#15

“Please give me more too.”

Tae-heun hurriedly slurped the remaining noodles into his mouth and made the request. The man cast a gentle glance at Tae-heun, as if he were a child.

The noodles and broth were refilled, and cucumber and young radish kimchi were brought back. The man, who quickly prepared a new bowl, placed it in front of the child and Tae-heun.

“Take your time. There’s plenty.”

Even though Tae-heun heard the man’s words, he fumbled with his chopsticks in a hurry.

He had never remembered eating anything so greedily in his life. He was picky about food, but he always restrained himself. He was so strict with his body that he would rather choose to starve than fill his stomach with carbohydrates.

He learned martial arts, pretending to be a martial artist even though he wasn’t one. It was the bare minimum he had to do to protect himself in a place full of thugs. He always held back, took care of himself, and restrained himself. What good was that? Tae-heun lifted the bowl of cold noodles and drank all the broth.

He thought about doing the dishes, but the man strongly discouraged him.

“Please sit down. I’ll treat your foot first.”

Forced by the man’s insistence, he sat on the living room floor. He bent his knees and extended his legs forward. The child knelt beside Tae-heun and looked closely at his wound.

“Is it rotten?”

The child asked.

“It’s not rotten. It’s just a blister.”

“It’s red.”

“That’s because I put on red medicine.”

“It looks like it’s rotten.”

The child was quite serious, and Tae-heun couldn’t help but laugh. The man appeared and, in his usual slow and gentle tone, said, “Then you can’t use it.” It was a remark that didn’t make any sense.

The fan made a loud noise as it blew air. A gentle drowsiness began to creep in.

The man looked at Tae-heun’s foot with concern.

“It’s going to sting a lot.”

“I’m fine.”

The man dipped cotton in disinfectant. As he gently applied the cotton to the wound, he bent down and blew softly on it. Tae-heun was the one who was taken aback by the sight of a complete stranger treating his foot and even blowing on it like he would for a child. Tae-heun’s ears turned red, and he wiggled his toes.

“Does it hurt a lot?”

The man asked cautiously, thinking Tae-heun was in pain.

“Yes. It hurts a bit.”

Although it didn’t hurt at all, he replied that way.

At those words, the man bent down as if he were going to lie flat on the floor and blew forcefully on Tae-heun’s foot. The child watched this and twitched his lips. He glanced at Tae-heun and silently mouthed, “You’re such a baby.”

Tae-heun was astonished by the man’s actions. There had been countless people who had crawled up to him, flattering him and kissing up to him when he was Lee Sunjae. Men and women, young and old, all did the same. They had something they wanted, and to get it, they threw away their human dignity. They were willing to offer anything—money, their bodies, alcohol, children, even their own lives.

But the man in front of him was different. Tae-heun had nothing to give. He had never promised to give anything. Yet, he voluntarily bent down and cared for Tae-heun’s injured foot. He lowered himself with pure intentions for someone who was neither a parent, sibling, friend, nor even a neighbor. Tae-heun was left speechless by the man’s actions, which felt almost noble. He just wiggled his toes, unsure of what to do.

After finishing the disinfection, the man applied ointment to Tae-heun’s foot with his fingers, rubbing it gently. He was so careful that it tickled, causing Tae-heun to wiggle his toes again. The man, thinking Tae-heun was still in pain, blew on it again. For some reason, heat rose all over Tae-heun’s body.

The man asked if he was okay, blinking his gentle, large eyes as he looked up at Tae-heun.

“…Yes. I’m fine.”

He was so tense that he stuttered. The child snickered.

After covering the wound with gauze, the man wrapped it with a bandage.

“Put on these socks.”

The man handed Tae-heun thick white socks.

“I don’t know if they’ll fit. My feet are a bit big.”

Saying this, he slipped his feet into the socks. They fit perfectly.

The man looked at Tae-heun’s feet in the socks with a satisfied smile.

“Please rest for a moment.”

The child, tired of staring at Tae-heun, had already laid down on the living room floor to do homework. The man went to the kitchen to clean up, and Tae-heun sat in the living room, enjoying the breeze from the fan. His eyes began to close involuntarily.

He didn’t even realize he had fallen asleep. It was the first deep sleep he had in months. Tae-heun thought he had died. It was that deep and peaceful.

He woke up to the sound of voices. He was lying with a pillow under his head and a summer blanket over him, perhaps brought by the man. He saw a familiar back at the dining table. Of course, the voice was also familiar. It was Detective Oh.

“I hear you’ve been busy lately?”

“Summer is like that.”

“You should earn while you can. Even if it’s hard on your body, think of it as your job.”

“Yes. I will.”

Detective Oh advised the man as if he were an older brother talking to a younger sibling. While it was fine to say he should earn while he could, why should he act like it was his own job when it wasn’t even his house? It wasn’t exactly pleasant advice.

The rustling sound made both of them look at Tae-heun at the same time.

“Are you awake?”

Detective Oh asked.

“Yes.”

“No, how long has it been since you went out that you’re trying to escape?”

Detective Oh raised his voice, which was unusual for him, as he rarely got angry.

Tae-heun sat up from his spot. He scratched his eyebrow. Blood was on his fingernails.

It was the man who noticed the blood first, even before Detective Oh. He limped over quickly and crouched down. He carefully brushed Tae-heun’s hair aside and narrowed his eyes.

“You have a wound above your eyebrow. It looks like it got worse because you keep touching it.”

The man brought a first aid kit, just like when he treated Tae-heun’s foot, and disinfected the wound and applied medicine. Even though Tae-heun’s face turned bright red just from making eye contact, the man sat close enough to blow on the wound as if it were nothing. He was such a strange man.

After carefully applying a bandage, the man smiled with satisfaction. Only then did he realize how close they were, and he surprised himself by falling backward. Tae-heun laughed.

To think he had been scratching what he thought was his eyebrow all this time, only to find out it was a wound above it—he felt quite foolish.

“Wow, you really are a handful.”

Detective Oh teased, which was unlike him.

“Let’s go. It’s late.”

He stood up from the table and urged them.

This time, Tae-heun quietly followed his words. Having had a proper sleep and a full meal, he felt relaxed. He decided it was worth escaping and promised himself he would come down again, saying goodbye to the man.

“Jihee, uncle is leaving.”

When Detective Oh called out loudly, the child rushed out of the room.

“Uncle. Goodbye. Come visit often.”

The child hugged Detective Oh once and then felt shy.

“Hey, Yoon Jihee. Your brother is leaving too, aren’t you going to say goodbye?”

Tae-heun teased, and the child stuck out her tongue. Fortunately, before the man could say “Then you can’t use it,” the child bowed her head first.

“Goodbye, beggar uncle.”

Detective Oh looked bewildered at the child’s words.

The man was flustered, and Tae-heun laughed.

“Yeah. See you again.”

He blew a kiss. The child pretended to gag and dashed back into the room.

“That kid is really bold.”

Detective Oh chuckled heartily.

“But how did you end up being a beggar?”

Detective Oh asked, and Tae-heun just laughed.

“I’m leaving. Thank you.”

He said to the man.

The man nodded silently.

After meeting the man, Tae-heun fell ill with a fever. It wasn’t a fever of love. Strangely, it was a fever for food. He felt like he was going crazy wanting to eat young radish noodles. He thought about the noodles he had eaten all day long. Whenever he thought of the noodles, the man who treated his foot and the sweet memory of sleep came to mind.

Detective Oh, who had taken Tae-heun to the back room that day, warned him in a serious tone to refrain from acting unilaterally.

“If the director does this, it will be the director who gets into trouble. We didn’t bring you here because we wanted to.”

“Then you can officially let me go out. How long are you going to keep me locked up?”

“Locked up? It’s all for your safety.”

“Damn it. That safety. When did I ask you to protect me? You’re the ones who locked me up for your own convenience.”

Tae-heun blamed them for making him escape instead.

He wasn’t angry with Detective Oh. Detective Oh had done the most for Tae-heun, and he knew he was caught in the middle. Still, he was angry, and Detective Oh was the only one he could vent that anger on.

Since Detective Oh left, he hadn’t received a check-in call. Tae-heun sat blankly staring at the wall all day. The phone rang incessantly, and days passed without him answering. The vigilance grew stricter. The footsteps of men, which he hadn’t heard before, became audible. Instead of calling, they sent someone directly to check if Tae-heun was doing well.

The fever worsened day by day. The delicious young radish noodles, the cheap detergent smell from the clothes he wore that day, the wounds on his foot and above his eyebrow where the man had touched, and the sweet sleep. Even with his eyes open, those thoughts consumed him.

Let’s go out. Even if it means getting caught again, he vowed to go out. He forced himself to eat. He didn’t leave a single grain behind to build his strength. He ate, drank water, and exercised. He tried every exercise he could do in the small room. He even ran.

Eventually, sensing something unusual, they sent Detective Oh.

“Is it that hard to bear?”

He asked, sounding frustrated.

“How can I bear it when there’s no promise?”

“Why is there no promise? Soon.”

“When is that soon?”

Detective Oh fell silent.