By Zephyria 
Tossing and turning occurred once on each side of the double bed. Two boys, who had rushed to Paris on a whim during their freshman year of college, shouting “Eiffel Tower!”, moved their bodies slightly, hiding within the noise of the radiator. Yet, despite that, it was impossible not to know that the other was awake.
The first one to bolt upright was Min-gyu, who was lying on the right.
“Song Yi-ho, you can’t sleep either, right?”
“Yeah….”
Both of them had failed to adjust to the jet lag. Even after wandering around in the cold winter air from morning until evening until their toes were swollen red, sleep wouldn’t come. It felt incredibly strange—their physical stamina was completely depleted, yet their minds were wide awake.
“I’m hungry.”
Moreover, the baguette sandwiches they had for dinner had long since been digested. Hearing Yi-ho’s mutter, Min-gyu climbed out from under the covers. Since it was a cheap hotel with poor heating, a chill rushed in the moment he left the blankets warmed by their combined body heat. Rubbing his goosebump-covered arms, Min-gyu hopped over Yi-ho’s suitcase and pulled two cup noodles out of his own luggage, shaking them.
“……!”
Yi-ho immediately stepped out of bed as well.
Seeing his friend’s eyes sparkle, Min-gyu felt a surge of pride and rummaged through the suitcase once more, pulling out a can of tuna and packaged kimchi. Confronted with a level of preparedness he lacked, Yi-ho clapped frantically. The two began to set up a proper Korean late-night feast.
“Wait a second.”
Min-gyu took the electric kettle provided in the room into the bathroom, scrubbed the inside thoroughly, and for good measure, boiled a batch of tap water and dumped it. Through this trip, Yi-ho had come to realize that Min-gyu was cleaner than he had thought. While Min-gyu was holed up in the bathroom, Yi-ho half-opened the ramen lids, poured in the soup powder, and neatly laid out the wooden chopsticks. After coming out having cleaned the kettle to his satisfaction, Min-gyu opened the hotel’s mini-fridge and suddenly stopped.
“Song Yi-ho, we have a problem.”
“What?”
“We don’t have bottled water. We only have sparkling water.”
“Oh….”
Soon, Yi-ho replied in a serious voice.
“…Theoretically, it’s the same if you boil it.”
“Song Yi-ho, what was your grade in Chemistry?”
“Perfect score. In Chemistry 2.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
Their palms met with a loud clap! in mid-air. Like mischievous kids about to start a fun experiment, they excitedly poured sparkling water into the kettle. The sparkling water in the heating kettle bubbled violently at first, then soon poured hot steam from the spout. The boiled sparkling water was then poured over the two cup noodles.
As the scent of ramen wafted up, the two, both possessing hearty appetites, tapped their wooden chopsticks impatiently.
“Song-i Song.”
“What.”
“Is there some scientific principle where sparkling water ramen cooks faster or something?”
“No. I told you, it’s just plain water once you boil it.”
“Ah, this is why science majors are no good. There’s no message of dreams and hope.”
“…?”
Yi-ho wanted to say something to the humanities kid who didn’t know molecular structures, but he kept his mouth shut for now, out of gratitude for being granted a late-night snack.
Perhaps finding the waiting time too boring, Min-gyu began to hum a baseless song, drumming on the ramen lid with his chopsticks.
“Song-i song-song-song, song!”
He was rewriting the lyrics of a children’s song that started with “Hands are freezing, freezing, freezing!” and singing it like that.
“What is he actually doing….”
“Feet are song-song-song, song!”
“Cha Min-gyu, you crazy bastard.”
“Because of the winter wind, song, song, song!”
Eventually, Yi-ho burst out laughing because it was so absurd.
At some point, the way Min-gyu addressed Yi-ho had become slightly strange. It went from Song Yi-ho to “Song Yi-ho-ya” by adding a syllable, then to “Song-i” by cutting one off, and just now it was “Song-i Song.” Since he called him that so naturally that it would be embarrassing to point it out, Yi-ho just let him do as he pleased. He had been teased about his name throughout his school years, but the way Min-gyu called him felt slightly different.
Even as he shook with laughter, Min-gyu sang the children’s song to the very end. Because of that, they spent a good chunk of their energy laughing until their stomachs hurt right before their meal.
The cup noodles made with sparkling water tasted subtly different from those in Korea, but to tongues that had been eating greasy Western food for several days, it was magnificent. It took less than five minutes for two twenty-one-year-old men to empty their respective cup noodles. Thanks to their stomachs being filled with warmth, they fell asleep within an hour, their arms and legs slightly encroaching on the center of the bed.
The next day, the two fearlessly roamed every corner of the foreign land. Though no one had explicitly decided it, the theme of the trip had become “You can rest when you’re dead.” It was an itinerary where they didn’t let their butts touch a chair once, except for meal times. The cold was quickly forgotten in the novelty of the exotic scenery. Min-gyu felt inwardly grateful that Yi-ho followed the itinerary—which Min-gyu had largely planned on a whim—without a word of complaint.
“Song-i, go wash up. The hot water is running well right now.”
The radiator, which was loud but ineffective, provided little help with the heating today. Min-gyu came out of the bathroom wrapped in a large towel like a cape and went to the small dressing table. Applying lotion liberally to his face, he shouted once more toward the motionless bed.
“I told you to wash up. You’re going to fall asleep if you stay lying down!”
But gratitude was one thing, and other things were another. Since the journey was grueling, lying down on the bed for a moment to rest was okay. However, sleeping in one bed while covered in dust from various tourist sites and public transportation was unacceptable.
“Song Yi-ho.”
It was better to nag him awake now; once Song Yi-ho fell asleep, he wouldn’t know even if he were rolled all the way down the hallway.
But Yi-ho didn’t move in the end. Min-gyu walked toward the bed, rubbing the moisture out of his hair.
“Hey, hurry up and wash—… huh?”
The bed where Yi-ho had curled up in the corner saying, “I’ll wash up later!” was empty. Yi-ho wasn’t lying there; the blanket had just bunched up, creating a mound.
“Song Yi-ho?”
Knowing there was nowhere to hide in this small studio room, he looked around several times. Then, he discovered a note placed at the edge of the pillow.
[Stepped out for a bit – Song Yi-ho -]
‘What?’
The winter sun had set long ago, and it was the middle of the night. Looking at the coat rack, Yi-ho’s padded jacket was indeed gone.
Min-gyu stared at the empty space in bewilderment, his expression turning displeased.
I mean, if there was somewhere to go, he could have gone with me tomorrow. Why leave a single note and sneak off alone? This little thing.
…Well, he might have just gone down to the lobby on the ground floor. There’s a mart right next to it, so the way there wouldn’t be very dangerous. He’ll come back on his own….
Even as he told himself that, a strange anxiety, like something gnawing at his heart, wouldn’t go away.
Min-gyu called Yi-ho. The ringing continued for a long time. Once, twice, three times…. He pulled the phone away from his ear to check if he had called the right person. When the ringing passed ten times, he threw the towel he had been using to dry his hair.
He threw on some clothes haphazardly and slid his arms into his jumper. While waiting for the elevator, he realized he had come out wearing the room slippers instead of shoes, but feeling he didn’t have the luxury to go back, he just went down. There was no one who looked like Yi-ho in the shabby lobby that still hadn’t cleared away the outdated Christmas decorations, nor in the breakfast restaurant or the bar.
At this point, impatience surged. Surely nothing happened, right? Min-gyu walked around the lobby one more time aimlessly before deciding to go outside and look for him. At that moment, he was stopped by a lobby employee. The employee pointed to Min-gyu’s bare feet and room slippers. If he went out like this in this weather, he would get frostbite in no time. He didn’t even have time to think about that. Regretting that he hadn’t changed his shoes sooner, Min-gyu caught the elevator again.
His anxiety heightened even more than before. Did this guy get tricked by some strange people and sneak out without telling me? The problem was that Yi-ho had a vacant personality that made such a thing not surprising.
As soon as he stepped out of the elevator, he strode across the hallway. If the rug hadn’t absorbed the sound of his footsteps, the thumping would have echoed. And there, in front of their room, someone was crouching.
A familiar rounded head was curled up… lighting a candle on a small cake.
He was so focused on striking the match that he didn’t even notice someone had stopped within ten paces of him.
“Ugh, why won’t it light.”
Ssh, ssh. After a bit more effort, Yi-ho succeeded in starting a fire and lighting the candle on the cake.
In that moment, Min-gyu realized a fact he had forgotten.
February 18th. Today was his birthday.
Having completed the birthday cake, Yi-ho awkwardly and carefully lifted it up. Then, he faced a crisis. Since both his hands were occupied by the cake, there was no way to open the door.
“Cha Min-gyu. Cha Min-gyu. It’s me.”
Do you think that’ll be heard inside the room?
With a look of resignation, Yi-ho pressed the doorbell. Naturally, since there was no one inside the room, there was no answer.
“Ah, where did he go?”
‘That’s exactly what I was saying ten times earlier.’
“Ugh….”
Yi-ho eventually propped the cake up with his chest and one arm, fumbling in his pocket for the card key. Because of that movement, the cake board tilted to one side. And, from a direction Yi-ho couldn’t see, the cake began to slide off.
At the same time, Min-gyu lunged forward.