Kang-woo belatedly realized that, while examining it closely, he had unconsciously been kneading and fiddling with Seok-ho’s arm. Startled, he quickly withdrew his hand and clasped both hands behind his back. It occurred to him that touching someone else’s skin as if it were his own might have felt unpleasant.
“I got fascinated while looking at it and ended up kneading it without realizing. I’m sorry.”
He ended up flustering in a way that didn’t suit him. Thanks to that, the atmosphere became even more strange and ambiguous. He should probably stop bothering him here. Even this much could be considered a big step forward.
“You should continue your work. I’ll head out now.”
Kang-woo stepped back, then hurriedly turned around. Just as he was about to leave the room, something came to mind and he turned back again.
“Make sure you eat all the apples. Don’t forget because you’re working.”
Only after reminding him several times to finish them—because they would have to be thrown away otherwise—did Kang-woo finally close the door. At the same time, silence instantly settled over the room.
Since he must have been walking quietly, not even the sound of footsteps could be heard beyond the closed door. Seok-ho’s gaze shifted to the plate of apples. He stabbed a slice with his fork and held it closer to his eyes.
“…How do you even do something like this?”
The apple slices had been carefully carved into small rabbit shapes, leaving bits of the peel behind to form the ears. The sight was striking.
Without realizing it, Seok-ho let out a faint chuckle. His gaze lingered on the pointed rabbit ears for quite a while before eventually shifting to his own forearm.
It felt as though the sensation of someone kneading and touching his skin was still there. The image of the other person’s face—earnest as he closely examined his arm—refused to fade from his mind.
Soon, Seok-ho spun his chair around and picked up his pen.
Let’s just work.
He flicked the pen around between his fingers a few times before eventually immersing himself in his work again as if nothing had happened.
Of course, he didn’t forget to occasionally pop a slice of apple into his mouth—just as someone had reminded him to do.
***
Kyung-wook raised a long finger and pressed the doorbell.
Ding-dong.
When the clear chime rang out, he waited with both hands tucked into his pants pockets. Before long, the heavy metal door opened with a deep sound.
Stepping inside, he swept his gaze across the old-fashioned interior. After passing the yellowed lawn and climbing the stone steps, a familiar figure greeted him.
“What brings you all the way here, Kyung-wook?”
President Kim, who had come out to the entrance himself, welcomed him warmly. Kyung-wook responded with a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Hello, sir.”
“Yes. Come in.”
Kyung-wook climbed the last step and stopped in front of President Kim. Naturally, Kyung-wook’s eye level was more than a palm higher than the other man’s.
“You’ve grown even taller since the last time I saw you.”
“Have I?”
“You certainly have. You’re practically a full adult now.”
President Kim’s eyes brimmed with the satisfaction of someone looking at a son who had grown up well.
“This isn’t the place to talk. Let’s go inside first.”
Still smiling, President Kim led Kyung-wook further into the house. Kyung-wook followed behind the man, who was smaller in build than himself.
As they passed the front door and walked down the hallway, Kyung-wook’s sharp eyes scanned every corner of the house.
But no matter how much he looked around, there wasn’t a single trace of Kim Kang-woo anywhere.
Was the guy really not here? Had he truly gone off to Australia alone, just like the adults said?
Without even getting my permission.
Kyung-wook’s gaze narrowed. His long strides suddenly halted mid-step.
A photograph of Kang-woo smiling brightly inside a frame had entered his view.
Without realizing it, Kyung-wook walked closer to it.
When was the last time I saw him smile like that?
With the tip of his finger, he lightly tapped the round face in the photo, where the cheeks were plump.
Whether in childhood or now, his face hadn’t changed at all. Those gentle eyes curved slightly as they looked this way.
For some reason, Kyung-wook didn’t like that. His gaze clung to the photograph for a long time.
“Kyung-wook.”
Hearing President Kim call out to him—asking what he was doing there—Kyung-wook withdrew his hand.
Turning around, he walked toward the man who was waiting ahead.
After passing through the long hallway, the two moved to the sofa in the center of the reception room. From the large speakers covering one wall, a sweet classical melody flowed out—whether for show or simply due to refined taste, it was hard to tell.
“Hello, ma’am.”
Kyung-wook glanced around the reception room before greeting the housekeeper who brought out refreshments. She smiled, the corners of her wrinkled mouth lifting as she rubbed her clasped hands together.
“Yes. It’s been a long time, young master Kyung-wook.”
“How have you been?”
“Oh, I’ve been the same as always—nothing major happening.”
Kyung-wook knew her personality well. Whenever he came here to visit and ran into her, she would always speak kindly and warmly to him.
But today, something about her expression seemed strangely dark. On top of that, she glanced at President Kim as if watching his reaction before forcing an awkward smile.
Kyung-wook didn’t bother asking about her vague reaction. Today, the person he intended to question wasn’t her.
With a gentle smile, Kyung-wook lifted his teacup and took a sip.
“Thank you. I’ll enjoy the fruit.”
“Mrs. Jung, you may leave now.”
President Kim, who had been watching the two of them, gave the housekeeper an order.
“Ah, yes, sir.”
She bowed politely before quickly disappearing beyond the door. Only after the reception room door had fully closed did Kyung-wook turn his head.
President Kim sat on the head sofa, wearing a gentle smile.
“It’s been a really long time since I’ve come to this house. I used to visit a lot with Kang-woo before.”
“Yes. But why haven’t you come by at all lately? You two could’ve come and studied together. And eat something good before leaving. You used to like the soybean paste stew Mrs. Jung made.”
While President Kim kept talking, Kyung-wook’s eyes wandered around the room.
Eventually, they stopped on one side of the wall. He pointed toward a frame containing a large sunflower painting.
“I think there used to be a photograph hanging there. You changed it.”
“Ah, that.”
President Kim cleared his throat lightly before answering in a gentle voice.
“It was a rather old photo, so I moved it somewhere else.”
“I see.”
If I remember correctly, it was a family photo.
Kyung-wook hesitated over whether he should add that remark, then rubbed his chin and let out a long breath.
“Sir.”
“Yes, Kyung-wook.”
“But where is Kang-woo?”
At this point, the pleasantries seemed sufficient. Pushing aside unnecessary chatter, he brought up the real topic directly.
The moment the question was asked, a crack formed in President Kim’s smile.
But it lasted only for a moment. After showing that brief disturbance, he quickly regained his composure.
Watching President Kim carefully choose his words with a calm expression, Kyung-wook added,
“Kang-woo hasn’t been coming to school, and he hasn’t answered my calls either. That’s never happened before.”
“Kyung-wook, you must have already heard from your father, but Kang-woo went to Australia for language training.”
Kyung-wook sank deeply into the back of the sofa.
Hearing the explanation directly from the very person who had come up with such a ridiculous excuse felt strangely novel.
Aren’t you even embarrassed? Telling such an obvious lie.
Ah, right. Businessmen and politicians usually have thick skin. They don’t feel ashamed even when they look ridiculous.
When Kyung-wook remained silent, President Kim continued rambling on with further explanations.
“A friend I know in Australia suddenly told me a good opportunity had opened up and recommended it, so things moved quickly. Kang-woo said he couldn’t tell you personally because it all happened so suddenly. He’ll probably have a hard time contacting anyone or meeting people for a while as he adjusts to the new environment. I heard you even found a place for the two of you to stay together, so I’m truly sorry things turned out like this. Once he returns to Korea, we plan to pack his belongings and send them over, so please don’t worry too much.”
President Kim recited the excuses smoothly, like someone who had rehearsed the same lines several times.
Of course, to Kyung-wook, it all sounded like complete nonsense.
After waiting for him to finish speaking, Kyung-wook pushed up his eyebrow with a finger and let out a short laugh.
“Why would you send him for language training when the CSAT is less than a month away? What about Kang-woo graduating from high school? If he’s absent for more than three months, he’ll automatically have to repeat the year. You do know he’ll have to return and attend school again, right?”
In a calm tone, Kyung-wook pointed out the problems one by one. President Kim made a low sound in his throat, like someone who had just been asked an uncomfortable question.
“Kang-woo was very firm about it, so there wasn’t much I could do. He really wanted to go to Australia. As for graduating high school, he can take the qualification exam, and the CSAT isn’t something that only happens once a year. There’s no reason to rush. I respect my son’s wishes.”
“Ah, I had no idea you were such an open-minded person, sir. I’m learning that for the first time today. So then—how long is Kang-woo staying there?”
“That hasn’t been decided yet. We’ll have to see how things go.”
Kyung-wook twisted the corner of his mouth upward.
The excuse he had barely managed to come up with was so sloppy that Kyung-wook could hardly stand listening to it.
“Sir.”
Perhaps sensing the sudden shift in Kyung-wook’s tone, President Kim’s face gradually stiffened. Watching the corners of his lips tremble slightly, Kyung-wook furrowed his brows.
“Do you really think such an absurd excuse would work on me? There’s no sincerity in your lie. Just because my father brushed it off doesn’t mean I will.”
Kyung-wook replied without blinking, staring directly at President Kim.
After a suffocating silence, he added in a mocking tone,
“Are you trying to remove Kang-woo somewhere completely out of sight? Because you’ve gotten so tired of him you can’t even stand to see his face anymore?”
President Kim’s expression hardened even further. The corners of his mouth now drooped heavily downward, as if weighed down.
In contrast, Kyung-wook let out a low laugh.
“Just because you don’t love your son very much doesn’t mean you should treat Kang-woo like that.”
“Kyung-wook.”
“Sir, think carefully.”
Interrupting President Kim, Kyung-wook interlocked his fingers and leaned his upper body forward.
“Kang-woo isn’t the kind of person who’d go somewhere alone without telling me. Not unless he’s gone crazy.”
His curved eyes glinted coldly.
At the same time, a powerful pheromone scent began spreading throughout the wide living room.
It was a warning. A warning not to make him any angrier.
President Kim pressed his lips together and stared at Kyung-wook. Those dark brown eyes were fearless—just the gaze alone felt as though it were tightening around someone’s throat.
“Kang-woo is going to graduate from university in Korea with me. Even if he goes to Australia, it’ll be with me. There’s no version of his life where I’m not in it. I’ve told you again and again, haven’t I? Don’t even think about separating Kim Kang-woo from my side.”
Kyung-wook warned him in a low voice.
President Kim’s face gradually turned pale.
Until then, Kyung-wook had still been wearing a deliberate smile—but in an instant, his expression changed.
The gaze directed at President Kim now carried a cold, chilling light.
