By Zephyria 
Jang Ui-geon, who had been standing still as if in a trance, stared blankly as Seo Chi-young struggled to strip the clothes off the limp body of Yoon Jun-young. Only when Chi-young’s hands touched Jun-young’s bare skin did Ui-geon seem to snap back to his senses and approach. He silently began to assist Chi-young.
After stripping away all the wet clothes and wiping the moisture off with dry towels, they laid him in a bed that had been pre-warmed. Fearing that sweat would make things worse, they wrapped his naked body tightly in blankets before quietly closing the bedroom door and stepping out.
Seo Chi-young carefully peeked around the house and found a laundry basket, tossed in the wet clothes and towels, and returned to the living room. There, Jang Ui-geon was standing in silence. He seemed lost in thought, or perhaps out of it; even as Chi-young approached him, he didn’t even glance over, staring only at the floor.
“….Ui-geon-ssi, take your clothes off too. You’ll catch a cold.”
Jang Ui-geon was also drenched from carrying Yoon Jun-young, who had felt like a heavy lump of wet cotton. He was in worse shape than Seo Chi-young, who had tilted the umbrella toward the other two, leaving only one of his own shoulders soaked.
Jang Ui-geon, who hadn’t budged even when spoken to as if his mind were elsewhere, only murmured, “Ah, clothes… right,” when Seo Chi-young quietly began to undo his shirt buttons. He then took off the shirt himself. Once the wet clothes were off and he had dried himself, the room was heated enough that he didn’t feel cold even without a shirt.
“Thank you,” Jang Ui-geon said as Seo Chi-young took the shirt and hung it over the back of a chair, but his tone was somehow absent, his gaze fixed on empty air.
“Give it to me.”
Speaking in a low voice, Jang Ui-geon held out his hand. His expressionless face, betraying no hint of what he was thinking, looked as if it wouldn’t be strange if it turned into a terrifying monster the very next moment.
After a brief hesitation, Seo Chi-young handed him the phone, where the name Kwon Kang-hee was blinking on the screen. Jang Ui-geon glanced at the screen for a moment and answered.
“Hello.”
“……Why are you answering? Did Jun-young go to you?”
“Ah.., yes, he’s sleeping now. He couldn’t answer because he was with me. I’m sorry. But what’s going on?”
Jang Ui-geon’s voice was equally devoid of emotion. It was a voice Chi-young had never heard before; it didn’t even sound like Jang Ui-geon. The low, sunken voice was like deep, cold water whose bottom could not be seen.
On the other end of the line, Kwon Kang-hee seemed to sense this as well and fell silent for a moment. His voice also grew low.
“I’d like you to put Jun-young on.”
“He’s asleep right now, so that’s a bit difficult. He probably fell asleep from exhaustion, so he won’t wake up even if I try. Tell me. I’ll pass it on.”
“……This is something I must tell him directly.”
“You said you’d keep your distance from Jun-young. I’ll help. Just tell me, and I’ll deliver the message.”
“….Jang Ui-geon. This is between me and Jun-young. It’s not your business.”
“It is my business.”
For the first time, Jang Ui-geon seemed to smile faintly. However, there wasn’t a shred of warmth in that smile as it slowly distorted.
“Before, Kang-hee, you joked about me. You said I’m the kind of guy who doesn’t know what he’ll do if he snaps. —Right. I think I’m snapping. I’m sick of this now. I’m exhausted by this state of affairs. Just biting my lip and watching that bastard suffer.”
“Jang Ui-geon.”
“Don’t worry about him anymore. No matter what I do. Just watch from where you are. Ah, right. As a wedding gift, I’ll make sure Jun-young doesn’t bother you anymore. I’ll keep him tied to my side by force, so that he won’t even have the luxury to think about you. Well, Jun-young said he’d never see you again anyway. It worked out well, Kwon Kang-hee.”
“Jang Ui-geon, you—”
But before he could finish, Jang Ui-geon hung up without listening to whatever was being shouted on the other end. He went as far as pulling out the battery and throwing it away.
Contrary to that cold and calm voice, the phone he violently slammed against the wall shattered with a loud crash. Amidst the fragments scattering in all directions, Jang Ui-geon stood motionless, like a statue.
Tuk. A small piece of a component hit Seo Chi-young’s fingertip and fell. It didn’t hurt, but he reflexively flinched. However, what entered Chi-young’s vision first was Jang Ui-geon’s hand, faintly bleeding from a scratch caused by a flying shard.
“….Are you okay?”
Seo Chi-young asked quietly.
What was okay? —Everything.
The feelings he had for Yoon Jun-young, the feelings Yoon Jun-young had for that man, and the feelings he had for that man—the distorted relationships within these tangled emotions.
Jang Ui-geon, who had been standing with his body turned slightly away from Seo Chi-young, flinched faintly. After a moment of silence, he slowly turned back; his desolate gaze was as cold and sharp as a blade.
“If I’m okay, or if I’m not, what difference does it make?”
The tone that spat out the words was chilling, as if he would tear apart anything next to him. Dark, crimson emotions surged within that voice.
Seo Chi-young found himself shutting his mouth. He stared blankly at Jang Ui-geon without even blinking his large eyes.
His heart sank, as if cold water had been poured into his chest. It wasn’t because Jang Ui-geon had snapped at him. It was because the man before him felt incredibly foreign. A sensation so unfamiliar that a flash of fear momentarily brushed through his heart.
“……”
Soon, Seo Chi-young realized it was because the man had lost his composure.
Jang Ui-geon had always been adept at managing his emotions. Even in the most dire situations, he usually maintained a composed smile without any agitation. Now, he stood at a dead end, unable to don even the mask he used to package himself.
And Seo Chi-young could do nothing for him.
It was as he said. Whether he was okay or not, nothing changed.
Seo Chi-young stared at him and slowly nodded. Seeing Chi-young murmur, “I see,” Jang Ui-geon’s expression crumbled as if he suddenly realized something, but Chi-young didn’t notice. Chi-young looked down at his feet for a moment before looking up. He happened to be standing here, but he was an outsider, not someone belonging between them. This was not a place for him.
It seemed better to go back. No, there was no reason to stay.
“I’m sorry. …..Um, I’ll be going now.”
As Seo Chi-young bowed his head and turned to leave, he suddenly noticed Jang Ui-geon’s shirt hanging on the chair. Come to think of it, he would have to walk quite a bit to get to where he had parked his car.
Seo Chi-young hesitated for a moment and looked back. To Jang Ui-geon, who was standing still with a somewhat anxious face, Seo Chi-young rubbed the back of his neck and spoke.
“Uh.., um, it seemed like you didn’t bring an umbrella, so if you don’t mind using mine, I’ll leave it here. My house is close…”
After saying it, Seo Chi-young felt a bit embarrassed remembering that his umbrella was just a worn-out plastic one. Still, thinking it was better than nothing, he quickly said, “I’ll be going first,” and headed toward the entrance.
However, as he slid his feet into his soaked shoes and turned, a troubled voice approached from behind, hesitating.
“—Chi-young-ssi. ….I’m sorry. Please don’t go.”
Seo Chi-young, who had been reaching for the doorknob, turned around awkwardly. Jang Ui-geon was standing in the hallway. The expressionless, chillingly cold face had vanished, replaced by a look as complex and troubled as his voice.
After facing him for a moment, Seo Chi-young mumbled, “Uh, but,” and Jang Ui-geon walked over and stood before him.
“I was wrong. I… I just snapped for a moment, and I did it without thinking. I didn’t mean to take it out on you, Chi-young-ssi. I’m really… sorry.”
Uh.., Seo Chi-young looked at Jang Ui-geon with a troubled expression, but seeing him reach out, he hesitantly turned back. As he stepped back into the entryway, Jang Ui-geon took Seo Chi-young’s hand with a slightly relieved face and pulled him.
The thought that he had left his shop open and needed to hurry back flashed through his mind, but Jang Ui-geon’s expression as he sat on the living room sofa was a mixture of relief, darkness, and fatigue. Thus, Seo Chi-young ended up sitting quietly beside him as he was pulled.
For a while, he was silent. After remaining quiet as if lost in thought, he very slowly turned to look at Seo Chi-young, who had been watching him silently.
“….I’m like a fool, aren’t I? Being childish, like a kid.”
Suddenly, Jang Ui-geon spoke with a bitter smile that sounded like a sigh. That air was different from a moment ago; it was the Jang Ui-geon that Seo Chi-young knew well, so Chi-young’s heart calmed down a bit.
“I know it’s not something I should have said to Kang-hee. What can I say to someone who says they hate me? Even if I vent my anger in such a pathetic way, the situation doesn’t change, and I just end up looking ridiculous.”
Seo Chi-young said nothing. He simply listened to his words. Jang Ui-geon also didn’t seem to expect an answer, falling back into silence after finishing his sentence.
The sound of rain was heard distantly beyond the tightly closed windows. It didn’t seem like it would stop for a while.
It was a night where the rain-soaked air felt heavy. When this night ended, someone would welcome a happy day, and someone would face a miserable one. And for some reason, Seo Chi-young felt that the new day would be as gloomy for him as that rain.
Suddenly, a low laugh was heard. With a laugh mixed with a sigh and self-derision, Jang Ui-geon murmured.
“…Still, that was the first time I confessed seriously.”
In that rain, while running with a feverish body on his back, while listening to those painful cries, Jang Ui-geon had spoken the feelings he had long treated as a joke with sincerity for the first time. And for the first time, he received a sincere answer. That he was sorry.
“I knew. I knew that he would never fall into my hands. I’ve known it for a very long time.”
Jang Ui-geon leaned back slightly, resting against the sofa. He leaned his neck against the backrest, tilted his head back, and closed his eyes.
He looked exhausted. Seo Chi-young stared blankly at the face of Jang Ui-geon, who was exhaling quiet breaths with his eyes closed.
Though his body, stripped of wet clothes, was now dry and his damp hair was mostly dry, for some reason, Jang Ui-geon looked like a young animal sitting alone in the rain. Not knowing where to go, not knowing that he should go, just curled up in that spot in utter helplessness. He looked like someone who deserved to have even a worn-out plastic umbrella held over him.
“……..”
Seo Chi-young looked down at his own hand. He wanted to gently place his hand over the closed eyelids, but since he wasn’t a young animal, he couldn’t pet him.
Seo Chi-young stared at the man with closed eyes. He had seen him like this a long time ago.
How was it then?
Even without thinking long, he could recall the memory as vividly as if it were yesterday.
The gaze looking down from a window. The eyes that stared blankly upon finding the person he wanted to see. The shadow that briefly crossed his expression, showing whatever he had seen there.
Had he looked that exhausted back then too?
He had not.
Seo Chi-young saw the flow of time there.
“……Even if he doesn’t fall into your hands.”
At some point, Seo Chi-young spoke softly. Jang Ui-geon, leaning on the sofa with his eyes closed, didn’t move, as if asleep. However, the eyelashes of his closed eyes flickered slightly.
“I liked it. Just watching, even without exchanging a single word. ….Just as it was, those were shining days.”
Everything was beautiful back then. That thought only occurred to him later. Only after those days of mundane daily life with no particular events had passed did he look back on that time as a fond memory.
“……”
Seo Chi-young lowered his head, feeling a bit awkward. Only after speaking did he realize it was an embarrassing thing to say with the person himself right in front of him. Especially since the man himself knew of Seo Chi-young’s feelings.
But it was Seo Chi-young’s sincerity, reflecting on that time without any expectation or ulterior motive, and Jang Ui-geon would know that.
Jang Ui-geon didn’t move an inch. He simply continued to breathe quietly, eyes closed, slumped in exhaustion as if asleep.
Seo Chi-young stared at him. He looked at Jang Ui-geon so intently that he felt grateful the man’s eyes were closed. He thought that if the man had been awake, he wouldn’t have been able to stare like this.
His face, which had become slightly sharper than in high school when he was between a child and an adult, looked somewhat cold with his eyes closed. It was surprising that just by bringing a tiny smile to the corners of his eyes and mouth, he could have such a cheerful and refreshing impression.
…..Is he asleep?
The sound of his breathing, barely audible, was regular. Even though he was staring right in front of him, there was no sign of him opening his eyes. Perhaps he really was asleep.
“………”
Seo Chi-young reached out. Very lightly, he touched the short hairs scattered on the sofa. Still, Jang Ui-geon did not open his eyes. Seo Chi-young withdrew his hand on his own. And he stared at him blankly.
His body, wearing only loose pants and shirtless, looked strong enough to remain unfazed anywhere he went, but perhaps because of the sound of the rain or a shadowed heart, he looked somewhat cold. He thought it would be good to cover him with a blanket.
Come to think of it, when he was peeking around the house looking for the laundry basket, he thought he saw a blanket in the small room next to the entrance.
Seo Chi-young quietly stood up and turned toward the entrance. However—
“I told you not to go.”
Before he had taken a few steps, a low voice was heard from behind. When he turned with an “Uh,” he saw Jang Ui-geon looking at him, head turned while leaning on the sofa. Watching the hand lightly patting the spot beside him as if telling him to come over, Seo Chi-young awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.
“Uh.., um, I think there was a blanket in the inner room, so I was going to bring it… because I thought you’d be cold.”
Jang Ui-geon, who had been staring at Seo Chi-young, gave a short laugh. He waved his hand lightly as if telling him to go and come back. Seeing him turn his head back and close his eyes, Seo Chi-young turned and entered the room next to the entrance.
In the room, which seemed to be used as a storage room with only a wardrobe and chest of drawers, a blanket was draped over a chair. Picking up the blanket, Seo Chi-young thought, But I left the shop open, I really should go now.
Since Yoon Jun-young was lying sick, Jang Ui-geon would likely stay here until he woke up, so Seo Chi-young felt he could leave after bringing the blanket to him. There was only one thing: he was concerned about what Jang Ui-geon was thinking with his eyes closed, and what kind of emotions he was chewing over.
“……..”
With a quiet sigh, Seo Chi-young held the blanket and took a step to go back to the living room.
It was then.
Bang! There was the sound of the front door opening. The sound of the rain, which had been pouring, grew closer through the open door and then receded as the door closed.
Seo Chi-young, who had been about to leave the room, instinctively slowed his pace. Before his eyes, the figure of a man walking firmly down the entrance hallway passed by. It was Kwon Kang-hee.
As if he had come in a hurry without caring about the rain, raindrops were scattered on his shoulders and hair.
Jang Ui-geon, who had opened his eyes and lifted his head, sounding puzzled by the sound of the door, saw him. Kwon Kang-hee, who stopped in front of the living room, also looked at Jang Ui-geon.
Kwon Kang-hee’s gaze turned cold as he looked at Jang Ui-geon sitting languidly on the sofa, shirtless. Having burst in with a terrifying, sharp momentum from the moment he entered, he soon shifted his gaze away from Jang Ui-geon and headed toward the bedroom.
Flinging the door open and entering the bedroom without hesitation, Kwon Kang-hee looked down at Yoon Jun-young, who was buried in the bed and wrapped in blankets.
“Yoon Jun-young. Wake up.”
The low voice dropped over him. Yoon Jun-young, who had been sleeping as if unconscious, did not move. Without another word, Kwon Kang-hee reached out to him without hesitation.
However.
Kwon Kang-hee, who was about to pull back the blanket and grab Yoon Jun-young’s arm, paused. Yoon Jun-young, faintly opening his eyes and vaguely regaining consciousness, looked up at Kwon Kang-hee with vacant eyes, not yet fully awake. And Kwon Kang-hee looked down at Yoon Jun-young, who was inside the blanket without a single stitch of clothing, as if he had been struck by lightning.
“….Kang, hee.. ….uh..?”