93.
“Alright. Let’s go see her.”
After finishing their meal, Haseo got back into the car. Before he could enter, Choi Mujin stepped forward and opened the door for him. Then he took the driver’s seat himself and headed somewhere.
Haseo remained silent, just staring out the window. The scenery passing by became increasingly unfamiliar. The car eventually left the city and stopped in front of a fairly large hospital.
“Let’s get out.”
Once again, Choi Mujin got out first and helped Haseo exit the vehicle. Though Haseo tried to appear calm, his hands had begun to tremble slightly. It was the first time he was facing this reality since learning of his grandmother’s death.
Fear rose with each step he took. He wanted to see his grandmother. But he also didn’t want to. Even though he had accepted her death, the desire to avoid confronting it remained. Still, Haseo decided not to run away.
They went down to the basement of the hospital and walked along a long corridor. No matter how long the corridor was, it had to end somewhere. And at that end, Choi Mujin opened a door. His grandmother was inside.
Lying on the elevated platform, his grandmother looked different from what he had imagined. Her hair was neatly combed, and she wore an elegant hanbok, looking so beautiful. Knowing she had never looked like this while alive, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“Grandmother.”
He thought her face might hold resentment, that her final journey might not have been peaceful.
“Grandmother…”
As he called out to her, his eyes suddenly caught a name tag attached to one side.
[Kim Sukja]
His grandmother’s life, which had seemed only painful, was over. He had tried to hold onto her somehow, but couldn’t until the end. Perhaps that was for the best. His grandmother was such a good person that she surely went to heaven. There would be no pain or suffering there.
Haseo looked at her peaceful face, as if she were merely sleeping, and reached out to touch her cheek.
“Grandmother. Thank you for everything all this time.”
This was truly goodbye now. As he finished speaking, a tear rolled down Haseo’s cheek. Finally, the tears he had been holding back burst forth like a broken dam. He cried and cried. Until he was exhausted from sobbing and nearly collapsed, Choi Mujin remained by his side.
“What do you want to do about the funeral?”
Choi Mujin was the first to bring it up.
“Ah, the funeral…”
“You can do whatever you want.”
“There’s no one to attend.”
If the funeral hall were empty, his grandmother would feel too lonely. But there was no one he could invite.
“I’ll make sure people come. You can bury her if you want, or you can cremate her.”
Haseo’s eyelids trembled. The reality that he was now completely alone and had to make all these decisions made his heart sink once more.
“You can take your time deciding.”
Despite Choi Mujin’s consideration, Haseo shook his head.
“No. I want to cremate her. And I want to keep the funeral as short as possible.”
Though he wanted to be with his grandmother longer, he had to be realistic. Right now, Choi Mujin was acting as if he would do anything for him, but he wasn’t originally that kind of person. He had given Haseo many things, but he had also hurt him with harsh words.
Haseo wished he could return to the house where he used to live and handle everything by himself. But his circumstances wouldn’t allow it. The debt he had compared to the money he possessed was too great. Unless he paid everything back to Choi Mujin, Haseo wasn’t free. In this situation, acting independently against Choi Mujin was quite difficult.
It might even seem shameless. Nevertheless, Haseo wanted to know what was in Choi Mujin’s heart that made him act this way.
“Are you really okay with this?”
Why would someone who once said he’d buy the night with money look at him with such eyes?
“Yes, it’s fine. I’m sorry to say this, but please add it to my debt.”
Choi Mujin seemed surprised by Haseo’s naturally flowing words.
“I’m sorry for being brazen. But I will definitely pay it all back.”
“I see.”
A dry voice answered calmly.
As expected, the funeral hall was empty. Haseo had stopped Choi Mujin from calling people. What difference would it make if strangers came? Besides, he knew what kind of people they would be. So only a few people visited the funeral hall—only those whose faces he had seen and spoken with. That meant Choi Mujin and his subordinates.
Haseo wore a black suit to greet them. Actually, “greeting” wasn’t the right word. They had been together from the start.
His grandmother had lived a hard life, yet so few people came to see her off. Not that he thought of inviting his father or mother. His mother had a new family, and he didn’t know his father’s situation.
The funeral lasted three days. Afterward, they cremated his grandmother in her beautiful attire, and Haseo received the urn containing her ashes. He could have placed the urn somewhere else, but for now, he decided to take it with him.
Though he had been away from home for several days, nothing much had changed. Haseo placed the urn on the living room table and sighed. Despite having few visitors at the funeral, he had barely slept, determined to stay by his grandmother’s side until the very end. Because of this, as soon as he leaned back on the sofa, drowsiness crept in.
“You should go to bed.”
Choi Mujin said this, but Haseo couldn’t move. Seeming to understand, Choi Mujin carefully lifted him up and carried him to the bedroom, placing him on the bed.
“Sleep well.”
As Choi Mujin greeted him and was about to leave, Haseo grabbed him.
“Stay.”
He didn’t want to sleep alone tonight. He felt Choi Mujin’s gaze on his closed eyes, then felt the bed dip on one side. Soon, a large, warm body embraced him.
He slept deeply for the first time in a long while. When Haseo opened his eyes, he noticed his body felt strangely heavy. It didn’t take long to realize who was causing that weight. Choi Mujin was sleeping with him.
‘Why?’
Searching his memory, it seemed he had indeed pulled Choi Mujin into bed himself. Yet it was surprising that he had complied. Haseo looked at Choi Mujin’s sleeping face with a curious expression. Then he raised a finger and poked his smooth cheek. Even so, Choi Mujin was in deep sleep and didn’t open his eyes.
“Hmm.”
This time, Haseo was more daring. He took two fingers and pinched Choi Mujin’s nose. He thought blocking his breathing would cause some reaction, but even after several minutes, nothing happened.
“What’s going on?”
Is he still breathing? Haseo released Choi Mujin’s nose and put his ear to his chest. His heart was beating properly. But why didn’t he react when his breathing was blocked? Shouldn’t his mouth have opened? As he raised his head in confusion, he found Choi Mujin looking at him.
“Huh?”
Only then did Haseo realize Choi Mujin had been playing along.
“You’re so slow.”
Choi Mujin smiled slightly and then pinched and twisted Haseo’s nose.
“Ow!”
It hurt so much that tears almost came to his eyes. As he touched his nose to make sure it was still attached, Choi Mujin got up from the bed.
“I’m going out first.”
Haseo, still clutching his nose, followed him. When he saw the urn placed on the living room table, he unconsciously held his breath.
‘It’s okay.’
Even though his grandmother had passed away, Haseo’s world hadn’t ended. He maintained his composure as he approached the urn. After stroking its smooth surface, he greeted it in a soft voice.
“Did you sleep well?”
There was no reply, but Haseo smiled at the urn.
“Grandmother, should I make a place for you?”
“What? A place?”
“Yes, I can make one in any room you want.”
“It’s fine. I’ll take care of it myself.”
Haseo declined Choi Mujin’s offer. Choi Mujin didn’t insist further. Haseo took the urn from the table and moved it to his room for now. After that, he had a light breakfast with Choi Mujin and brought up something he had been holding inside.
“I want to visit home.”
“Which home?”
“The house where I used to live.”
He had wanted to maintain it somehow, but at some point, he couldn’t pay the rent anymore. So now someone else might be living there. Still, he wanted to visit, hoping that maybe the original landlord had kept his remaining belongings.
He had brought all the important things when moving to Choi Mujin’s house, but he still wanted to go back.
“Then let’s go.”
“Together?”
“How else would you go?”
There might be other ways, but seeing Choi Mujin pick up the car keys, there seemed to be no point in arguing. Haseo followed him to the entrance with his usual composed face.
The neighborhood he revisited after a long time felt more dilapidated than he remembered. Climbing the steep, high slope, he saw rusty iron gates and weeds sprouting between broken cement. At the very top, there was a small, old house without even a gate. Haseo hesitated for a moment before knocking on the closed door.
Knock, knock.
There was no sound from inside.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
