By Zephyria In front of the photos of the bird and the tree. Wearing the ivory boat-neck knit he had worn on the day they walked up Namsan together. He was looking at Choi Hong-seo, who had stopped on the stairs. In the reflected light, he looked like an angel.
He couldn’t dare to approach.
Was he the omnipotent being who had called me, who had drifted through the universe without form or voice, to this land? For a moment, he thought so.
Unlike Choi Hong-seo, whose feet were frozen by this encounter, his gaze and expression, as he looked at him, showed no surprise. That’s how he knew. He knew he had been waiting for him.
His hairstyle, his clothes, his posture. He looked more relaxed and comfortable than when he wore a suit. The hair that naturally fell over his forehead, the sharper facial lines than when he had last seen him a few days ago, his slightly chapped lips. And the summer boat-neck knit he had worn on their first date, so to speak.
As if sensing where Choi Hong-seo’s gaze had moved, he turned his body slightly towards him. Standing with both hands in his pant pockets, his back to the light-filled window, he asked,
“Do you remember this outfit?”
His dry voice was hoarse.
Choi Hong-seo nodded.
“On Sowol-ro… when you took me to the guesthouse.”
The voice didn’t sound like it was coming from his own vocal cords. Without realizing it, he took a step, placing it on the next stair.
“Do you know how many times that was that we met?”
“…The second time.”
We. Was the ‘we’ he was talking about himself and the me before him, or himself and the Choi Hong-seo who wasn’t here?
Thinking that, he stepped onto the stair he had placed his foot on. His figure grew closer.
“When you showed me the camera storage room.”
“……”
“You asked me. Why I liked you. What it was about me you liked.”
“……”
“Do you remember what I answered as the first reason?”
“Out of focus.”
His eyes, looking this way, narrowed. A Rift was forming in the stillness that enveloped him. He swallowed dryly, his long, firm neck twitching.
Gripping the strap of his bag tightly, Choi Hong-seo placed his foot on the next stair. As if he had been granted permission to get closer to him by one step for every quiz he answered correctly.
Tilting his head, he furrowed his brow. Having shattered the stillness, he wore an expression as if barely enduring sorrow, sadness, or anger.
“When did we sleep together for the first time?”
“In Ho Chi Minh City… the day we returned to Korea.”
He ascended another stair.
He took one hand out of his pocket, covered his lower jaw, and squeezed it.
“The place… we last met.”
“Nox Hotel. The underground parking lot…”
With that answer, Choi Hong-seo reached the top of all the stairs. The distance between them was only 2-3 meters.
As if encountering an unknown creature he had never seen before, he looked at Choi Hong-seo with cautious, yet awestruck eyes. As if worried that if he approached too quickly, it would get scared and run away, and if he acted too leisurely, it might disappear in the blink of an eye.
The hand that had been covering his mouth suddenly dropped.
“When Jeong Ji-in asked if I was seeing Vice President Lee Hae-sung.”
“……”
“What did you answer? What did you call me…?”
His voice trembled more violently than ever before.
This wasn’t something that had happened between Lee Hae-sung and Choi Hong-seo. He hadn’t thought he would hear about that story.
The last call with Jeong Ji-in.
He had braced himself for what was to come. That’s why he had to deny him. So that the filth that leaked from Lee Seo-kyung wouldn’t splash onto his name. He had to push Choi Hong-seo far away. Perhaps he had already been preparing for the end then. Unconsciously, vaguely.
The pain of denying his love at that moment revived in his left chest. Lee Hae-sung, not missing a single subtle change in his expression, took it all in.
The hand holding the bag strap like a lifeline began to tremble. His breathing grew rapid. He bit his lip hard, then released it, exhaling.
“That was… that, at that time…”
“I know. I know you did it to protect me. I just need you to tell me what you said.”
It was as if he were in the middle of a Squall; his vision blurred in an instant. Despite his words that he knew the reason, he felt infinitely sorry towards him, and bowing his head, he barely moved his lips.
“Rojin…”
The tears that had gathered heavily in the meantime fell with a plop onto the tile floor.
“I said he was a naive old man who only knew work… Rojin.”
“This photo.”
At his agitated voice, he looked up. Lee Hae-sung stretched out his long arm and pointed directly at a photo. It was a photo of a bird.
“Who took it?”
“……”
His expression wasn’t one of interrogation, but of pleading. Please, tell me the answer. Only then did Choi Hong-seo fully grasp the meaning of his words. The words asking to awaken the princess from a terrible magic. To accept this situation, he needed proof and certainty. He wanted to believe this situation, and that’s why he desperately needed proof and certainty.
He wiped away the endlessly rising tears, which felt like a tide, with his hand. He looked directly into his eyes.
“I took it. In Jakarta. With the camera… you gave me.”
“Who… are you?”
His voice was pale, like a ghost’s scream barely escaping through a tightly sealed gap.
“Who are you?”
He asked again. More than his question, the fact that tears welled up in his eyes was a thunderclap to Choi Hong-seo. He opened his lips to answer, but no sound came out.
Moving his jaw muscles, which had stiffened to suppress tears, as little as possible, he spoke as if sighing.
“If you just say you are Choi Hong-seo, I…”
“……”
“Will believe you.”
He finally cried. Tears that flowed down the edge of his high nose, following the inner corner of his eyes, wet his lips. It felt like he had made a god cry.
Without hesitation, he ran straight to him and hugged him. He couldn’t leave him to cry alone. He wrapped his arms around his back, pressing his chest tightly against his chest with no gap. There was no fear of being rejected. It didn’t matter.
“It’s Hong-seo. I am Choi Hong-seo. I really am Hong-seo, Darling… I can tell you everything. I remember everything. Ask me anything. I’ll answer it all.”
The solid pillar, which had once seemed like the master of the city and the world, and which nothing seemed capable of destroying, now seemed to be leaning on him, supported only by that strength.
Holding his warm, living body, rubbing his cheek against his neck, Choi Hong-seo begged for forgiveness.
“I didn’t want to say it like that. That you are my lover, my… my beloved… I wanted to say… sob… sob…”
His arms, which had been hanging limply, moved. He gently stroked the back of Choi Hong-seo’s head, who had burst into tears, and lightly, as if brushing past, wrapped his shoulders.
“I know. How could I not know?”
“……”
“I know. I know everything.”
His arms and hands gradually gained strength. He held him tightly, as if to engrave the body in his embrace into his own chest. The pressure was so intense it was hard to breathe. But it was a hug he would never want to refuse, even if it choked him. In the familiar scent of cologne emanating from him, he closed his eyes and thought. Today was Choi Hong-seo’s memorial day.
■
He couldn’t gauge how much time had passed, or how much he had cried.
From outside the window, the sounds of three or four boys giggling and talking gradually grew closer. Even though he couldn’t understand English, he could tell they weren’t using polite language. Two of them suddenly started arguing, their voices rising.
Lee Hae-sung seemed to understand what they were saying, and at some point, the chest behind him let out a puff of air, like a sigh.
Choi Hong-seo gently stroked his arm, which was holding his lower abdomen.
He was now with him in the spot where he had sat alone, leaning against it yesterday afternoon. Leaning his back and shoulders against his chest, burying his face in his arms. He felt like he had cried all the tears of his life. So much so that he felt he wouldn’t be able to cry even when necessary in the future.
While crying as if expelling the darkness of the past clinging to the bottom of his heart, he didn’t tell him to stop crying. He just held him like this, stroked him, kissed his hair, and listened intently to his tears. Just like before.
Even after the tears had completely subsided, they sat like this, silently, for a while. As if they had infinite time.
Choi Hong-seo was the first to sit up from his embrace. Leaning his head against the large window that reached the floor, he pulled on his upper arm so he wouldn’t move away. Choi Hong-seo, who had no intention of moving far away, turned around awkwardly, held by him.
Tear stains remained on the chest and arms of the knit, which looked quite luxurious at first glance. He rubbed the wet parts with his fingertips.
“Your clothes must be all dirty.”
“Right. With snot and tears all over it, I can’t wear this anymore.”
He too seemed exhausted, his voice lacking strength even when joking. Choi Hong-seo also laughed weakly.
The bag of tissues that Lee Hae-sung had taken from Choi Hong-seo’s bag to wipe his tears lay on the floor. He pulled out a few sheets and rubbed them over his knit. As if there was no need, he gently held Choi Hong-seo’s wrist.
“Even while thinking you are Hong-seo… for a while, you’ll keep trying to confirm it, won’t you? Is that okay?”
His gaze, looking down with his eyelids lowered while leaning his head against the window, was deep. Clenching the tissue in his hand, he met him cautiously, but with conviction.
“Why would that be? It’s nothing to me. It’s necessary.”
“……”
“Even if it were me, I wouldn’t have believed it.”
The hand that had been holding his wrist now came to his face, tracing the tear marks. His face must have been a mess, having cried until his skin was swollen and raw.
“However many times, however much it takes… please confirm it the way you want. I want you to be sure that I am Choi Hong-seo, too.”
His fingertips, which had been gently brushing his eyes, slowly traced his features one by one. Suddenly, he felt afraid of that gaze, afraid that it wasn’t Choi Hong-seo’s face, and he averted his eyes.
“My face… is different, isn’t it?”
He cupped Choi Hong-seo’s chin and gently lifted it, preventing him from avoiding his gaze.
“Don’t hide it.”