Before long, the sun began to dip below the horizon, and darkness, the color of Seo Baek-han’s Dopo, gently settled over Chundangji Pond.
“So, in the end, Choi Yeon-jun ended up sobbing.”
“But wouldn’t that hyung have been really upset? After working so hard on it.”
“So what if he worked hard? Is a nineteen-year-old supposed to bawl in front of everyone? It’s better to ruin the reputation of the guy who wrecked the piece.”
Carried on the warm breeze, Seo Baek-han’s voice, layered with the subtle resonance of traditional instruments, felt like a piece of music in itself.
In truth, Joo Tae-hyun wasn’t particularly fond of summer. But the sound of crickets chirping on a summer night didn’t seem so bad. No, he had a wonderful feeling that he might even grow to like it quite a bit.
“By the way, Tae-hyun, what kind of suppressants do you use?”
“Uh, when I was a kid, I got shots every month. Now, I take a pill once a week…”
Seo Baek-han didn’t bow deeply to him like other people did when they spoke. So Joo Tae-hyun had to crane his neck until the back of it felt stiff, or stand on tiptoe when he had something he wanted to say only to him. Like this.
“Hyung, but you know. I don’t like that rice cake because it’s not tasty.”
“Then don’t eat it.”
“But they went out of their way to bring it. The hyungs said you shouldn’t leave food you get from the palace.”
“Really? What to do, I’m not a nice hyung like your hyungs, so I don’t want to eat it for you.”
“……”
“What are you doing? Open your mouth, quick.”
Things like that.
He spoke a little harshly, but Seo Baek-han still held the tray of drinks and snacks for Joo Tae-hyun, as his hyungs had done earlier, and if he saw someone passing by who seemed decent, he would call them over and introduce them with a light greeting.
“I don’t particularly like that person. But it’s necessary to know them. Especially for you, even more so.”
“Why?”
“Well. You’ll have to guess, won’t you? I just told you what your father does.”
“……Hmm. Give me another hint.”
“Haha, should I?”
That wasn’t all.
Joo Tae-hyun listened to Seo Baek-han talk about the hardships of college life that he hadn’t yet experienced, funny episodes from attending other banquets hosted by the Imperial Family, and the scenery that could only be seen in Moran-gu, Pyongyang, where Seo Baek-han lived…
“Gae-ma Plateau only? Ah, the ski resort.”
“Yes. Hmm… Is Gae-ma Plateau close to Pyongyang?”
“What? Don’t kids these days learn geography?”
The stories Seo Baek-han told were as diverse as popping candy constantly bursting in his mouth, and like a millstone that endlessly grinds out salt, the topics never ran out.
“…So, I’m thinking of creating a group for the descendants of young independence activists, something like that. Centered around His Highness Prince Yi.”
“Then can I join too?”
“What are you talking about? Of course, you have to join, you.”
Seo Baek-han ruffled Joo Tae-hyun’s hair wildly.
Rather than worrying that his neatly combed hair would be messed up, his heart dropped with a startle at the touch of his hand.
No, was it okay to touch someone else’s, well, another Alpha’s hair so casually?
According to 〈Common Sense About Special Traits for Elementary School Students〉 that Joo Tae-hyun had read, when there was a chance of touching another trait-holder, you had to ask for their consent first. Whether that person had the same trait as you or a different one.
Did that rule disappear when you became an adult?
But Seo Baek-han was only nineteen years old.
Of course, he had been admitted early to science high school, graduated early, and then entered Pyongyang University early as well… So, even if his body wasn’t an adult, was he considered an adult socially?
“By the way, kid, how sick were you when you manifested that you weren’t going to school?”
Just as Joo Tae-hyun was about to fall into the philosophical question of the definition of physical and mental maturity, Seo Baek-han asked.
“Ah, I was lucky to survive. The doctor found out it was manifestation fever right before declaring brain death, so they gave me an emergency injection of suppressants.”
“Ah…”
“The suppressants worked well, but after that, I was hospitalized in an isolation room for several months…”
“That’s a relief… You know, there’s a high probability that childhood deaths that used to be treated as unknown causes were actually due to manifestation fever.”
He nodded briefly as if he had heard the story before, but he didn’t really know. It was the first time Joo Tae-hyun had heard of it. He had finished the elementary school curriculum a long time ago, but that kind of content wasn’t written in the books Joo Tae-hyun had seen.
“That’s why I’m majoring in traitology, even though it’s not fun. And why I’m trying to create these kinds of organizations.”
“Why…?”
“Look, you were able to get better because you’re the youngest son of DH, but other children died not knowing why. A single injection of suppressants would have made them better quickly…”
When Joo Tae-hyun closed his mouth, Seo Baek-han said, “Not that it’s your fault,” and ruffled Joo Tae-hyun’s hair again. Why did he keep stroking other people’s hair? I’m not a puppy… Above all, I’m also a trait-holder, an Alpha. Although I’m immature compared to him. Earlier, he didn’t do that to other people, so why is he touching me so easily? Well, it’s not like I hate it that much…
“When I was confirmed to be an Alpha as a child, there wasn’t a single person in my family who looked as carefree as they did when I came out of the doctor’s office. They were worried about what to say to the school, what to say to the company, and why this wasn’t covered by insurance. At the time, there weren’t that many patients in the trait medicine department, but everyone there except me had, well… yeah, they looked like they were on the verge of death.”
Isn’t that too unfair, Seo Baek-han said, leaning to one side.
“Whether they’re Alpha or Omega, it’s not like they were born that way because they wanted to, so why should social class and wealth be applied to traits?”
“……”
“I find that so annoying. People like you and me, people on basic living security, everyone should be equal in front of traits. That’s the right thing to do.”
Joo Tae-hyun also knew that he was lucky.
But that was only to the extent of a shallow feeling of gratitude for being chosen by God at the crossroads of life and death.
The lives of other trait-holders? The lives of ordinary people who aren’t invited to these imperial concerts?
Honestly, he had never imagined it concretely. Joo Tae-hyun’s daily life and happiness had always remained in the shallow present.
After he was born, he heard that his father had implemented welfare policies for trait-holder employees in all affiliates. Later, the DH Group became the standard, and related laws were established in the Korean Empire.
How proud he had been when he found that anecdote in a textbook.
But he had never seen anyone crying for insurance coverage after manifesting. He had never looked into what it was like for trait-holders who were not in the DH Group or a similar large company, who were outside the protection of the law.
He tried not to forget every moment how great a privilege it was to live as a chaebol in the Korean Empire. Even his endlessly lenient family was firm on this point.
But the fact that his ability to survive itself was a privilege… Honestly, he didn’t really feel it.
“I suddenly got too serious. What’s your dream, kid? What do you want to be when you grow up?”
Noticing that Joo Tae-hyun had become a little subdued, Seo Baek-han skillfully changed the subject.
“People that age say really ridiculous things. They say they want to be robots, and stuff. No, have you passed that age now? Twelve-year-old Joo Tae-hyun.”
“……I’ve never done that, even when I was younger.”
“Really? I did. Not a robot, but I wanted to be someone like in a hero movie. Like Iron Man.”
But I didn’t like having to wear tight clothes, and I didn’t like having to wear a mask, so I decided to quit.
“Because my face is too precious for that.”
With that, Seo Baek-han smiled.