#14

Tae-heun bent down again to match the child’s eye level.

“Alright. I won’t say anything. Instead…”

He paused for a moment after saying this. The child swallowed hard.

“Instead?”

“You have to call me ‘oppa.'”

The child scrunched up his lips and said, “I don’t want to.” Then he dashed up onto the porch. The dogs, following the child, turned around and barked at Tae-heun. Startled by their sudden approach, Tae-heun took a step back.

“Hey! Come down and tie up the dogs. If they bite me, Ji-hye will be responsible!”

“Our Mansu and Mugang don’t bite people.”

The child slipped inside the sliding door, peeking out with just his head.

Tae-heun, who had been pressed against the gate because of the dogs, grumbled as soon as the man entered.

“Why are you so late? I’ve been standing here for a while.”

The man felt awkward about Tae-heun’s friendly demeanor, but he didn’t scold him. He simply caught the dogs that were excited to see their owner and tied them up. Tae-heun couldn’t tell which dog was Mansu and which was Mugang, but one small dog bared its teeth and growled fiercely at him. Whether it was a daughter or a dog, the little ones were quite something.

“Isn’t that Damas too dangerous? It looked like it was about to topple over earlier.”

Tae-heun naturally followed the man to the porch.

“Sir, you really aren’t a beggar, right?”

The child asked with a bright face.

“Have you ever seen a beggar this handsome? No, right?”

“A beggar can be handsome, but he’s still a beggar.”

The child didn’t back down.

The man, looking a bit troubled, chided the child gently, saying, “Apologize to the sir quickly.”

His voice was low and quiet, but the child nodded and bowed toward Tae-heun.

“Sir, I’m sorry for calling you a beggar.”

It wasn’t a loud scolding, but the child sulked and went back inside. Tae-heun felt awkward for no reason.

“I do look a bit like a beggar. I’ve been climbing mountains for a long time.”

“…Yes.”

He could have asked why he was climbing mountains or why he looked that way, but the man was not very talkative.

“Brother Daeho didn’t say anything….”

He turned the question around, asking why he was here.

“I just felt a bit stifled. I wanted to get some fresh air.”

He smiled at the man.

The man became flustered when he made eye contact with Tae-heun and turned his head, pretending to wipe sweat with a towel. His ears and neck turned bright red. It was hard to tell if he was naturally shy or if he had some other interest in Tae-heun, but either way, it was a sign of affection, so it wasn’t a bad thing.

“I should have come with Brother Daeho. Seeing how uncomfortable the boss is.”

At Tae-heun’s words, the man kept his mouth tightly shut as he took off his rubber boots.

Tae-heun sat next to him and looked up at the blazing sun.

“It’s really hot, isn’t it?”

“…….”

“I wonder how much hotter it’s going to get this year.”

He muttered to himself, and the man, sensing the discomfort, finally spoke up.

“If you need anything, please let me know. Brother Daeho said he would prepare everything, but still.”

The man trailed off.

“I don’t need anything. Don’t worry about it.”

“Yes… um.”

“Tae-heun. Kim Tae-heun.”

“Um, we’re having lunch. Would you like to join us?”

The moment he heard the word lunch, Tae-heun’s stomach growled. After nearly starving and climbing a mountain, it was no surprise he was hungry. The man seemed to hear the sound and went up to the porch without waiting for a response.

“Please wait a moment. It’s noodles, so it’ll be ready soon.”

The man looked down at Tae-heun and said.

“Come in and wash up while I prepare. I’ll get you some underwear and clothes to change into.”

“I’m fine.”

“The child keeps calling you a beggar, so I’m a bit concerned.”

At the serious words of the man, Tae-heun burst into a laugh.

“Do I really look that much like a beggar?”

The man didn’t answer and went inside.

Tae-heun, who had wanted to wash up anyway, followed the man’s suggestion without refusing.

The inside of the house was much cleaner than he had imagined. There was no smell of a bachelor or the typical scent of a countryside home.

The layout was ordinary. In the square-shaped living room and kitchen, there was a straight sink and a four-person dining table. To the right of the living room was a sliding door leading to the bedroom, and to the left were two ordinary wooden doors. The innermost room was probably the one Tae-heun would use. Right in front of his room was a bathroom combined with a toilet.

Before long, the man prepared a change of clothes and a towel and handed them to Tae-heun.

“I’ll treat your feet after lunch. If you leave them as they are, it’ll be a big problem.”

“Thank you.”

Even for such a simple expression of gratitude, the man’s face turned red. He wobbled and limped as he hurried to the kitchen.

Tae-heun’s gaze naturally fell on the man’s legs. He had changed into shorts, and both legs were clearly visible. Contrary to his expectations, they were both straight and long. The left leg seemed to be the problematic one. It was slightly thinner and bent outward compared to the right, but it didn’t show any significant signs of disability.

Feeling guilty for staring too long, he cleared his throat and headed to the bathroom. The bathroom was also clean. It had the most basic style, equipped with a toilet, shower, sink, and a small bathroom cabinet. The tiles were old and worn, with cracks here and there, but it seemed they cleaned it diligently, as there was no sign of water stains or mold. Naturally, there was no smell either.

The water was filthy. Every time it touched his wounds, he grimaced involuntarily, but at the same time, he felt exhilarated. Crazy. He laughed to himself as he carefully washed his entire body and the area around his wounds. The towel was excessively white compared to what the man had used. It seemed like he had brought the newest one he had.

After washing with cold water, his pale face flushed. Complaining about how great he was, he shook his wet hair. Had he lost some muscle? He turned his body this way and that in front of the mirror. It was inevitable that he would lose weight when he wasn’t eating well. What a pity. He grumbled as he dried off.

Then he put on the clothes the man had given him. It was a black cotton T-shirt and black shorts, just like what the man wore. The clothes smelled of cheap powder detergent, but it wasn’t too bad. He sniffed the fabric, thinking it was quite nice.

As he stepped out of the bathroom, he felt the heat. It was the heat coming from the kitchen. The man, who had boiled anchovy broth and cooked the noodles, was so busy preparing a late lunch that he didn’t notice Tae-heun had come out.

“Ji-hye, could you take out some young radish kimchi from the fridge?”

“Yes.”

Tae-heun answered. The man turned around in surprise. The child, hearing the man’s voice, quickly dashed out, ending the awkward situation.

“Wow.”

The child looked up at Tae-heun in admiration. Tae-heun, placing his hands on his hips like a model, struck a pose, and the child stuck out his tongue. Then he hurried to the fridge, took out the kimchi, and handed it to the man.

The man patted the child’s head and said, “Then I can’t use it.” The man, who had eyes on the back of his head, didn’t sound scolding at all. He was genuinely affectionate. For some reason, that made Tae-heun feel sulky.

When Tae-heun was about the same age as that child, he had never received such treatment from his mother or father. What was so affectionate? He had never even been scolded. He had shouted, cried, and cursed, but all he received in return was indifference. He had been treated like a transparent human being.

His appetite vanished. He thought he should leave, wondering what he was doing here. The man, unaware of Tae-heun’s feelings, busily prepared a late lunch for the three of them.

“Director, please sit down. I wonder if it will suit your taste.”

“My father’s noodles are really delicious!”

Both the man and the child said simultaneously.

It was too late to refuse. Reluctantly, he sat at the table. The man carefully rolled the noodles into a cold noodle bowl, topped them with shredded cucumber and young radish kimchi, and then carefully poured the cold broth, which he had made cold by adding ice, over the noodles. Young radish kimchi noodles. It was a summer delicacy that Tae-heun could at least say he liked.

“Thank you for the meal.”

The child shouted loudly and picked up his chopsticks first. The man, like an ordinary parent, didn’t scold the child with the cliché that adults eat first. Instead, he looked at the child with a pleased expression.

Tae-heun hadn’t noticed it under the sunlight, but now that he was indoors, the man didn’t look like a father at all. He could easily pass for the child’s older brother. At most, he looked like a young uncle. This young-looking man was doing his best to be a father to his child.

Tae-heun felt a surge of emotion for no reason. It wasn’t even adolescence, and he found it ridiculous that he was feeling jealous watching someone else’s father care for his child. Maybe it was time for him to die. He picked up his chopsticks to compose himself. He thought he wouldn’t be able to bring back his lost appetite. Just out of courtesy, he planned to take a bite or two. To his surprise, it was delicious enough to bring tears to his eyes.

It was so delicious that his brows furrowed involuntarily. The anchovy broth was rich but not fishy, and whatever he had added was perfectly seasoned. The young radish kimchi was among the top five he had ever eaten. It was crunchy, tangy, and sweet.

Tae-heun looked up at the man.

“Is it to your liking?”

The man asked cautiously. The child, who had been burying his head in the cold noodle bowl next to the man, looked at his father as if to say, “What are you talking about?”

“Just finish it!”

Tae-heun’s reply, mimicking an advertisement slogan, made the man smile shyly.

The child looked at Tae-heun as if to say, “See?” and then buried his head back into the cold noodle bowl. The little guy was eating really well. Before Tae-heun could finish, the child shouted to his father for “one more bowl.” The father hadn’t even finished half of his own.