#47

He curled his right hand into a circle and blew out a puff of air. There was no way the smell of cigarettes wouldn’t linger. He rummaged through the console box, searching for mouth spray. After spraying it into his mouth, he checked his breath again. He acted just like a delinquent caught smoking by the school principal. He burst out laughing.

Even after all that fuss, the man was only about halfway here. Still, he looked like a person, not just a dot. He could tell that the man had a towel around his neck, and that he was wearing the new jeans Tae-heun had bought him, not his usual worn-out ones.

The man looked like a drowned rat. Tae-heun held an umbrella over him as he drew closer. The man wiped his face with the towel.

“You came early.”

After a long pause, he finally spoke. His voice was hoarse.

“Yes. My work finished sooner than expected. How about you, Ki-beom? Do you have a lot left to do?”

“Almost finished.”

The man didn’t show any particular sign of welcome. His eyes, glistening with water, were excessively dark, making it impossible to read his emotions, but Tae-heun could tell he had been waiting for him. A blue vein bulged on the back of the man’s hand, which was gripping the towel.

“Didn’t you want to see me? I wanted to see you so much.”

It was the truth.

Thinking it was a joke, the man smiled faintly. Water droplets fell from his raincoat and wet hair. He wiped them away with the towel. Tae-heun crushed some weeds with the toe of his shoe, and the man spread them back out with his boot. The two awkwardly played with their feet.

“I was going to have pancakes and makgeolli after work. Want to join?”

The man asked. His voice was still hoarse, and he cleared his throat with a “hm hm.”

“Sure. Perfect weather for it.”

“Go to the community center first. Gi-cheol hyung will be there. We decided to eat at Yongjun’s place.”

“Let’s go together. Isn’t there anything I can help with?”

The man nudged Tae-heun’s shoe with his boot and shook his head. It was a roundabout way of saying, “How can you work wearing those?” Tae-heun laughed. This time, Tae-heun tapped the man’s boot with his shoe. The man, looking down at his feet with his head bowed, curled up the corners of his mouth.

“It’ll take about an hour more.”

The man put the towel back around his neck.

“It’s not long. Hurry up and finish your work.”

“Yes. Um, you really can go ahead.”

“Okay. I’ll manage.”

The man looked up. A droplet of water clung to the end of his long, dark eyelashes. Tae-heun raised his hand.

“Just a moment.”

As if worried about getting it in his eye, he curled his fingers and brought them close to the man’s eyebrow. The man tilted his head back. His face flushed. He was glad to see him. That dark face, always reddening at the slightest thing.

A droplet of water rolled down his cheek like a tear as the man blinked. He roughly wiped it away with his large, rough hand. Tae-heun lowered his hand.

“Good work. Don’t work too hard.”

“Yes.”

The man immediately backed away and took off his umbrella. He retraced his steps, a little faster than when he came to Tae-heun. He grew distant again, soon becoming a mere dot.

Tae-heun became a spectator once more.

Back in the car, he took out his cigarette case and put a cigarette in his mouth. His cheeks kept puffing out. One by one, cigarette butts accumulated at his feet. He scratched his eyebrow with a cigarette held between his fingers, tirelessly watching the man from where he stood.

It had only been two days. To be exact, a little over a day. He wasn’t a close acquaintance, nor a childhood friend he was inseparable from, much less someone they were madly in love with. Yet, he missed the man. He missed the man’s faded red boots, the cheap detergent smell from his laundry. He longed for those small everyday moments: doing homework and playing air hockey with the child next to him while the man ironed; watching a boring daily drama while the man swept the yard; the neatly folded laundry; most of all, the meals they shared together.

Tae-heun mostly drank. He washed away his longing with alcohol.

While the people gathered at the safe house ate and rested, he sat with the ledger, diligently writing his explanation. He proved it.

‘I don’t think we’ll need to call Mr. Lee Seonjae again. He said he wanted to go to Canada, right? That will happen soon.’

The prosecutor in charge, whose code name was Wolf 1, spoke confidently as he received the final ledger.

Thanks to his relentless insomnia, he was able to return to Dongjam-ri sooner than expected.

Tae-heun had a lot to say to the man.

“Today is the last day of my funeral. It’s raining, and the atmosphere is killer, right? How was the funeral? What’s there to say? It was amazing.”

He chuckled to himself, letting out a series of snorts.

While he was at the safe house, the officers who had summoned him relayed the atmosphere of the funeral. Contrary to expectations, Lee Seonjae’s funeral was a private family affair with no mourners. There were no chrysanthemums, no wailing mother or siblings. Just a large print of Lee Seonjae’s life photograph and incense. It was so simple that the detective disguised as a hospital employee who managed Lee Seonjae’s funeral was taken aback.

Damn. Serves Lee Seonjae right.

He laughed like a madman in front of Officer Oh, who was worried.

He hadn’t wanted a flashy funeral. At the very least, he had hoped that Lee Seokdu and Lee Hyunjun would wear armbands and mourning clothes for Lee Seonjae. But they didn’t. Perhaps they felt he wasn’t worth it. Lee Seonjae was nothing more than Lee Seokdu’s loyal dog.

Tae-heun decided to forget about Lee Seonjae after hearing that Ilgwang Financial was conducting a large-scale recruitment to find a replacement. He should have forgotten him long ago; he had been clinging to a dead man.

“It’s all thanks to you. If it weren’t for Ki-beom, I’d still have a lot of regrets. I was really successful. The big shots would fawn all over me. I received incredible hospitality. Didn’t you know? I wasn’t an important person, but I was quite successful.”

He started thinking about the man from the moment he left Dongjam-ri. He felt uneasy about not having properly enjoyed the kimchi jjigae the man had made for him before leaving. He hadn’t anticipated that unease turning into longing.

These days, Tae-heun couldn’t handle his emotions. Was he going through a late adolescence? He was incredibly sentimental. He was overwhelmed by longing, going beyond affection and regret, and was taken aback by the realization that he missed him. He found it absurd to feel this way—a feeling that should be reserved for a lover—towards a strong man he wasn’t even aroused by, even after seeing him naked, a man who was also a father.

He blew out a long stream of smoke. He even made rings. The rain fell steadily, and the man, now a dot, showed no sign of returning.

His left hand, holding the umbrella, was stiff. His trouser legs had been soaked to the knees for a long time, and rainwater had seeped into his leather shoes. His socks were, of course, damp. Yet, Tae-heun stood still, watching the man. He watched him anxiously, fearing he would disappear with each flicker of the dot.

The man didn’t disappear. It took longer than expected, but he returned to Tae-heun. The man in the red boots and yellow raincoat came back under Tae-heun’s umbrella. Tae-heun felt a thrill. He trembled as he welcomed the man.

“You’re here?”

Tae-heun said.

“I’m sorry for making you wait so long.”

“It’s okay. I wasn’t bored at all.”

He winked.

“Let’s go.”

When Tae-heun pointed to the Benz, the man hesitated, looking down at his clothes.

“It’s okay to get in wearing your raincoat.”

“The truck….”

“Let’s go in my car. I can do that much, right?”

The man didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he looked towards where the truck was parked.

Tae-heun grabbed the man’s wrist. The man flinched. He thought he would pull away, but he soon let go of Tae-heun’s hand, saying, “Okay.” Despite his nonchalant voice, his face, and even his neck, were flushed.

Tae-heun was equally surprised. His hand had moved on its own. He had grabbed the man’s wrist so hard that it had turned white.

Should he just leave with the man like this? Where to? Anywhere.

What about the child? Should he tell Sojin’s sister to take care of him? It’s quite possible.

He was lost in idle thoughts when they arrived at the community center.

Tae-heun took off his shoes and socks and washed his feet. The man nonchalantly undressed in front of Tae-heun, exposing his genitals and buttocks, and meticulously lathered himself with soap. Tae-heun openly stared at the man’s naked body while washing his feet right next to him. Again, he didn’t feel aroused or sexually tense. The man didn’t seem to mind Tae-heun either. If he had, he wouldn’t have dared to undress.

The man didn’t blush while drying himself with the towel Tae-heun gave him. The face that flushed at the slightest word didn’t react at all when he was naked.

It was strange. It wasn’t friendship. It was clearly affection. But could it not be sexual love? Affection and sexual love were inseparable. It was unthinkable that he wouldn’t be physically aroused by the person he longed to see so much.

The love Tae-heun knew couldn’t be discussed without sex. When they met, he would get excited, want to do it, and do it. And when he didn’t want to do it anymore, they broke up. That was love. But was it not? He was confused.

“Why are you so late?”

The youth president grumbled as soon as he saw the man. He had wondered why he was sitting on the sofa, but it seemed he was eager to go drinking.

“I’m sorry, hyung. Work finished later than expected.”

“Don’t be sloppy. Tsk. Let’s go quickly. Yongjun said he’s already prepared.”

“Yes.”

The youth president, who belatedly saw Tae-heun, quickly smoothed his furrowed brow.

“Kim Siljang! When did you get back?”

“Just now.”

“That’s good. You’re lucky with food, aren’t you?”

He led Tae-heun forward. Because of that, the man was pushed back. Tae-heun turned to look at the man. The man followed without any change in expression. His body, clad in slippers, swayed slightly.