backside backward, as if he would die if someone’s touch reached him. The rough, uneven gravel field tore at his calves and inflicted wounds that would become bruises, layering his agony.

Just as the pain, which felt as if his head were being flipped backward, began to squeeze his lungs, Gi-tae pushed through the surrounding crowd and knelt in front of him. The strength that gripped Hae-won’s arms—as he struggled wildly while scratching at his neck—released his grip from the skin that mirrored the color of blood.

“Breathe. Just breathe.”

Gi-tae pressed his knee down on the thigh that was pushing against the gravel to escape and held the cold-sweat-covered face with both hands. One thick palm covered the lips, while the other hand gently stroked the back of the head. Following Gi-tae, who demonstrated how to breathe slowly, Hae-won managed to calm his breathing and twisted his head. As soon as he escaped the palm, a murmur drenched in sobbing burst out in gasps.

“Huff……! I, I…… I saw him……. He, he came…….”

Hae-won could not find relief even with Gi-tae’s hand patting his shoulder, telling him to calm down. He had clearly locked eyes with those deep-colored pupils. A face he could never forget flickered before his eyes, refusing to disappear. It was those eyes. The eyes that had watched him silently while he lay prone on the bed, the eyes that had scanned him from head to toe, the eyes that had frequently demanded obedience—his gaze had clearly entangled with them.

It was a fleeting moment, but it was also a moment that provided certainty. At the same time, it was a reality he did not want to believe. Fearing that his suspicion might turn into conviction, he couldn’t even steal a glance at Seo Hae-young’s car, which was recognizable even from a distance.

“Just breathe for now. Let’s go home.”

As Hae-won mindlessly rambled, repeating only the words ‘saw’ and ‘came,’ Gi-tae waved his arms at the people who had gathered as if it were a spectacle, slid his hand under Hae-won’s armpits, and lifted him up from the gravel field. Hae-won fixed a blurred gaze on Gi-tae, who lifted the straw hat hanging around his neck and pressed it firmly down over his head while Hae-won trembled piteously. His strengthless knees could not properly support his weight and swayed from side to side.

“I, I saw…….”

Hwang, who had been lingering nearby wondering if something was wrong, came running over in surprise upon discovering Gi-tae. His vision became blurred and blotchy. Before Hwang could grab his arm, his exhausted body collapsed backward.

The retreating backs of the people, the deep blue sky, and the flashing sun passed by in sequence, and finally, someone’s legs were visible. Unlike the people who paused while returning to their places one by one, the direction of the feet planted on the ground was aimed exactly toward him. The neat hem of the trousers without a single wrinkle, the white ankle bone, and shoes that looked familiar…….

He wanted to look up, but his consciousness sank deep. Hwang’s call echoed in his ears before vanishing.

* * *

A cool breeze swept away the dizziness. Lying stretched out in the back of the Labo truck, Hae-won lifted his heavy eyelids, smelling the salty scent of the sea. The sight of Gi-tae, whose short hair fluttered in the wind, was the first thing he saw. Gi-tae’s actions as he massaged Hae-won’s stiff arms and legs felt natural, as if he had done it many times before. As Hae-won moved his fingers, which were slowly losing their stiffness, Gi-tae’s gaze, which had been fixed on his legs, moved up to his face. A scent, a mix of refreshing skin toner and sweat, brushed the tip of his nose.

“Your body.”

Hae-won blinked once at the blunt question, which seemed to ask if he was feeling better. As the hazy vision cleared, the coastal road that he had traveled between Anbyeok-ri and the valley for several days stretched out wide. Under the shade created by Gi-tae, who stood with his back to the sun, a bleak feeling rushed in as soon as he cleared his hoarse throat. Resting his head on a rolled-up towel, Hae-won glanced at Gi-tae, who was checking his wounds, and managed to open his mouth.

“Do I…… do this often?”

“Occasionally.”

Gi-tae answered calmly and wiped the dirty shins with a wet towel. His appearance, showing no sign of surprise or embarrassment, brought a sense of hollow resignation—of course it is so. The phenomenon that had tormented his daily life for over a year was not likely to disappear overnight.

He tried to push himself up from the rattling floor, but a rough hand pressed his forehead, laying him back down on the folded towel. Feeling guilty at the thought that Gi-tae had been pulled away from his busy work and that he had been offloading such a burdensome task until now, Hae-won offered a timid apology. Instead of gently soothing him by saying it was fine and not to worry, Gi-tae’s attitude of simply saying “it’s fine” and moving on didn’t feel particularly cold.

Sniffling with a nose that still held remnants of crying, Hae-won massaged his slightly trembling fingertips with his other hand. The tingling sensation would not go away. Moreover, those deep pupils he had encountered through the car window would not be forgotten.

Before losing consciousness, he thought he would see Seo Hae-young when he opened his eyes again. He thought he would be slapped across the cheek or kicked in the stomach in front of everyone. He thought that if he crawled through the gravel field in a miserable state, the man would grab him by the hair, laugh, and ask if he had enjoyed himself in the meantime, and then tell him it was time to go home. However, his expectations were neatly missed. He felt as if he had been hit on the back of the head. He didn’t know if he should call it a relief, or…….

Biting his lip, Hae-won called out to Gi-tae, who was tilting a water bottle to dampen the towel.

“Um, earlier……. Among the people earlier, there was someone tall, and, uh…….”

Though he had only spoken a few words, he was struck dumb. A question arose.

Could I have seen wrong? Was it really Seo Hae-young?

Once doubt crept in, it felt as if all the memories of the valley had been distorted. Judging by Gi-tae’s attitude, it seemed these seizures hadn’t happened only once or twice, and if he had gone through this process then as well, he couldn’t be certain of his memory from a moment ago. As he hesitated and couldn’t continue, Gi-tae spoke first.

“What is it.”

“……Was there a big, black car?”

In the end, the question took an unpredictable form. Gi-tae looked at him as if to ask how many such cars there were in the world, and Hae-won, hiding his embarrassed expression, turned his gaze toward the endless sea.

As the surface of the water, reflecting the sunlight, sparkled incessantly and emitted a dazzling light, the silhouette of a man standing on the sandy beach naturally formed in his mind. The afterimage of the past bloomed in succession—reaching out to brush away the sand on the elegantly extended spine beneath broad shoulders, only to withdraw the hand before touching. A man who was within reach if he only stretched out his hand, yet someone he could never reach even if he died; as the man slowly turned his head and those light brown pupils turned toward him. Hae-won, hurriedly biting the inside of his cheek until it hurt to escape the past, raised a trembling hand to cover his eyes. The sunlight was blocked, and an ambiguous darkness arrived.

“Just, like last time, someone might come looking for me……. Back then, he was a okay—relatively okay person…….”

A voice leaking fear escaped. It wasn’t a warning or a report, merely a lament.

“If they come looking, I think…… I’ll be like that again……. They might not look, or, uh……. They might come, but if they don’t look, then just…… I…….”

Incoherent words poured out in a heap. Since the speaker himself didn’t know what he was talking about, the listener’s brow furrowed slightly. Hae-won stared quietly through the gaps of his fingers at Gi-tae’s face, which looked as if he had something to say, and then laughed awkwardly. After his dry lips twitched a few times, he turned his head, saying, ‘I must have seen wrong. It’s nothing.’ Instead of questioning further today, Gi-tae patted his chest with an unskilled hand.

If Seo Hae-young had really come, then he wouldn’t be here like this now. It couldn’t be this peaceful and calm. Hae-won swallowed the unpleasantness and dismissed it as having seen wrong. Avoidance was always easier than facing the truth.

The moisture-laden wind made his whole body damp, and Hae-won remained trapped between an inexplicable disappointment and self-reproach. For the first time in a long while, the urge to inflict wounds on his forearms, thighs, and everywhere visible rushed back. The feeling of becoming abhorrent to himself, with no way out, lasted long, making the daytime feel like night.

* * *

From the next day, Hae-won did not go to the valley. He had gone out for about a week under the pretext of helping with the tent work, but after the chaos of yesterday, both Hwang and Gi-tae repeatedly told him to rest. Hae-won had no choice but to nod. Since the only thing he could do was simple ingredient preparation, the time spent splashing in the water was longer, and moreover, it was better not to have a laborer who had the potential to cause problems.

Thus, Hae-won returned to his monotonous routine. After having breakfast with Gi-tae and seeing him off, he swept and wiped the interior of the house, which was old but clean. Whenever the events of yesterday came to mind, he picked up the broom and crawled across the floor to mop. In the past, he would have looked for alcohol as soon as he opened his eyes, but following Gi-tae’s lifestyle of not touching alcohol, he had unintentionally entered a path of sobriety. In the current situation where no one called for him, cleaning was the only activity that could quiet his anxiety.

As he swept the yard and backyard and meticulously wiped the long veranda leading to the kitchen, beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Because the weather was sweltering, sweat seeped moistly into his skin with even the slightest movement. Wiping his forehead with his wrist, Hae-won stepped down from the veranda and squatted on the cement ledge surrounding the faucet in front of the wall. Looking down at his ankle, which still felt uncomfortable, he turned the faucet, and a cool stream of water burst forth.

After scrubbing the rag, which hadn’t become particularly dirty, and wringing out the moisture, he placed it on the ledge, and the late morning sun heated the crown of his head. He slipped off his slippers and slid his feet under the pouring water. Water droplets splashed up to his calves, which were glistening with ointment.

It was cool. Feeling the heat inside his body slowly cool down, he put his hands in as well, filling his palms with cool water and wetting his face and neck. His thin T-shirt became soaked and clung damply to his lean chest. Leaning his upper body back, Hae-won played with the flowing stream of water. The splashing droplets left stains on the wall where chicken blood had long refused to be erased.

Wiping the water droplets flowing down his chin with the back of his hand, Hae-won looked around the yard. When his gaze reached the always-open main gate, his narrowed eyes widened.

“……Oh.”

Hae-won turned off the faucet, which made a metallic sound every time he touched it, and slid his wet feet back into his slippers. Carefully crossing the yard so as not to get dirt on his feet, he bent his knees in front of the gate. It had been roughly an hour since he had swept the yard with a broom, but a piece of trash he hadn’t seen before was sitting there.

He quickly reached out and picked up the bundle of plastic, but what entered his palm was not trash, but a round chocolate. Turning the chocolate—wrapped in plastic with the ends twisted—this way and that, Hae-won tilted his head and looked over the wall. He scanned the steep slope and the narrow alley, but only the cicadas cried noisily; there was no sign of any person. Stepping back a pace, Hae-won stood blankly for a moment before turning around.

He placed the chocolate, which fit snugly in his palm, inside the refrigerator and closed the door. Assuming someone had dropped it, Hae-won hung the rag he had left at the water station on the clothesline and stepped onto the veranda. After looking back at the deserted yard for a moment, he entered his room.

While sitting in front of a fan of indeterminate age to dry his wet T-shirt, the memory of the chocolate evaporated along with the moisture. However, the next day, and then a week later, when he found the same chocolate in the yard, he could not simply ignore it.

That evening, as Gi-tae entered while wiping sweat with a towel around his neck, Hae-won ran to him in one breath, relaxed the strength in his aching legs, and held out his hand. Three chocolates he had collected so far sat neatly on his palm.

“This…….”

“What is it.”

“……Did you drop these?”

Gi-tae, who had hung his towel on the clothesline at the water station and even washed his face, shook his head with a look of complete ignorance. Hae-won’s expression mirrored that look as he looked down at the chocolates, which emitted a cool chill thanks to being kept in the refrigerator for fear they would melt in the hot weather. Following Gi-tae as he walked, Hae-won opened the conversation by saying they had occasionally been dropped in the yard, and the question returned asking if anyone else had visited. Letting out an “Ah,” Hae-won stepped out the gate, saying he would be back in a moment. Having a task for the first time in a while, his steps were slightly buoyant.

Naturally, he first went to find Hwang. Hwang, who was just unloading the remaining materials from the truck, craned his neck to examine the chocolate and shook his head.

“Isn’t that something kids eat? I don’t know. Try the supermarket.”

Having received his first rejection from Hwang, who had visited the house at the top of the hill most frequently, Hae-won dragged his feet toward the supermarket. Turning the alley that he often got confused by, he opened the door to the supermarket located by the wharf. However, the lady, who turned the plastic twist this way and that, did not give a positive answer.

“Hmm……. I don’t know. Foreign goods don’t come in here. Oh, right. Have you had dinner?”

Shaking his head at the lady, who gestured for him to eat if he hadn’t, Hae-won climbed the slope without having gained anything and counted on his fingers. Gi-tae, Hwang, the supermarket lady. There were only three people who were possibilities. There was no way Mr. Kim, who had treated him like a stranger since his rampage in winter, would have left them, and other villagers were at an age where even climbing the slope was a struggle, so there were no other options. It was a strange thing that the source was ambiguous, as if they hadn’t just fallen from the sky.

Having climbed the high stairs, Hae-won looked down at his palm in front of the blue gate. While he had been asking around, the cold chocolate had absorbed his body heat and was losing its round shape. Hwang had told him that if it came over the wall, it was his, so he should just eat it, but he couldn’t easily bring himself to do so.

As he fiddled with the rustling wrapper, standing with the evening glow at his back, Hae-won turned around at the sound of someone calling, “Child.” The grandmother of the house with the blue gate waved a wrinkled hand slightly through the open door. Bowing his head in greeting, Hae-won followed the gesture to come in and carefully stepped into the yard where a small wooden platform sat.

One of the older grandmothers among the residents of Anbyeok-ri sat on the wooden platform, clicking her tongue as she kneaded Hae-won’s forearm. Having grown accustomed to her touch—which had been fussing over his limbs since the moment they first met, wondering how he could be so thin—Hae-won gave a vacant smile before tentatively speaking up.

“This… I found it lying in the yard. I didn’t know who dropped it…”

When he held out the melted chocolate, the grandmother brought her cloudy eyes close and acknowledged it with a “That thing.” As he leaned down to bring his ear closer, her lips, curled inward due to missing teeth, bumped together, producing a mumbled sentence. Setting aside the heavy dialect, the words flowed out in a stream that was difficult to decipher. The only things Hae-won could make out were “haven’t seen,” “gone,” and “don’t know.”

Before he could carefully piece together the disconnected words, Gi-tae’s face popped up over the low fence. It seemed he had come looking for him since he hadn’t returned by dinner time. Hae-won hurried to stand up, and only after receiving a basket of potatoes from the grandmother, who was still tugging at his arm, was he able to leave the house with the blue gate. In the end, the three pieces of chocolate—which he neither ate nor found the owner of—clinked softly inside his pants pocket.