Kang-woo worried he might get chased out for being annoying if he started a conversation for no reason, but either way, he had nothing to lose.
“Yeah.”
Again, the man replied shortly without even sparing Kang-woo a glance. Kang-woo bent slightly at the waist and carefully examined the drawing on the tablet. The artwork was as intense as the person holding the pen.
At the center was a red rose, with sharp thorns jutting out roughly in every direction. Above it, a bird with a blue body and a multicolored tail spread its wings as if preparing to take flight.
“The drawing is really cool.”
The words that came out were pure admiration, not flattery. He’s definitely good at drawing. Did he graduate from an art college? As Kang-woo stared with sparkling eyes, he felt Seok-ho’s gaze from beside him.
When he turned his head, he collided with those pitch-black eyes. Seok-ho looked puzzled, as if he had expected Kang-woo to leave by now but found him still standing there. Kang-woo didn’t miss the moment his attention shifted toward him and quickly asked,
“Could you show me some of the other designs you’ve worked on?”
Seok-ho raised one eyebrow at the request.
“There’s nothing special.”
“I still want to see them. I’m curious.”
Kang-woo revealed a strong determination. He figured nothing would grab Seok-ho’s attention better than this. At the same time, he was genuinely curious about his other work.
Seok-ho hesitated for a moment before eventually giving in. He opened a folder and handed the tablet to Kang-woo.
“Just swipe to the side.”
Kang-woo nodded and accepted it carefully with both hands. Soon he began looking through Seok-ho’s drawings with a serious expression.
The designs were incredibly varied. Using materials like flowers, animals, geometric patterns, and lettering, the drawings all carried different atmospheres.
Seok-ho would often shut himself in his room until late at dawn, completely absorbed in his work. Perhaps because Kang-woo knew each and every one of these pieces had been created through hours of thinking and revisions, they all looked impressive and remarkable.
His gaze briefly stuck to Seok-ho’s fingers before drifting away. Even after seeing them again, it was hard to believe such delicate and intricate drawings came from those rough hands.
While slowly browsing through the gallery, Kang-woo lifted his head and met Seok-ho’s eyes.
“Do all of these drawings have meanings?”
“Some do, some don’t. It depends on the client, but most of the time they do.”
“I see.”
Kang-woo nodded and lowered his gaze back to the tablet.
What kinds of meanings were hidden in all these different drawings? Someone’s memories? Their hopes? Or maybe promises and vows. Perhaps each client’s personal story was woven into them. Thinking that made the designs feel different somehow.
Kang-woo examined the designs for quite a while with a focused expression. During that time, Seok-ho’s gaze remained fixed on Kang-woo’s face.
“Hyung, why did you become a tattooist?”
The question suddenly came to him. Why had he become a tattooist? Had he always been interested in it? Or had he grown curious about the profession after frequently getting tattoos on his own body?
Wasn’t that how it usually went? People started as consumers and eventually became creators themselves.
“Because I was bad at studying.”
Kang-woo froze, his hand stopping as he looked up at Seok-ho with startled eyes. Ah, so hyung became a tattooist because he wasn’t good at studying. The answer had come out so casually that he didn’t know how to react for a moment, but his voice came out calmer than expected.
“Are you joking?”
“Of course.”
His expression had been so serious that Kang-woo had expected a denial, but this answer was even more unexpected. Staring at his unmoving face, he couldn’t tell whether he should laugh or not. Instead of giving any clear reaction, Kang-woo quietly lowered his gaze.
“They’re all really cool. I’m terrible at drawing.”
Even after hearing the compliment, Seok-ho didn’t look embarrassed or pleased. With his usual indifferent expression, he simply watched Kang-woo silently.
“Thanks for letting me see.”
There were so many pieces that even skimming through them took quite a while. Only after reaching the end of the gallery did Kang-woo return the tablet to Seok-ho. At the same time, a sense of impending crisis crept in—like their conversation might soon come to an end.
“Don’t your neck and hands hurt if you keep working like this? You have to bend your head down and move your hands the whole time.”
Not wanting things to end like this, Kang-woo quickly tried to start another topic.
“Not really.”
Ah, this won’t do. The reply was just as short as before.
“You must be really sturdy.”
“Not sure.”
“Have you been to the hospital? These days people use their phones and computers so much that they say turtle neck syndrome is really bad.”
Trying desperately to keep the conversation going, Kang-woo found himself rambling on and on about pointless things. Seok-ho seemed to notice too, because he shut his mouth completely.
With his gaze alone, he questioned him. Why aren’t you leaving and just keep chattering?
Kang-woo noticed the unspoken message but pretended not to. After struggling so hard to open up the conversation, he couldn’t let this opportunity slip away. He planned to hold out at least until Seok-ho actually said the words “Get out.”
Quickly, Kang-woo changed the subject.
“Um… hyung, can I take a look at the tattoos on your arm?”
He knew it was a random request. But in order to build some sense of closeness, Kang-woo was willing to try anything.
To narrow the distance between people, some degree of physical contact was essential. Just like children grew closer while running around and bumping into each other, Kang-woo wondered if a similar approach might work for adults too.
Seok-ho stared at him with a dry expression. Facing those sharp eyes, Kang-woo tried not to be intimidated. Among everyone he knew, Seok-ho looked the scariest—but Kang-woo believed that was only his appearance. He didn’t think Seok-ho was actually a bad person.
“……”
“……”
Hmm… maybe not? As the silence stretched, Kang-woo began to feel slightly uneasy. But his worries were unnecessary. Seok-ho set his pen down and obediently extended his arm.
“Look.”
Kang-woo’s expression brightened as he stepped closer to his side. His gaze stuck to the firm forearm where veins protruded. It was the first time he had looked at Seok-ho’s body this closely. Compared to his own arm, it looked easily more than twice as thick.
Seeing that solid, well-built body right in front of him naturally made him compare it to his own. Well, doing that only made him feel bitter. Better stop comparing and focus on observing instead.
The first thing that caught his eye was the dragon tattoo and goblin tattoo that wrapped around both arms. Seeing them up close, the drawings were even more intricate than he had expected. Without realizing it, a small exclamation slipped from his lips.
His gaze slowly traveled down the arm until it reached the back of Seok-ho’s hand. There, an eagle with its wings fully spread was drawn. Every feather was rendered in fine detail, making it feel vivid and alive.
There were also various patterns on his finger joints, including flowers and fish. It almost seemed like there was more tattooed skin than untouched skin.
“What was the first tattoo you ever got?”
“This one.”
Seok-ho pointed with his right hand to the tattoo on the middle finger of his left hand. Looking closely, it was a snake coiled around a cross.
“You started with something really small.”
Kang-woo had expected that Seok-ho’s first tattoo would have been something huge. As if it didn’t matter that he had missed the expectation, Seok-ho replied in an even tone.
“I’d only just started holding a machine. I did it to practice tattooing on real skin for the first time.”
“Then… does that mean you tattooed this on yourself?”
“Yeah.”
Kang-woo looked up at Seok-ho with wide eyes.
“Why?”
“It’s just a little surprising. That a practice tattoo ended up being the very first tattoo of your life.”
He had assumed Seok-ho already had many tattoos on his body before deciding to become a tattooist. As Kang-woo wondered if that assumption had been a kind of prejudice, Seok-ho’s answer followed.
“I wanted the first tattoo on my body to be done by my own hands.”
Kang-woo hadn’t really asked expecting a reason. But unexpectedly, Seok-ho continued speaking on his own.
“Because it was my first piece.”
People often attach special meaning to the single word first. First impression, first love, first breakup, first job. At the time, those moments feel unfamiliar, new, sometimes frightening, sometimes painful—but when you look back later, all the emotions you felt become precious memories.
For Seok-ho, what kind of memory was his first tattoo?
Kang-woo gently brushed the small black snake with his thumb.
“What does this one mean?”
Since it was his first tattoo, Kang-woo assumed it must carry some kind of meaning, even if it wasn’t anything grand. And his guess was correct.
“A snake shedding its skin.”
A snake shedding its skin? What did that mean? As Kang-woo wondered, Seok-ho added,
“You can’t gain something new without discarding the old.”
“Ah.”
Kang-woo let out a small sound, his eyes lighting up.
“So it means you can’t gain anything without pain?”
“That’s right.”
It felt like solving a riddle, and Kang-woo felt strangely proud.
“When a snake sheds its skin, the process includes everything—from its eyes to the inside of its nostrils and even its mouth. It’s never easy. But only by going through that process can it truly grow.”
Kang-woo nodded as he listened carefully to the steady voice. Now that he understood the meaning behind it, the small snake looked a little different.
“Didn’t it hurt?”
“It did. Tattooists practice a lot on their own skin to feel that pain on purpose. It’s important to know how much it hurts from the customer’s perspective.”
As he talked about the professional side of things, Seok-ho became slightly more talkative than usual. Of course, his face still looked as expressionless as ever.
Kang-woo’s expression also turned serious as he listened attentively. What had started as a topic just to keep the conversation going now had him completely focused on Seok-ho’s low voice.
His gaze, which had been on the finger, moved past the wrist and returned to the muscular forearm. Kang-woo traced the fearsome dragon wrapped around Seok-ho’s right arm with his fingertips.
“Did you do this dragon tattoo yourself too, hyung?”
“No. The hyung who taught me tattooing did that one.”
“Ahh.”
Kang-woo nodded with a small sound. Since something like this was so large, it must have cost a lot. As he estimated the price in his head, he suddenly felt a sharp gaze from somewhere.
Without thinking, Kang-woo lifted his head—and met Seok-ho’s glossy eyes head-on.
“Ah, sorry.”
