By Zephyria 
He was a younger cousin who resembled Seo Chi-young. In terms of appearance, he was smaller and had more angular features, so they didn’t look particularly alike, but as they spoke, the thought that they were similar would suddenly surface. It was in the way he naturally tried to be considerate of others, and how he and Seo Chi-young would let out a sigh almost simultaneously while watching a news report about people suffering from typhoon damage.
At first, Jang Ui-geon had felt a slight edge to his mood upon hearing that Seo Chi-young was living with someone—whether it was a cousin or anyone else—even if only for a short while. But since the cousin was so much like Seo Chi-young, he couldn’t bring himself to dislike him.
“Come to think of it, Mom said she’s coming next week. I called earlier about my old room, and they said the repairs seem to be finishing sooner than expected, so I should be able to move back in around next weekend.”
“Really? That’s sooner than I thought. Is that why your youngest aunt is coming early too?”
The youngest aunt, the mother of this maternal cousin, had originally said she would come the week after next. When Seo Chi-young asked about the change in plans, the cousin shook his head.
“No, next weekend is the anniversary of my second aunt’s passing, so I think she’s planning to stop by the grave on her way up. That’s why I’m going to Icheon with Mom next weekend.”
“I see,” Seo Chi-young nodded, and Jang Ui-geon, who had been listening to their conversation with an intrigued expression, joined in.
“Your aunt passed away?”
“Ah, yes. My second aunt… there was actually one more person between my mother and my youngest aunt—Woo-young’s mother. But she passed away quite young in an accident. A few years after I was born, before Woo-young was born.”
As he added that she was buried in Icheon, the cousin chimed in, “That’s why I’ve only seen my youngest aunt’s face in photos,” to which Seo Chi-young replied with a smile, “I was so young then that I barely remember her either.”
“I see,” Jang Ui-geon nodded and gave a quiet smile.
He liked this.
Even if it meant he couldn’t enjoy a short date by walking Seo Chi-young home on the days the cousin visited the shop, listening to their casual conversation allowed him to learn trivial things about Seo Chi-young. Things like the fact that he originally had two aunts, or that he often took cold showers in the front yard during summer as a child, or that he went camping in the mountains with his maternal cousins in fourth grade, or that his parents worried a lot when he ran a fever of 40 degrees from a cold just days before his high school entrance exam—things that didn’t really matter if he didn’t know them.
However, Jang Ui-geon found great pleasure in hearing those unimportant details. Anything was fine. No matter how trivial, he loved being able to trace the trajectory of the life Seo Chi-young had lived.
“So, are you going back to your original home next weekend?”
As he asked the cousin, Jang Ui-geon felt a slight sense of regret that he was leaving.
“Yes. I think I’ll probably go straight home after visiting Icheon with Mom. I need to buy what I need, get organized quickly, and focus on my studies. The exam isn’t far off. ──I absolutely have to pass this year. I can’t make our Yoon-ji wait any longer.”
The cousin let out a deep sigh, seemingly depressed by the mention of the exam. Jang Ui-geon spoke up with a faint smile.
“Is Yoon-ji your girlfriend?”
“Yes. We actually hit our 1,500th day together recently.”
“Over four years? That’s a long time. What is she like?”
“She was in the same major as me; she’s kind and diligent. She’s working at a tax accountant’s office now. She’s slightly shorter than me, but she loves high heels, so she’s always looking down at me when we meet. Ah, I wish she’d just wear flats for once…”
The cousin rambled on about his partner, sounding grumpy yet looking very happy. He must really love her. Jang Ui-geon let out a small chuckle, finding it cute how the cousin’s eyes sparkled as he spoke passionately about his girlfriend.
“Hyung, do you have a partner?”
The moment the cousin asked out of sudden curiosity, Seo Chi-young, who had been filling a water bottle with barley tea, slipped and spilled some tea beside him.
Glancing at Seo Chi-young, who hurriedly stopped and wiped the counter in fluster, Jang Ui-geon answered readily, “Yes.”
“Oh, really? I knew it. I had a feeling, but since you always seemed to be here whenever I visited, I was wondering if you didn’t go on dates or if you didn’t have a partner.”
To the cousin, who was beaming with an innocent face, Jang Ui-geon gave a calm smile and replied, “Did you?” Beside them, Seo Chi-young was merely filling the water bottle with extreme caution.
“What kind of person are they?”
“A very kind, sweet, and beautiful person.”
The cousin blinked in admiration at how Jang Ui-geon answered immediately without a hint of hesitation. Then, he beamed with a bright smile. “Wow, you’re lucky.”
Behind the cousin, who had moved away from the TV to sit right in front of Jang Ui-geon, Seo Chi-young remained awkwardly bowed, staring intently at the spout of the kettle, a faint flush appearing on his face. At that moment, the cousin casually looked back at Seo Chi-young. However, he didn’t look at him closely, as only his profile was visible, and instead gestured toward him while speaking lightly to Jang Ui-geon.
“If you know anyone decent, please introduce them to my Hyung. My mom is worried that he’s still alone at his age.”
As the cousin let out a mock sigh, wondering how worried his eldest aunt must be, Seo Chi-young gave a flustered blink and glanced briefly at Jang Ui-geon before blurting out instinctively.
“I—I have someone too.”
“What, really? Who?!”
The cousin looked back at Seo Chi-young with a look of total surprise, as if he hadn’t expected it at all. Seo Chi-young’s lips quirked as if he were about to say something, staring intently at the cousin. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Jang Ui-geon, who was watching with great interest.
“…, a kind, sweet, and beautiful person.”
The words that tumbled out were a mirror image of what Jang Ui-geon had said.
The moment he said it, Jang Ui-geon’s eyebrows quirked strangely in the corner of his vision, and Seo Chi-young’s face flushed intensely. But it wasn’t a lie. Even if he thought about it slowly and spoke again, he would likely say the same.
A kind, sweet, and beautiful person. That was the kind of person Seo Chi-young’s partner was.
Suddenly, Jang Ui-geon smiled faintly and, while the cousin was staring blankly at Seo Chi-young, he slowly stroked his own cheek.
Am I beautiful? His expression seemed to ask as he smiled.
Seo Chi-young bowed his flushed face deeply. Then, very slightly, in a way only someone paying close attention would notice, he gave a small nod. As Seo Chi-young kept his head down, unable to meet his eyes, he heard the sound of Jang Ui-geon laughing.
“I see. I didn’t know because I never saw Hyung on the phone or meeting anyone. …Wait, is it because of me that you can’t meet them?”
“You don’t have to worry about me,” the cousin muttered, scratching his head. He seemed to think that because he was crashing at Seo Chi-young’s place, Seo Chi-young was avoiding his partner to take care of him. His gaze toward Seo Chi-young was filled with apology and awkwardness. Then, he clicked his tongue and spoke.
“I should disappear quickly! I’m leaving next weekend anyway, so just bear with it until then, Hyung. Sorry.”
Seo Chi-young only gave an ambiguous smile to his brother, who added that he really didn’t mind if Seo Chi-young met his partner and came home late. Beside them, Jang Ui-geon, with an indifferent expression, pulled the water bottle Seo Chi-young had just filled and poured tea into an empty cup.
“I really need to study hard once I go home. I definitely want to pass the exam this year and get married soon.”
“Already?”
Since the cousin was only in his mid-twenties, the word seemed quite unfitting for his age, and Jang Ui-geon asked back with a surprised smile. However, the cousin nodded earnestly.
“Yes. I want to live together soon. I hate living alone. I’ve already told both Yoon-ji’s family and mine that we’ll have the formal family meeting and get married as soon as I pass the exam.”
Since he had already told his parents, it seemed it wasn’t just light talk. He’s still quite young, but he’s not like kids these days, Jang Ui-geon thought, looking at him fondly. Seo Chi-young also seemed to find his cousin cute and admirable, nodding with a quiet smile.
“Right, it’s better to live with someone than to be alone.”
Those words struck Jang Ui-geon’s ears with unusual clarity. Feeling that a thought he had tried to suppress was resurfacing, Jang Ui-geon unconsciously frowned.
“Hyung, aren’t you getting married?”
“Uh…, no. I don’t think I will.”
Seo Chi-young hesitated briefly and shook his head. The cousin looked at him with a puzzled expression but didn’t pry. He likely considered Seo Chi-young’s situation and the fact that he didn’t seem inclined to talk about it, deciding it was best not to ask in detail. However, as if Seo Chi-young’s words bothered him, he cautiously suggested.
“Why don’t you tell your partner to live together…? It’s not a taboo thing these days.”
“Haha…, no, that’s…”
Seo Chi-young waved his hand with a light laugh. This time, there was no hesitation like before.
…I can’t.
Jang Ui-geon felt a vein pop on his forehead and quietly rubbed it with his hand. His stomach churned slowly. The suppressed thought had finally surfaced. The thoughts circling in his head again.
He said it was fine to live with other people. But not with me.
Jang Ui-geon pressed his furrowed brow with his fingertips and drank the barley tea in silence. Just then, a phone rang, and the cousin fumbled in his pocket. His face brightened upon checking the caller. With a warm smile, he stood up.
“Uh, it’s me. Yeah. Hyung’s shop. Yeah. I’m about to head in. Where are you? …Really? You got home late. What did you do today? …I see, did you buy a lot of pretty clothes?”
The affectionate voice on the phone gradually faded as he walked toward the end of the alley, stopping only when he was far enough that the words were barely audible. He could only tell that the voice was very gentle—a soft, whispering tone. It was immediately clear that the call was from his girlfriend.
And for a while, sitting face-to-face with Seo Chi-young, Jang Ui-geon remained silent. It was because countless thoughts were racing through his mind. Why does he have no intention of living with me? Then, a plausible hypothesis occurred to him. Since Chi-young was always thinking of others first, he might be doing it because he didn’t want to be a burden.
“……….”
Ridiculously, it was only in this situation that he realized it clearly.
Jang Ui-geon wanted to live with Seo Chi-young. It wasn’t just a vague desire; he truly wanted it. He felt that even if they spent a four-day holiday together, or 40 days, or 400 days, it wouldn’t be enough.
Always together. For a lifetime. Always by his side. Sharing a life.
He wanted that.
The moment he realized it, the desire became so desperate it felt like it was choking him.
Ms. Chi-young.
Jang Ui-geon called Seo Chi-young as he set down his cup. His tone was slightly lower than usual, and Seo Chi-young immediately noticed the small change, looking at him curiously and unconsciously adjusting his posture.
“I’m speaking seriously.”
He felt as if his voice might tremble. He couldn’t afford to be pathetic.
“I want to live with you. Please live with me.”
He felt as if he were proposing. Jang Ui-geon was acutely aware of his own nervousness. While his voice sounded steady, the hand resting on his knee was twitching anxiously. When was the last time he had been this nervous?
“……….”
Seo Chi-young stopped moving. For a moment, it felt as if even breathing had stopped. His large, dark eyes stared at Jang Ui-geon in shock. How long did it last? It was probably only a few seconds, but it felt like a vast amount of time had passed. Suddenly, a look of distress appeared on Seo Chi-young’s face. After hesitating, Seo Chi-young slowly shook his head. “I’m sorry,” a voice that sounded like it was crawling away reached Jang Ui-geon’s ears.
And for a moment, Jang Ui-geon’s expression vanished as he looked at Seo Chi-young.
…What now. He could feel his heart actually breaking. He knew he shouldn’t, but his expression hardened. This is Chi-young’s feeling. Just because it’s different from my wish doesn’t mean I should be hurt or angry. I must respect his opinion.
Jang Ui-geon knew that well. He knew he should say, I see, that’s a shame, let me know if you change your mind, and move on. Forcing the other person or blaming them absurdly was one of the things he usually despised.
And yet.
The words that burst from his mouth were chillingly cold.
“Am I a burden to you?”
“Huh? Uh…, no…?”
“Is living with me burdensome and uncomfortable?”
Damn it. He could see Seo Chi-young’s face immediately become flustered and lost. He knew exactly how unsightly he was acting. Yet, the unsightly words continued to pour out of his mouth.
“I know how difficult it is to share a life. I know it’s different from dating; you can’t hide the things you want to hide, and you have to live while seeing both the good and the bad sides of each other. It’s not as if I find it entirely without burden. I’m scared and anxious. But.”
Jang Ui-geon paused for a moment.
How could he not know? What it meant to live with another person. Having to reveal even the parts of yourself that you hate, and having to see every raw detail of the other person. He knew well that sharing time does not always flow in a positive direction.
Still.
Still, I want to keep being with you, Chi-young 씨. I want to share a life, share time, share a living, and see every side of you! And I want to show you my side too. ──I want to live with you.”
Once more, seriously and desperately.
That was Jang Ui-geon’s honest truth. So please. …Please.
Jang Ui-geon’s gaze never left Seo Chi-young. Seo Chi-young also looked at him without even blinking.
It was a silence that was both very short and very long. From afar, the faint, gentle sound of the phone conversation could be heard. In that stillness, as if they were the only two people separated from the rest of the world, Seo Chi-young finally spoke.
“I… I don’t want to do that yet.”
He looked extremely troubled and distressed. A face that looked as if it might crumble at any moment, not knowing what to do.
He was the one who had made him so distressed. He was the one pushing him. That fact pierced Jang Ui-geon’s heart. At the same time, it manifested as a twisted reaction to the man who had ultimately shaken his head.
“Do you not have enough feelings for me yet to share a life? Is it not even to that extent?”
“No, it’s not that…”
Seo Chi-young stammered, unable to find the words. His dark eyes wavered with anxiety, wondering how to put it.
Just then, footsteps approached from outside, and before Seo Chi-young could speak, the cousin stepped under the shop’s roof.
“Sorry, the call got a bit long. Yoon-ji called to cheer me on for my studies.”
Speaking happily in a slightly bashful tone, the cousin sat in the chair.
At the same time, Jang Ui-geon stood up as if swapping places.
“I’ll be going now. Please get home safely. …Study hard, and goodbye.”
After leaving a greeting for Seo Chi-young and a brief farewell to the cousin, Jang Ui-geon turned away. Behind him, the cousin sounded surprised. “Huh? Why so suddenly… uh, um, goodbye!” he greeted in a bewildered tone. That was the only sound he heard.
Jang Ui-geon did not look back at Seo Chi-young, who must have been staring at him with a face so bewildered he couldn’t even manage a greeting. He felt that if he looked back, he might scream at himself in self-loathing right then and there.
Jang Ui-geon had been hammering alone in an empty construction site for some time now.
Thump. Thump. Along with the rhythmic sound, nails were driven deep into the smoothly polished wood. With just a few strikes of the hammer, the nail heads were driven flat into the hard timber. It was a violent hammering, as if he held a grudge against the nails.
Once one nail was driven, another followed. He continued hammering not only in the spots that required manual work but even in areas where a power tool would have been more convenient.
“Wait, why is the CEO doing this here? Have you eaten?”
At that moment, an older-looking man entered the construction site, picking his teeth with a toothpick. He stopped in his tracks, eyes wide, as he watched Jang Ui-geon hammering away in silence.
Jang Ui-geon looked back at him and finally slowed his pace, though he didn’t stop hammering entirely.
“Have you already finished your meal?”
“Yeah, I just slurped down a bowl of noodles. Did you eat before starting this, CEO?”
“I’ll eat in a bit. I had a late breakfast, so I’m not really hungry.”
Jang Ui-geon answered while continuing to hammer. This isn’t even something the CEO should be doing, yet he’s working the hardest of all, the man thought, crouching down beside him and sipping a cup of instant coffee.
As he had been doing for the past few days, Jang Ui-geon planned to make do with a simple rice ball around two or three in the afternoon. The part about the late breakfast was a lie, but the part about not being hungry was true. He wasn’t starving and was managing to eat, but he had lost his appetite lately and couldn’t remember the last time he enjoyed a meal.
It had been since that day. Since the day he had walked away from Seo Chi-young’s shop, Jang Ui-geon had not seen him. It was ambiguous whether he couldn’t see him or wasn’t seeing him, but regardless, they hadn’t crossed paths since.
He didn’t go at night, and in the morning, he told Seo Chi-young not to come for a while because he would feed the cats himself. Occasionally, Seo Chi-young would call with a cautious tone, but Jang Ui-geon would keep the conversation brief and hang up.
“……..”
I’m so childish. Jang Ui-geon.
Even though he had once declared to Seo Chi-young that he had decided to live his life childishly, this was beyond ridiculous.
What am I doing? Ah—I’m a total idiot. A complete disaster. It’s not the nail head that needs to be hit with the hammer, it’s my own head.
After one final, forceful strike, Jang Ui-geon suddenly felt his energy drain. He let out a long sigh and let his head hang.
Dammit. I miss him. But if I see him, that absurd feeling of disappointment will flare up again, and I won’t be able to control my expression. I wasn’t always like this. Feeling like he wanted to tear his hair out, Jang Ui-geon painstakingly pulled out a crookedly driven nail.
Seo Chi-young’s voice, calling every day or two, was incredibly cautious. He knew. He knew that Jang Ui-geon was upset. He likely knew the reason, too. When he had called last night—the most recent time—he had hesitated for a long while before stammering, “Mr. Ui-geon. About… living together…” At that moment, a storm of self-loathing and shame swept through Jang Ui-geon, and he had replied stiffly, “I’m done talking about that,” before hanging up with a convenient excuse. Afterward, he had practically slammed his own head against the wall.
It was fine for reason and emotion to be at odds. But this was just wrong, no matter how he thought about it. Who was at fault in this situation? Clearly, it was Jang Ui-geon himself. One hundred percent. Yet, it was almost laughable how he was taking his frustration out on Seo Chi-young. If someone else were doing this, Jang Ui-geon would have bluntly told them, “Don’t date someone like that. Chi-young, why are you suffering when you’ve done nothing wrong?”
I miss him. I don’t even know how many days it’s been. He missed him, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet him, fearing that Seo Chi-young would have that hesitant look on his face.
“Ah—I’m a hopeless idiot!”
He must have blurted it out without realizing.
The man crouching beside him, drinking coffee, looked at Jang Ui-geon with wide eyes. Only then did Jang Ui-geon wave his hand. “Ah, no. It’s just some personal matter.” Then, he let out another long sigh.
“Hmm… something on your mind? What is it, family trouble?”
They say men become more feminine as they age due to hormones; this man, who looked to be between fifty and sixty, had a somewhat aunt-like gaze as he asked inquisitively.
“No. …It’s just a personal matter.”
When he cut the conversation short, signaling that he didn’t want to talk, the man nodded and glanced at Jang Ui-geon. Then, he asked again.
“By the way, CEO, are you married?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Really? A partner?”
“I have one.”
“Not getting married?”
It seemed this man intended to spend the rest of his lunch break chatting. Since there was time left, Jang Ui-geon didn’t mind the man not working, but he wished he’d stop talking—especially since the topic was incredibly sensitive given the current situation.
Jang Ui-geon shot him a glance, but the man either didn’t notice the unfriendly look or perhaps used it to guess what the ‘personal matter’ was, as he continued without hesitation.
“You’re building such a big new house; you should hurry up and bring a bride to live with you. Why aren’t you getting married?”
He was the kind of man who tossed out sensitive questions with total indifference. Jang Ui-geon suddenly felt a surge of irritation. It’s not like I don’t want to bring him here to live. What was he supposed to do if the other person didn’t want to come?
“He says he doesn’t want to live with me.”
Clang! The nail that should have gone into the wood bent sharply and missed. He had hit it too hard. Dammit. As Jang Ui-geon muttered curses under his breath and pulled out the half-driven nail, the man looked at him with a deeply pitying expression. As if he finally understood why Jang Ui-geon had been hammering so irritably, he nodded to himself and said sympathetically, “What, does the bride hate you, CEO?”
“He doesn’t hate me.”
Even as Jang Ui-geon gripped the hammer tightly and glared at the man, the man continued to look at him with pity—and as Jang Ui-geon insisted, the pity only seemed to deepen. He nodded, as if saying, Right, right, sure you do. It was the look one gives a pitiful man who refuses to face the truth. Jang Ui-geon’s stomach finally churned.
“He comes to the house every single morning—though he hasn’t lately due to some circumstances—and when I visit him at night, he welcomes me with a truly happy face. If I’m a bit late because of work, he looks outside as if he’s waiting for me, and every time we part after he walks me to my door, he looks reluctant to say goodbye. And—”
And… there were countless other things.
Jang Ui-geon suddenly fell silent.
It was true. Seo Chi-young clearly cherished and cared for Jang Ui-geon more than anyone.
Jang Ui-geon knew. When they were in the car, Seo Chi-young would take him in through the mirror or the reflection in the window. He could have just looked at him openly, but Jang Ui-geon knew that subtle, cautious gaze. It was because Jang Ui-geon observed Seo Chi-young just as much.
It was not that long ago. While visiting Seo Chi-young’s house, during a moment when he had stepped away, Jang Ui-geon had been boredly looking around and discovered a graduation album tucked deep inside a bookshelf. While such things usually gather dust in most homes, this high school album was kept clean and neat, yet it bore the marks of frequent handling.
Out of curiosity, Jang Ui-geon opened the album and raised an eyebrow. The page that opened immediately was the one with Jang Ui-geon’s photo. The spine was slightly worn, as if that specific page had been opened over and over again.
‘……..’
Jang Ui-geon blinked, staring down at the album, wondering if this was a coincidence or… He found himself smiling for some reason. He searched his wallet, took out a small photo of himself that he always carried just in case, and tucked it between the pages. Then, he put the album back where it belonged. He enjoyed the thought of when the other man would find it—a week later, a month later, or perhaps it would remain forgotten.
However, the reaction came the very next morning. Seo Chi-young, who had come to feed the cats, seemed inexplicably restless and kept glancing at Jang Ui-geon. Having already forgotten about the album, Jang Ui-geon found his behavior strange and asked worriedly, “Is something wrong?” Seo Chi-young hesitated for a long time before saying, “Um… yesterday, when you came to my house, that, the alb… …no, it’s nothing,” and stopped mid-sentence. Seeing Seo Chi-young avoid his gaze with such an embarrassed face, Jang Ui-geon was overcome by a sudden, overwhelming impulse and pulled him into a tight embrace.
It was always like that. Whether Jang Ui-geon knew it or not, Seo Chi-young consistently thought of him and looked at him.
He knew that when they slept in the same place, Seo Chi-young would gaze at him for a long time while he was asleep—or rather, while he was quietly closing his eyes and calming his breath to pretend to sleep. He knew that Seo Chi-young would cautiously stroke his hand.
He knew that when they walked to his house every night and parted at the door, Seo Chi-young tried to act indifferent but was actually reluctant. He knew that every time the man called his name, the whisper of I love you, I love you so much was embedded in that call.
There was no way he couldn’t know. Because Jang Ui-geon felt the same.
He loved him so much, and he was loved in return.
“──.”
Jang Ui-geon clenched his jaw. Something hot surged in his chest, feeling as if it were blocking his throat. His heart throbbed, burning hot. Like a fool.
What am I doing? Why am I being such an idiot, getting upset on my own and avoiding the person I miss? When every single moment is precious. He missed him. He desperately wanted to see him.
It was his own arrogance to assume that the man would naturally and happily agree to live with him. The fact that he was suffering and cutting off contact over something so trivial was also a result of his own making.
Even though he always kept the conversations blunt and short when Seo Chi-young called, his heart would race with joy the moment the name appeared on the screen.
“Ah… what a total idiot.”
Jang Ui-geon tossed the hammer aside. He hugged his own head and let out a groan of distress.
Enough. I’m sick of suffering like a fool. I want to hear his voice, see his face, and hold him. I can’t do this anymore. He had to call—no, he had to go.
Jang Ui-geon stood up. The man looked up at him, blinking in surprise at the sudden movement, and awkwardly stood up as well.
“Why the sudden rush?”
“I think I need to step out for a moment. Please proceed with the work when the others return, and call me if anything happens.”
“Huh? Oh—right, right, go ahead. So, for the hallway floor leading to the back, we’re using that timber that arrived yesterday and is piled up over there, right?”
“Yes. I’ve ordered the railing materials separately, so please don’t start on that part.”
The man looked at Jang Ui-geon with a strange expression as he suddenly changed his demeanor and prepared to leave, but he simply nodded, confirming the tasks.
“I’ll leave it to you then.” Just as Jang Ui-geon bowed and took a step forward, the man spoke casually, as if something had just occurred to him.
“Oh, right. Speaking of which, while I was clearing the collapsed stone wall to pile up that timber, I found a dead cat. It wasn’t one of the ones kept here, was it?”
Jang Ui-geon stopped mid-stride. When he turned around, his expression was strangely contorted.
“A cat?”
“Yeah. I think it happened during the typhoon. It’s been dead for a while, so it’s in bad shape. I put it behind that pine tree in the back to bury it later… why, was it a pet from here?”
The man frowned and scratched his head. Jang Ui-geon stared at him for a moment, then turned and strode toward the direction he had pointed. He had a bad feeling about this; he clicked his tongue.
The house, nestled against the mountain, had a small trail leading upward right behind it, and there was a large pine tree at the entrance of that path. And there, behind the tree, lay the carcass of the cat the man had mentioned.
“……….”
Jang Ui-geon frowned, looking down at the body.
It had clearly been dead for some time, as the body was heavily decomposed. The smell was foul. As Jang Ui-geon approached, the flies perched on it buzzed away. A cat with three stripes. Though it was decayed in places, it was still recognizable.
It was the one whose leg was injured, the one Seo Chi-young had been particularly concerned about.
He didn’t have to deliberate for long on what to do.
Jang Ui-geon returned to the shop and brought back a large towel. He wrapped the cat gently in the towel and picked it up.
“Go to a good place. Thank you for the gift. I’m sorry I was always the one receiving.”
After whispering to the small bundle wrapped in the clean towel, Jang Ui-geon sighed and looked around. He decided he should bury it somewhere that got plenty of sunlight. And he would say nothing to Seo Chi-young. He would let him believe that the cat had simply gone somewhere else and was being loved by someone else.
Perhaps the cat might be waiting for one more word of prayer from Seo Chi-young, but sorry, that couldn’t happen. Until much, much later, when he could think of the cat that had lived a full life and say, ‘I hope you’re doing well in a good place,’ he would have to ask the cat to wait a little longer. Since the mountain was right behind them, several suitable spots caught his eye. However, Jang Ui-geon realized that even if the ground was soft from the rain, he would need a shovel to bury it deep enough so that wild dogs wouldn’t dig it up. Holding the white bundle close, he headed back down to the shop.
As the workers were finishing their lunch and returning, several people were moving around the construction site. While looking around for a shovel that might be lying around, the man from before saw Jang Ui-geon and called out, “Oh, CEO! Just in time!”
“Yes?”
“Someone was looking for you… oh, did they leave already?”
Watching the man look around, Jang Ui-geon raised an eyebrow in confusion. He hadn’t scheduled any appointments for today; perhaps a contractor had come.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have time right now. I don’t know who it was, but please tell them to go into the shop, leave their business card with an employee, and contact me separately later.”
“Huh? Oh, they looked like they had something important to discuss, but alright, I’ll tell them. …Ah, wait, there they are.”
The man, who had been smacking his lips and waving his hand, suddenly craned his neck behind Jang Ui-geon and pointed. Jang Ui-geon turned around. His eyes met with a man who had just rounded the corner of the annex. In that instant, Jang Ui-geon’s face involuntarily stiffened.
Of all times.
…Of all times, Seo Chi-young was approaching, bowing his head as he saw Jang Ui-geon.
Jang Ui-geon stood there frozen, unable to move, simply looking down at the approaching Seo Chi-young.
The man he had missed so much. The man he had wanted to see so badly. Those eyes, the bridge of his nose, his lips, his build, his gestures—everything he missed so much that his heart trembled. Why now? Not now.
Seeing Jang Ui-geon staring at him with a stiff, silent expression, Seo Chi-young’s face clouded over. Seeing that change in expression, Jang Ui-geon’s heart throbbed again.
“I’m sorry for coming suddenly. I… I know you don’t want to see me, but I felt that I couldn’t just leave things like this… I’m sorry.”
He had nothing to be sorry for. Those were the words Jang Ui-geon should be saying. As Jang Ui-geon looked down at him in silence, Seo Chi-young also fell silent, as if he had run out of words.
Jang Ui-geon lifted his head and let out a quiet sigh. Then, he called the man nearby.
“Please put this behind that pillar over there for a moment. Please don’t touch it.”
The man nodded with a bewildered expression and accepted the bundle wrapped in a towel. As he tilted his head, feeling its slight weight, he suddenly frowned.
“What is this smell? Is this… that cat? Are you planning to bury it?”
Jang Ui-geon’s expression instinctively hardened. He could see Seo Chi-young blinking his dark eyes in front of him. Damn it, in this moment, he wanted to shove a hammer right into that man’s mouth.
Seo Chi-young seemed to notice the sudden shift in Jang Ui-geon’s expression. He blinked a few times, looking back and forth between Jang Ui-geon and the towel bundle in the man’s hand, and then, as if a thought had suddenly occurred to him, he asked quietly.
“Was it Se-jul?”
Unexpectedly, Seo Chi-young sounded composed.
While Jang Ui-geon searched for a sunny spot and dug a wide hole, Seo Chi-young, clutching the white towel bundle, remained silent as if lost in thought. He looked as though he were speaking wordless words to the bundle, so Jang Ui-geon didn’t say anything either.
Eventually, he gently placed the towel bundle in the hole, laid a bit of cat food and some anchovies beside it, and covered it with soil. As he pushed the excavated earth back with his hands, Seo Chi-young looked down silently at the white cloth disappearing from view. Once the soil was fully covered, he gently stroked the slightly mounded pile of earth.
The soil was damp. Now, instead of the smell of a decaying carcass, there was the scent of moist earth. Warm sunlight shone down upon it. As days and time passed, tiny blades of grass would sprout, and eventually, they would grow lush, covering the mound in green as if nothing had ever happened.
Go to a good place.
For the first time, Seo Chi-young’s lips parted. Jang Ui-geon watched that tiny utterance in silence.
Slowly raising his head, Seo Chi-young looked at Jang Ui-geon. He said, “Thank you,” because he guessed that Jang Ui-geon hadn’t wanted him to see it. Jang Ui-geon merely nodded in silence, his expression subtly clouded.
“As you get older, there are more bad things than good things,” Seo Chi-young murmured quietly. Perhaps because he was looking down at the earthen grave, it sounded like he was talking to himself.
“You find yourself attending more sad gatherings than happy ones,” Seo Chi-young whispered, then fell silent for a moment. Jang Ui-geon looked down at the crown of Seo Chi-young’s head. A gentle breeze blew by, fluttering a few strands of hair.
“I feel like memories are built from such trivial things.”
Suddenly lifting his gaze, Seo Chi-young’s lips curved into something that was almost a smile.
“My second Auntie passed away when I was three. I don’t remember her, but my mother was very close with her, so she must have visited our house often before then.”
Seo Chi-young recited this calmly. Jang Ui-geon recalled a story he had heard once and gave a very slight nod.
“I have a vague memory that until I was about five, my house used old wooden chopsticks. Then, around five or six, the family changed the cutlery to brass, and it seems the old chopsticks were tucked away in a drawer somewhere.”
“………”
“Then, when I was eight or nine… we were moving, so we were clearing out the house and throwing away things we didn’t need. That’s when my mother found those wooden chopsticks she had forgotten in the drawer.”
Chopsticks that had been left in a drawer, forgotten and unused for years. Not precious, no longer used, old wooden chopsticks with the lacquer all peeled off.
“My mother just stared at them blankly. She was someone who moved so busily, saying there were only a few days left until the move and there was no time to hesitate, that we had to throw everything away and organize quickly. But she crouched in front of the kitchen drawer and just kept staring at those chopsticks, so I went over to her and looked at them too.”
“But no matter how much I looked, they were just ordinary wooden chopsticks we used a long time ago,” Seo Chi-young said with a faint smile.
“I was told that besides my family—my father, mother, and me—the person who used those chopsticks the most was my second Auntie. My mother told me later that whenever Auntie visited and they made something to eat, the two of them would chat and use those chopsticks to pick at snacks.”
It was truly a trivial memory.
A pair of chopsticks, the most common item used in daily life, which no one particularly recognized or consciously kept in their memory.
And yet, long after time had passed, one reflects on the memories contained within them. Through those insignificant and trivial things that were unknown at the time.
Seo Chi-young dropped his head and looked silently at his fingertips. Jang Ui-geon followed his gaze. Hands that bore the traces of much hardship; every small scar etched into them held something.
Suddenly, he wanted to hold that hand. He wanted to grip it firmly with both of his own and feel that warm skin within his palms.
“They say the longer you know someone, the harder it is after you part. Because there are so many things, places, and times you shared, you end up remembering them more often… Even a single pair of chopsticks can do that.”
Listening to Seo Chi-young’s whisper, Jang Ui-geon’s face stiffened unconsciously. The words ‘after you part’ coming from his mouth crushed his heart. He knew it wasn’t said with that intention, but the moment those words left his lips, he felt his heart freeze cold.
He had to say something. He had to say he was wrong, that he was sorry for making things difficult, but his throat tightened and no words came out. Seo Chi-young gazed blankly at Jang Ui-geon, who only looked down at him in silence. He scanned every corner of his face as if seeing it for the first time, with those large, pitch-black eyes that Jang Ui-geon loved so much.
“Yesterday, Woo-young went home with the youngest Auntie. We only lived together for a little over fifteen days, but after seeing someone off, the house felt a bit unsettled, so I spent the night organizing. And I kept thinking of you, Ui-geon. Whether I was washing chopsticks, watering the plants, putting books back on the shelf, or covering myself with a blanket. Every single one of those things reminded me of how you used them, how you plucked the withered leaves, how you read through the night, how you stepped on the rubber tub… it all came back to me…”
“──.”
His heart was aching.
What was he to do? Jang Ui-geon looked down at the house below the path with a fresh perspective. Inside that house, memories were imbued in every single object. Even the stairs he climbed and descended every day without a thought. In everything around him.
Jang Ui-geon could say nothing and only looked at Seo Chi-young. He had to speak. But he couldn’t remember what to say, or what the most important words were. I was wrong, I’m sorry—there were words more important than those.
“It was only last night that I thought: as you get older, the good things gradually decrease, and you end up living by relying more on old memories.”
Seo Chi-young paused, facing Jang Ui-geon. Then, at some point, he spoke as if whispering.
“Thank you.”
“…….”
“Now, I have countless good memories that make my heart swell even when I think back on them later. And even now, every day, there are more good things, and I feel joyful and happy every time I open my eyes. …It’s because of you, Ui-geon. Thank you for making it possible for me to feel this way.”
As he spoke, Seo Chi-young gave a quiet, polite bow.
Those are the words I should be saying.
The reason I can smile happily every single day the moment I wake up is because of you.
I am so childish and unsightly that I have no choice but to lean on the hand you reach out to me.
Jang Ui-geon slowly reached out. His hand hesitated as it moved toward Seo Chi-young’s cheek. Seo Chi-young remained silent and still, watching the hand. When Jang Ui-geon’s hand carefully cupped his cheek, he leaned his face very slightly into the palm.
“──.”
Jang Ui-geon ended up pulling Seo Chi-young into an embrace. He felt that if he didn’t hold him tightly, very tightly, his swelling heart would eventually burst.
As they walked down the path, the conversation they shared consisted of only a few words. Trivial things that were neither special nor important.
Did you eat?
Did your Auntie return safely from Icheon?
Those people are working hard in this heat.
I closed the shop for a bit before coming. I should head back soon.
Such conversations were so ordinary that it seemed as if nothing had happened between them. They chatted softly as usual, occasionally meeting each other’s eyes, wearing faint smiles, and shyly looking away.
This comfortable and pleasant sense of security.
Yes, this was the place. It had been here from the start. The place where he—where they—belonged was not his house, nor anyone else’s, but here. A place where they could align their hearts side by side. A place where they knew the other was there even if they couldn’t see them.
That place was enough.
By the time they had almost reached the bottom of the path, the main house, separated from the guest house by a single wall, came into view. Because a section of the wall had been torn down, the main house and the front yard were fully visible. In the yard, lumber and roof tiles were stacked in layers.
“Ah, I’ve decided to fix up the main house too,” Jang Ui-geon said, noticing Seo Chi-young’s gaze lingering there.
“I felt there wasn’t enough room for books. I’m planning to expand the back by about two rooms.”
From the beginning, he had built the wall of the main house with plenty of extra space, keeping the possibility of expansion in mind. Recalling that the backyard had been very spacious, Seo Chi-young nodded and said, “I see.”
“I’m thinking of adding an external corridor behind the porch to connect them,” Jang Ui-geon continued casually, pointing toward the main house.
“It’ll probably be too wide for one person to live in once the construction is finished, but I figured since I’m fixing the guest house anyway, it’s better to get it all done at once. Haha, it does seem a bit too large for one person, doesn’t it?”
Jang Ui-geon spoke with a casual laugh, but in the next moment, as if a thought occurred to him, he suddenly stopped and looked down at Seo Chi-young. With a slightly flustered look, he quickly added:
“I didn’t mean it in any other way. I have no intention of putting pressure on you, Chi-young, so please don’t worry about it.”
Hearing this, Seo Chi-young nodded quietly. Jang Ui-geon clicked his tongue inwardly. He couldn’t have forgotten why things had been awkward just a few hours ago, yet the words had slipped out.
He frowned for a moment and then let out a quiet sigh.
“I want to live with you, Chi-young. I still feel that way. And I probably will continue to. …But it’s okay. I’d hate it more if you felt uncomfortable. As long as you stay by my side happily, wherever you are, I’ll be satisfied with that.”
Jang Ui-geon instinctively reached out to take Seo Chi-young’s hand but stopped midway. The house was already too close. He was close enough to distinguish the faces of the people working at the construction site. If he did it now, Seo Chi-young certainly wouldn’t shake his hand off, but he would likely have a subtly troubled expression, and Jang Ui-geon didn’t want to make him feel that way.
“I mean it,” Jang Ui-geon added with a smile, lightly tapping Seo Chi-young’s arm before withdrawing his hand and walking ahead. Seo Chi-young hesitated for a moment and then followed a step behind.
Then suddenly,
“We’ll live together later. When we’re much older than we are now.”
It felt as if he heard Seo Chi-young’s whispering voice.
Jang Ui-geon stopped walking and turned around. He didn’t say ‘Let’s live together later.’ He said ‘We’ll live together later,’ as if stating a fact that had already been naturally decided.
As Jang Ui-geon looked at him with a peculiar expression, Seo Chi-young continued hesitantly.
“Before that, I want to enjoy the pleasures that can only be felt while living apart a bit more… Like coming to your house every morning, or saying goodbye in front of my house at night… I love those things so much, so…”
With every word, Seo Chi-young’s face gradually flushed until he finally dropped his head. His voice trailed off at the end.
The moment he woke up every morning and prepared to visit his house before leaving home.
The moment he opened the door and found him already out on the porch, greeting him with a bright smile.
The few minutes every night when they walked home together and, upon reaching the front of the house, lingered and brought up useless topics because they were reluctant to part.
Those moments were so precious and tender that he couldn’t bear to let them go. They were the heart-fluttering moments that happened every day in his life.
Jang Ui-geon opened his eyes slightly wider and looked down at Seo Chi-young. Looking closely at the face flushed with shyness, he slowly chewed over Seo Chi-young’s words. Those good things. Those beautiful moments that made his current life shine. Those trivial and lovely things.
Slowly, very slowly, Jang Ui-geon’s expression crumbled. It was because of a sensation—an indescribable emotion spreading through his entire body, tender and heart-wrenching, feeling both painful and suffocating.
And so, he was smiling.
“When do you think you’ll feel like you’ve had enough of that?” Jang Ui-geon asked softly.
Seo Chi-young seemed lost in thought for a while, his expression slowly shifting to one of contemplation. Eventually, he looked up at Jang Ui-geon with a troubled look and murmured hesitantly.
“……..What if I feel this way my whole life…”
I’ve had enough. He didn’t think he would ever feel that way in his entire life. Even though it was the same routine every day, it was still unbearably wonderful every time; he couldn’t imagine a time when he could readily let go and say, ‘I’ve had enough of this.’ However, Jang Ui-geon was waiting for his answer, so after thinking a bit more, Seo Chi-young spoke.
“Yes. Shall we decide to live together starting from sixty, then?”
They say life begins at sixty, he added to himself, though he thought he would still find it a shame when that time came. Looking closely at Seo Chi-young’s face, Jang Ui-geon burst into laughter.
“If we live together, I’m sure it’ll happen again, Chi-young. There will be times when you regret not living together sooner.”
Just as he felt when they went on trips for a few days and lived together—waking up suddenly in the middle of the night, hearing his breathing in the dark, and looking at his sleeping face—he was certain he would have those thoughts. Just as he currently regretted that they hadn’t met sooner.
But.
Jang Ui-geon let out a light breath and smiled.
He thought it would be good to savor the joys of the present for now.
Yes, come to think of it, wasn’t that true?
The anxiety of waiting for him to arrive all morning from the moment he opened his eyes.
The bittersweet longing he chewed over while walking back alone after seeing him home.
The trembling when he suddenly missed him in the middle of the night and toyed with his phone.
Those feelings of anxiety, longing, and trembling were not things he wanted to discard. They were heart-wrenching treasures that he would remember for a very long time.
“Still, sixty seems too far… let’s negotiate that down a bit.”
Jang Ui-geon turned to Seo Chi-young and spoke with a feigned sigh. Seo Chi-young, who had been blinking at his beaming face, eventually smiled with the expression Jang Ui-geon loved most.
Since they were doing extensive construction anyway, they decided to spruce up the path leading to the house. Although the permit only covered the road directly in front of the house, it was enough to be satisfying.
From the alley leading to the house to the main gate, and from the main gate to the threshold of the main house. And once inside the main house, throughout the entire garden.
He would plant flowers.
Wildflowers or whatever, he would sow seeds in abundance. So that the path of flowers would never end throughout the four seasons.
If he could walk through a path of flowers every step of the way as he approached him, and if every step was filled with longing and heart-fluttering anticipation, he felt he could ask for nothing more.
<fin>