By Zephyria 
“Thinking back, I’ve ruined that guy’s life path quite a few times—broke up his marriage, dragged him into being gay,” Yoon Jun-young muttered with an indifferent expression. However, Seo Chi-young, who had grown reasonably close to him by now, could tell that the indifferent voice actually carried a tinge of melancholy.
“But… Mr. Kwon Kang-hee won’t feel regret or want to turn things back, or think like that.”
Yes, there was absolutely no way that would happen.
Seo Chi-young had always watched them from across the counter. He had seen them sitting side by side far more often than they had seen each other. He had seen Kwon Kang-hee always directing his gaze toward Yoon Jun-young. It was a look entirely different from the one he gave Seo Chi-young or Jang Ui-geon. Yes, it was an intense and steady gaze that surpassed even the way Jang Ui-geon used to look at Yoon Jun-young long ago.
Therefore, there was no way Kwon Kang-hee would regret it.
“I know,” Yoon Jun-young replied nonchalantly to Seo Chi-young’s words.
“If it were something he truly regretted, things wouldn’t have turned out like this in the first place. He would have lived happily with that woman and cut off all contact with me. …This is just guilt I feel alone. It has nothing to do with Kang-hee. …Though I won’t tell him, because he’d feel uncomfortable if he knew I felt sorry.”
Seo Chi-young simply nodded in silence at the inner thoughts Yoon Jun-young was calmly letting slip. A feeling that originated from another person, yet had nothing to do with them—a purely solitary emotion.
“…”
“I wonder how I should make an excuse, like saying I accidentally scratched myself in the lab. Even if he seems oblivious, his intuition is like a ghost’s,” Yoon Jun-young grumbled, yet he continued to eat the gopchang Seo Chi-young had given him with gusto. Facing this, Seo Chi-young remained silently quiet. Perhaps wanting to brush away this heavy silence, Yoon Jun-young spoke up as if remembering something. “Come to think of it.”
“Chi-young, I heard you met Ui-yoon recently. Ui-yoon was prying, asking me what kind of person you are.”
“Pardon?”
Seo Chi-young asked back, bewildered, not knowing who Yoon Jun-young was talking about. Consequently, Yoon Jun-young also looked bewildered.
“No? I heard you met at Ui-geon’s house a few days ago. I heard you even introduced yourselves.”
“…Uh… Ui-geon’s younger sister?”
After thinking for a moment, Seo Chi-young realized a step late and nodded. Then, he paused and gave Yoon Jun-young a curious look.
“Are you and his sister acquainted?”
“Ah, I’ve been in and out of that house since I was a kid. We’ve been close since we were so young I can barely remember it.”
Yoon Jun-young spoke as if it were nothing; indeed, he was close enough to Jang Ui-geon’s mother to call her Auntie. There was no way he wouldn’t know the siblings. Yoon Jun-young fell silent for a moment, lost in thought, before continuing.
“Ui-yoon is a good kid, though she’s a bit picky. If she acted unpleasant, it’s just because she worries about her brother, so don’t let it get to you.”
“Oh, no, it wasn’t like that…”
Seo Chi-young quickly waved his hand, recalling the sister who had stared at him with a scrutinizing gaze but hadn’t said anything particularly bad or shown a negative attitude. Of course, she hadn’t looked pleased or welcoming, but Seo Chi-young knew that few family members would be instantly thrilled by a man their brother introduced as his lover.
“Since Ui-geon had deep relationships with women until high school, and even after coming out, he’s bi so he still hung out with women occasionally, I think the family still has some lingering hopes. His parents still seem to want him to change his mind now and lead a steady life—get married and have children. Though they don’t explicitly say it anymore.”
“I see,” Seo Chi-young nodded. It wasn’t incomprehensible. In fact, far from not understanding—.
“…”
Seo Chi-young recalled the shadow that had been occupying a corner of his mind lately. It wasn’t a shadow serious or grand enough to cast a gloom over their relationship, but it was a small shadow that darkened a corner of his heart. …Yes, it was a shadow created because of Jang Ui-geon, but it wasn’t his fault; it was entirely Seo Chi-young’s own shadow.
After a long silence, Seo Chi-young spoke as if talking to himself.
“…I’ve never dated a woman… I’ve never even looked at a woman that way, so I don’t know for sure, but if Mr. Ui-geon wanted to, he could certainly get married and live a conventional life.”
A bitter smile faintly spread across his lips. Feeling Yoon Jun-young’s gaze on him, Seo Chi-young awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.
Jang Ui-geon had originally liked women. If he hadn’t wondered what it would be like with a man after falling for the man currently before him, Yoon Jun-young, he would likely be walking a perfectly normal life path by now.
After staring at Seo Chi-young for a moment, Yoon Jun-young muttered nonchalantly while eating gopchang, “I suppose so.”
“That guy’s relationships with women were quite complicated since he was young; Kang-hee and I used to joke that he might become a father before graduating high school.”
However, mid-sentence, Yoon Jun-young paused and frowned. “No, but I really think it’s a relief that Ui-geon met you, Chi-young. Truly.” Because those words, which sounded like an excuse, contained Yoon Jun-young’s sincere truth, Seo Chi-young smiled shyly.
“Yes, thank you. …But sometimes I think too. That perhaps it would have been better for Mr. Ui-geon to meet a good woman and live that way.”
Muttering as if to himself, Seo Chi-young saw Yoon Jun-young’s subtly frowning face and hurriedly shook his head, flustered.
“No, it’s nothing. Just, the thought suddenly occurred to me. Just, uh, seeing him standing with his sister—at first, when I didn’t realize she was his sister, I thought they looked so well-suited as a handsome man and a beautiful woman, so just because of that…”
However, he trailed off, stammering. For some reason, the more he spoke, the more it felt like he was being misunderstood. Seo Chi-young agonized with a troubled face, then sighed quietly toward Yoon Jun-young, who was patiently waiting for him to speak, and carefully chose his words.
“Really, it’s not because I have other thoughts. I don’t think Mr. Ui-geon doesn’t like me, or that I’ve ruined his chance to live happily with a woman. I know how much Mr. Ui-geon likes me. He… he likes me just a tiny bit less than I like him. That… that means he likes me immensely. …No, I’m not trying to say that… but, just…”
“…”
Yoon Jun-young’s gaze narrowed as he watched Seo Chi-young stammer, his face flushing. Yes, go on, tell me more—under that gaze, Seo Chi-young quickly continued.
“Just, I sometimes think about the things he would have enjoyed if he had taken the conventional path, things he’s essentially lost by being with me. …Seeing him with his sister like a matched pair, I thought he would have suited a lovely woman well, and lately, I’ve been thinking that maybe he actually would have been a better match with a woman—”
But Seo Chi-young suddenly stopped mid-sentence. With his mouth open, his eyes darted around, and his face instantly flushed bright red. Yoon Jun-young stared at him, waiting curiously for the rest of the story, but Seo Chi-young only rolled his eyes for a long time before closing his mouth, his face turning even redder.
“A-anyway, …I just have those thoughts. …It’s, it’s nothing much.”
“…”
Seeing that Seo Chi-young had no intention of explaining why his face had suddenly turned red, Yoon Jun-young stared at him for a while and then set his chopsticks down on the plate, having finished all the gopchang. He picked up his water glass instead and muttered.
“I actually thought that someone like Chi-young would suit meeting a good person and starting a normal family much better than Ui-geon would.”
“Pardon?”
“Because I think Chi-young would be a truly good father and a good husband… I talked about it with Ui-geon before, before you two became involved. That if Chi-young met someone gentle and kind like himself, he would live a very happy life.”
“I mean, Ui-geon is a decent guy too, not that he’s bad,” Yoon Jun-young added a half-hearted compliment to his friend and gave a light shrug.
“Well, in the end, that guy snatched you up before you could meet a gentle and kind person, so the game is already over. But maybe Ui-geon thought something similar. For a while… I mean, before he started dating you, he used to love calling you a ‘good friend’ and would talk about you whenever he met me or Kang-hee. He often said that someone like Chi-young should meet a similarly kind and stable person and live happily together. He said if he could help, he’d definitely help you—that he’d decided to help you.”
“Thinking back, that guy is hilarious. And then he just steals you for himself?” Yoon Jun-young muttered, frowning. He even grimaced as if the water tasted bitter.
Seo Chi-young listened blankly and then lowered his head with a shy expression.
He felt strangely conflicted.
He didn’t know whether to be happy or sad. He was very glad that he had been viewed favorably, praised, and worried about for a long time, but on the other hand, he felt a bit hurt that, even if it was a while ago, he had intended to help him get with someone else. However, after thinking it over, Seo Chi-young decided to conclude on the happy side. It was something that happened before he and the other man entered this relationship. Seeing Seo Chi-young nodding to himself with a joyful look, Yoon Jun-young added nonchalantly.
“So, Chi-young, don’t get depressed alone by having useless thoughts because of Ui-geon. People’s thoughts might be more similar than you’d expect. …Besides, that guy is more likely to sacrifice others to find his own happiness than to sacrifice himself for someone else’s, despite how he looks.”
“Not that he’s a bad guy, he’s actually quite decent,” Yoon Jun-young added once more, half-heartedly, as if giving a token compliment because they were friends. Seo Chi-young nodded and smiled, asking, “Is that so?”
Although he was grateful for the words of comfort, the unsettled feeling—a mix of apology, melancholy, and gloom—did not completely vanish, and his smile soon faded.
Kim Kyung-chul had an extremely pleased and proud expression. And Seo Chi-young was marveling at the mysterious workings of genetics.
The baby Kim Kyung-chul held in his arms was small in every way. The head—though large in proportion to the body—the hands and feet, everything was tiny. Nevertheless, everything looked like a miniature version of Kim Kyung-chul. The eyes, the nose, the mouth, and even the plumpness of the hands and feet.
“He looks even more like you than in the photos…”
As Seo Chi-young muttered in admiration, Kim Kyung-chul said happily, “Right?” Then, as if granting a great favor, he asked, “Do you want to hold him?” and held out the baby. Seo Chi-young, slightly flustered as the baby was already halfway toward him, took him. Holding the baby carefully with clumsy hands for fear of dropping him, Seo Chi-young held him in a very awkward, hesitant posture, but the baby didn’t seem to mind and looked at Seo Chi-young with bright eyes. Then, as if he liked Seo Chi-young, he leaned his tiny head snugly against his chest.
Seo Chi-young looked down at the baby with a very strange feeling. How to put it… that strange feeling, which was difficult to express… felt very good. Although he felt very anxious about holding this tiny, incredibly fragile life, the feeling of the small, warm, chubby baby leaning gently against him gave him an indescribable, heartwarming sensation.
“Hey, looks like our Hyeong-jin likes you.”
Seo Chi-young gave a shy smile to Kim Kyung-chul, who was playfully boasting, “Consider it an honor,” and looked down at the baby with a sense of wonder and excitement. Wow… he marveled quietly inside.
“He really looks a lot like Mr. Kim Kyung-chul.”
Jang Ui-geon, who was beside Seo Chi-young, muttered while peering at the baby. At that, Kim Kyung-chul immediately brightened and looked back at Jang Ui-geon, saying, “Right?”
Kim Kyung-chul’s pride was truly immense; he was so proud that he casually told Jang Ui-geon—who usually struggled to even start a conversation and seemed intimidated whenever they met at the shop—with a beaming smile, “My baby is quite handsome, isn’t he?”
“Give him to me. Let me try holding him too. …Is that okay?”
When Jang Ui-geon reached out to Seo Chi-young and asked Kim Kyung-chul, Kim Kyung-chul nodded readily with a very proud face, saying, “Uh, sure.” “Here you come,” Jang Ui-geon said, taking the baby with practiced hands. He looked down with a calm smile at the baby, whose eyes were wide as if surprised by the changing holders. “You look a lot like your dad,” he murmured, gently swaying the baby.
The baby didn’t cry, but he didn’t seem to like Jang Ui-geon that much; with a dissatisfied face, he twisted his tiny body to look around, and upon seeing Seo Chi-young, he reached out with a “woo, woo” sound. However, Jang Ui-geon didn’t seem to notice, simply smiling with a face that found the baby adorable, swaying him while turning his back to Seo Chi-young. Seo Chi-young, in turn, gazed silently at Jang Ui-geon rather than the baby.
The sight of Jang Ui-geon naturally holding and soothing the baby felt very unfamiliar. Yet, it wasn’t unexpected. Seo Chi-young had long thought that Jang Ui-geon liked children, as he would often give a light wave to young children he encountered on the street. Indeed, he liked animals like dogs and cats and was kind to the elderly. He was fundamentally a man who was gentle toward the weak.
…Perhaps that reason was mixed in, just a little bit, into why he started dating me…
“You seem to like babies. You’re good with him.”
While Seo Chi-young was lost in thought, Kim Kyung-chul spoke with admiration—though in reality, it sounded like surprise. At that, Jang Ui-geon, who was holding the baby in a stable posture and patting his bottom, gave a squinty-eyed smile.
“Ah… my niece/nephew is still young, so I’m used to looking after kids. Though people don’t usually see me that way.”
“Huh? No. I think you’d be a great father.”
When Kim Kyung-chul quickly praised him, Jang Ui-geon just smiled for a moment before answering, “Thank you.”
After a very long time, Kim Kyung-chul had dropped by unexpectedly holding a baby—obviously brought along to show him off—with the unmistakable face of a doting father, enthusiastically bragging about the baby to Jang Ui-geon, whom he usually found difficult to talk to. Jang Ui-geon nodded, looking at the baby with eyes full of laughter.
Seo Chi-young watched the two—no, three—of them sitting side by side in harmony, then moved when he heard a customer calling from inside the shop. As he returned to the counter and lit the grill upon the request for another plate of gopchang, Seo Chi-young watched them sharing everyday conversation—though more than half of it was Kim Kyung-chul’s bragging. He responded with a word or two whenever they spoke to him.
“…”
Watching Jang Ui-geon, who still occasionally looked at the baby with laughing eyes even after handing him back to Kim Kyung-chul, Seo Chi-young lowered his head.
Yes, it was times like this. Even knowing it was absolutely nothing to blame himself for, he became depressed thinking about the things Jang Ui-geon would have been enjoying by now if he had taken the conventional path.
Of course, the fact that Jang Ui-geon had begun having relationships with men had nothing to do with Seo Chi-young, and he had never once harbored negative feelings about the fact that he liked Seo Chi-young, nor that Seo Chi-young liked him. Nor was it that he usually felt as if a shadow were cast over his mood. Most of the time, he spent his hours with Jang Ui-geon with a joyful and peaceful heart.
Just occasionally. Only occasionally. That was when he became conscious of the shadow.
While Seo Chi-young was stir-frying the tripe to serve the customers and replacing empty water bottles, Kim Kyung-chul seemed to decide it was time to leave and stood up while holding the baby. He hadn’t been there long—barely twenty or thirty minutes—but Kim Kyung-chul looked slightly anxious, as if he had stayed far too long, and muttered, “Oh boy, my missus is going to be angry when I get home, asking where I went with the kid.”
Despite the prospect of his wife’s anger, the rookie doting father, whose face showed he couldn’t bear the urge to show off his baby, soon said his goodbyes to Seo Chi-young and then to Jang Ui-geon with a very gratified expression before turning to leave. Jang Ui-geon gazed blankly at Kim Kyung-chul as he walked away in a good mood, gently rocking the baby, as if lost in thought, and Seo Chi-young watched him quietly. Before long, Jang Ui-geon turned back to Seo Chi-young. When their eyes met, he gave a thin smile.
“I thought it had been a while since he last visited, but I didn’t expect him to bring the baby. Kim Kyung-chul is quite bold, bringing a baby only a few months old out by himself. My younger brother wouldn’t have taken his child out alone until they were over a year old.”
Jang Ui-geon spoke with a pleasant expression, tilting his water glass. Seo Chi-young also smiled, his eyes crinkling as he looked in the direction where Kim Kyung-chul had disappeared from sight.
“He hasn’t visited in a while, but we’ve kept in touch occasionally, and every time we do, it’s all about the baby. I think he’s completely smitten these days.”
“It seems so. Today he was quite the dot… ah, my mistake.”
Jang Ui-geon stopped mid-sentence and laughed awkwardly. Seo Chi-young burst out laughing. As I thought, I’m not the only one who thinks so.
“When a baby is born, friends tend to become less frequent than before… Still, it seems Kim Kyung-chul contacts you often, Chi-young.”
Jang Ui-geon gave Seo Chi-young a smiling gaze. Seo Chi-young smiled and replied, “I suppose so.”
They were old friends. Of course, they weren’t as old as Jang Ui-geon, Yoon Jun-young, or Kwon Kang-hee, but they had known each other and stayed in touch since high school. There were a few years in between when Seo Chi-young was overwhelmed and Kim Kyung-chul was busy, during which they couldn’t even contact each other two or three times a year, but the connection had never been severed.
“He’s one of my most precious friends, a handful. I’ll be seeing him for a long time to come. …Who knows, maybe later on, just as Kyung-chul said, that child will grow up and come to this shop as a customer.”
Although Kim Kyung-chul’s hope—that his son should come here to drink once he reached high school—wasn’t exactly admirable, it was a happy wish for Seo Chi-young. The idea of seeing precious people for a long time was always a joyful and overwhelming hope.
Yes. Just like the words saying he would see the man sitting before him for fifty years, or perhaps even longer.
Jang Ui-geon silently watched Seo Chi-young, who lowered his head, his face flushing with sudden embarrassment as he recalled the old memory. Then, he set down his cup and spoke.
“I see. I wondered how things were since it seemed you two hadn’t been in touch much lately. …He’s a good friend.”
To Jang Ui-geon, who was also a classmate but still maintained a certain distance from Kim Kyung-chul, Seo Chi-young nodded in agreement, saying, “That’s true.” Then, he tilted his head, thinking, “Oh…”
Come to think of it, that was true. They had all been classmates in the same room at the same school. Despite that, they didn’t speak casually to one another. As for himself and Jang Ui-geon, though he couldn’t pinpoint a specific reason, it was somewhat understandable. Since they had continued to use formal language for a while after reuniting, it felt awkward to suddenly change it, so they had just stayed that way. But in Kim Kyung-chul’s case, it was a bit strange. Jang Ui-geon was sociable and not intimidated by strangers; even if he didn’t remember him, the moment he found out they were classmates, it wouldn’t have been odd for him to say, “Oh, was that so? Long time no see,” and drop the formalities. Yet, he maintained a polite attitude toward Kim Kyung-chul.
“…Next time you meet Kyung-chul, why don’t you try speaking more comfortably?”
Seo Chi-young spoke cautiously, wondering if they were using formal language out of discomfort because he was caught in the middle. For a moment, Jang Ui-geon looked puzzled. He had a look that said—Why would I?—as if he had heard something completely unexpected, but when his eyes met the blinking Seo Chi-young, he soon wore a nonchalant smile.
“Yes, maybe later.”
Though the words were an affirmation, Jang Ui-geon spoke in a way that brushed it off, as if he had no real intention of doing so. Seeing this, Seo Chi-young scratched his head, feeling slightly bewildered. However, since it wasn’t his business how anyone got along with whom, he kept his mouth shut.
“But if you and Kim Kyung-chul ever meet up just the two of you, please invite me too. So we can all meet and talk.”
Whether he was feeling a bit awkward after implicitly stating he wouldn’t be switching to casual speech, or if he truly meant they should all meet and get close, Jang Ui-geon told Seo Chi-young with a smile, and Seo Chi-young nodded back with a smile.
“Yes. …But he really hasn’t been coming by much lately. Today was a surprise visit, not a planned one, so I don’t know when that will be.”
“Is that so?” Jang Ui-geon smiled casually, as if it didn’t matter.
“He used to drop by suddenly late at night saying he wanted a drink, but I think he’s developed a sense of responsibility since the baby was born. He’s almost quit drinking and seems to be living more diligently.”
“Responsibility…” Jang Ui-geon muttered, as if thinking for a moment, then nodded readily.
“Indeed, I see many such cases around me. I suppose that’s what happens when there’s a child. Of course, some people develop a sense of responsibility while others don’t at all. …You would definitely be the former, Chi-young.”
“And quite extremely so,” Jang Ui-geon added playfully with a laugh. Seo Chi-young mumbled awkwardly, “Uh… do I?” While it was unlikely that a child would ever enter his own life, thinking about it, he felt that might be true. Seo Chi-young scratched his head sheepishly and glanced at Jang Ui-geon. He suddenly muttered to the man, who was lost in thought with a smile on his face.
“You like children too, Ui-geon.”
“Pardon?”
Jang Ui-geon raised an eyebrow and looked at Seo Chi-young. When their eyes met, he smiled readily and nodded, saying, “Well, I do.” Tapping his more-than-half-empty water glass, he thought for a moment and then suddenly spoke with a smile.
“Actually, I thought about adopting.”
Seo Chi-young’s eyes widened at the unexpected revelation. To the blinking Seo Chi-young, he gave a smiling look with his eyes.
“They say it’s realistically difficult for a single person to bring in a child in our country, but if you look into it well, it’s not impossible. I thought about it quite seriously…”
Trailing off slowly, he paused for a moment before concluding shortly, “I gave up on it.” Seo Chi-young hesitated, unable to find the words immediately, but asked clumsily, “Oh, why?” Instead of answering, Jang Ui-geon gazed blankly at Seo Chi-young. He stared intently at Seo Chi-young, who was cautiously meeting those eyes that held an unreadable thought, then let out a calm sigh and smiled.
“Just this and that. I figured it wouldn’t work out.”
As Jang Ui-geon vaguely brushed off the topic, Seo Chi-young started to say something more but closed his mouth again. Somehow, he felt it was because of himself. It might not be a problem for him alone, but bringing a child into a life where two men live together was, no matter how one looked at it, unreasonable. No matter how much he liked children.
Seo Chi-young looked down at his toes, feeling a bit depressed.
To such a Seo Chi-young, Jang Ui-geon spoke with a smile, “By the way.”
“The baby really looks a lot like Kim Kyung-chul. While I was looking at the child, I kept thinking about what Kim Kyung-chul was like in high school, and it made me smile.”
Seo Chi-young blinked at the sudden comment, then gave a faint laugh. “That’s true, they really look alike,” he agreed. However, recalling that Jang Ui-geon had once said, ‘I vaguely remember being in the same class, but I don’t remember him well,’ Seo Chi-young tilted his head ambiguously.
“I thought you said you didn’t remember high school very well.”
“Yes, but it was very easy to imagine the midpoint between that child and the current Kim Kyung-chul. The father and son are so similar.”
Indeed, when Seo Chi-young first saw the baby’s photo, he felt as if the child’s growth process was naturally drawn before him. In the transition from a newborn to Kim Kyung-chul’s current appearance, the image of him from high school was included, and Seo Chi-young had smiled with nostalgia.
“That’s true,” Seo Chi-young smiled, and Jang Ui-geon gazed at him blankly. After smiling in silence for a while, Seo Chi-young realized Jang Ui-geon was staring intently, examining every detail of his eyes, nose, mouth, and face, and slowly stopped smiling. Instead, he blinked with a look of curiosity.
“…?”
Jang Ui-geon continued to meet his gaze, watching Seo Chi-young’s face grow redder and redder, before letting out a chuckle.
“I just felt a bit sad that I won’t be able to see a child of yours.”
Seo Chi-young froze. To him, Jang Ui-geon continued, his voice like a sigh of genuine regret.
“I thought that if you had a baby who looked just like you, like Kim Kyung-chul does, I’d be able to trace back my memories of what you were like in high school.”
What he had been like in those high school days, of which only vague memories remained.
Seo Chi-young remembered every single detail of Jang Ui-geon’s appearance vividly, but Jang Ui-geon did not. He suddenly remembered a time when Jang Ui-geon had said in passing, “I envy you, Chi-young. Since you still have those memories,” in a truly regretful tone.
“But since there’s no way you’ll ever have a child in your life, it can’t be helped.”
“Since I can’t give birth and neither can you,” Jang Ui-geon said, shrugging his shoulders in easy resignation.
Seo Chi-young blinked at Jang Ui-geon, then slowly lowered his head. It took a few seconds for the words to fully register in his mind. As he chewed over the words echoing in his brain, somehow—he didn’t know if it was the right situation—he felt… a bit happy. He was happy because Jang Ui-geon’s words assumed that there would only be each other in their futures, and so Seo Chi-young muttered, “I guess so…” and couldn’t lift his head for a while.
What should I do.
I’m happy. Actually, not just a little, but very happy.
Jang Ui-geon likely knew it too. Even if he didn’t consciously think about it, he knew that if he returned to a more conventional path, things would be smoother and he could obtain the things he desired more easily. However, he had no intention of taking that path. From the very foundation, his life was predicated on the existence of Seo Chi-young. Just as Seo Chi-young, while feeling a sliver of apology toward him, firmly refused to erase that premise.
Suddenly, the small shadow that had occupied a corner of his heart seemed to fade. The dark sigh became considerably lighter.
“…It would have been nice if we had met in high school.”
Seo Chi-young looked up at Jang Ui-geon, who was muttering as if to himself. He was muttering this while drinking barley tea with a nonchalant face, just like always, but a faint trace of bitterness lingered on his lips. Seo Chi-young felt poignantly from the regretful tone of his voice that these words hadn’t just occurred to him, but were thoughts Jang Ui-geon had harbored for a long time.
It would have been nice if we had met then.
If I had known you since then.
It would have been wonderful if we had built up time together, sharing memories from that point on.
“…”
Seo Chi-young had also had such thoughts. When Jang Ui-geon talked with Kwon Kang-hee or Yoon Jun-young, and Seo Chi-young sat there listening to their stories, he would occasionally think the same. He wished he could have seen the version of Jang Ui-geon they were talking about. Jang Ui-geon in elementary school. Jang Ui-geon in middle school. Beyond high school, in college. After graduating college. The year before last. And last year.
There were so many moments of Jang Ui-geon’s time that Seo Chi-young did not know.
Although he knew that one person cannot share every single moment of another’s time, he wondered how wonderful it would have been to know even just one more instant. Seo Chi-young had thought this countless times, imagining and recalling the images of Jang Ui-geon that appeared in their stories.
And now.
Thinking that perhaps Jang Ui-geon had felt the same way, Seo Chi-young looked at him with wide eyes.
—Surprisingly, people’s thoughts might all be similar.
The words Yoon Jun-young had once said suddenly came to mind.
Yes. That might be true.
Suddenly, a warm, pleasant heat spread through his chest.
There was one fact that Seo Chi-young knew for certain.
Jang Ui-geon definitely liked him, and that feeling was likely just a tiny bit less than the heart with which he liked the other man. And Seo Chi-young knew that this meant he truly, truly liked him.
“Still… I think it might be good that it’s now,” Seo Chi-young spoke softly. Jang Ui-geon raised an eyebrow and looked at Seo Chi-young in silence.
“It’s a bit much to call it… fate, but I’ve thought that perhaps there is a right time for people to meet.”
Seo Chi-young muttered his words haltingly, slightly averting his gaze from that kind look—one he would probably never get used to—that still made his heart race.
It was several years ago. On a night that was exceptionally cold even though it wasn’t yet the freezing season, Kim Kyung-chul had suddenly visited. He, who always let Seo Chi-young know first whenever there was news, whether happy or sad, told him then that he was the first to know. That a wedding date had been set.
Seo Chi-young had blinked his eyes for a moment and then sincerely congratulated him. Truly happily, wishing that he would be happy from then on. He thanked him with a shy yet joyful and happy face, and as always, they drank the alcohol he had brought in one hand. When they were drunk enough to feel good, Kim Kyung-chul muttered, “It’s a real relief, it really worked out.”
‘If I had met Hye-mi a year earlier, things might not have turned out like this with her.’
He spoke the name of the woman who would soon be his bride, recalling a faint old memory alongside unhidden happiness.
Kim Kyung-chul had someone he had dated for quite a long time since graduating high school. However, through the numerous events of several years, the relationship—which had become tattered and torn, and which he had tried to maintain by stitching it back together time and again—ultimately did not work out. The person he met several months later was the woman he ended up marrying.
The people who are meant to meet eventually meet.
The people who are meant to be together will find a way.
Amidst such words, Kim Kyung-chul shook his head with a bitter smile. He said, “I don’t think that’s always the case.”
If he had met her a few months earlier—back when the relationship with his ex-lover was still tenuously clinging on.
Or if he had met her a few months later—if there had been a gap of time where who knows what might have happened.
Kim Kyung-chul had said, tilting his glass, that his relationship with her might not have led to this result. After those words, he looked at Seo Chi-young with a flushed, drunken face and smiled.
‘With you too, if we hadn’t met in high school and had met somewhere else now, I don’t know if we would have become this close. We might have just been acquaintances. …It’s a real relief. That we met then.’
With a face so drunk that he probably wouldn’t even remember what he had said the next day, Kim Kyung-chul repeated it several times. It worked out, it worked out. It worked out that I met you, it worked out that I met her, it worked out that I met that guy, and that guy…