Chapter 106
Tae-joo, his cheeks flushed from drinking, clung to Si-yul with a grin.
“Hyung, why are you drinking alone after coming all this way? Ah, your glass is empty. Let me pour you some.”
“No, it’s okay. I’ve had a lot already.”
“Come on, just one more. Just one.”
Though Si-yul wanted to avoid it, Tae-joo pulled him close as if to protect him among familiar people and picked up the bottle. No matter how much he twisted his body, Tae-joo’s hand gripping his shoulder wouldn’t loosen, his strength seemingly increased by alcohol. His arm was starting to ache from the pressure.
“Please…”
Si-yul tried to speak with a forced smile, not wanting to ruin the mood. But before he could finish, the door burst open with a bang. Si-yul’s eyes widened at the familiar scent that wafted in.
Am I dreaming? Hyun-se strode in. He looked only at Si-yul, then fixed his gaze on Tae-joo, who was trying to stand up beside him.
Instinctively, Si-yul covered his nose with his hand. Though he knew it wasn’t a scent he could perceive through smell. In an instant, Hyun-se approached and grabbed the back of Tae-joo’s head, slamming it down onto the table.
Tae-joo’s face contorted in pain as it was pressed down. One more hit and his birthday might become his memorial day. Enduring the pungent scent that was almost like the smell of blood, Si-yul jumped up and grabbed Hyun-se’s wrist.
He barely managed to stop Hyun-se and leave the place. The conversation they had in the alley was meaningless. They repeated the same finished story to the point of tedium. It was like scratching a wound that hadn’t healed yet, causing new pain and drawing blood.
He didn’t mention meeting Hyun-se’s family. In truth, he wanted to bring it up several times. His throat choked with the desire to direct blame at Hyun-se.
But Si-yul ultimately swallowed the humiliation he had endured. He only said they should never see each other again, words he didn’t mean. He fought back tears by widening his eyes. He couldn’t show Hyun-se any more of this pathetic side.
“I’ve sorted everything out now. I don’t… like you anymore. Not at all.”
He shouldn’t have come here after all. Regretting his decision over and over, Si-yul left Hyun-se standing there and exited the alley. He wanted to look back as much as he had on the day he left after putting shoes on Hyun-se. But he didn’t. Clenching his fists so tightly his nails dug into his palms, he moved as far away as he could from Hyun-se, who stood there motionless.
The tears he had been holding back finally burst out after he had gotten some distance from the alley. They fell incessantly, not giving his sleeve cuffs a chance to dry even as he wiped them away. Eventually, it became too tiring to even raise his hand, so he just let the tears flow freely.
He couldn’t take the bus. He didn’t want to receive curious or pitying looks from strangers. Instead, he sobbed for a long time at an empty bus stop, only stopping after the still-cold night wind had repeatedly slapped his cheeks.
His phone was turned off. The phone Hyun-se had given him could easily last two days without charging, but the old model he had now went into rest mode after just half a day. He roughly shoved the useless device into his pocket and continued walking.
Alternating between subway and bus, he arrived at the inn’s alley. Si-yul staggered and leaned against the wall. He didn’t want to go in right away. After roughly rubbing his face where tear tracks had dried, he slid down to sit next to the rusty iron door.
“What an idiot.”
Cursing himself, he rummaged through his pockets. As he was about to put a cigarette in his mouth, a drop of water fell on his forehead, making him look up. Raindrops were starting to fall one by one. The scent of damp earth mixed with dust gradually crept in on the breeze.
With no other choice, he put the cigarette back and went into the inn. Usually, there would be loud snoring, but tonight it was eerily quiet, as if everyone was still out.
Si-yul entered his room and lay flat on the floor without turning on the lights. As he looked up at the ceiling, his dry eyes became moist. He had never been one to cry easily, but since turning his back on Hyun-se, the days he cried had become too numerous to count on his fingers.
He cried at the slightest thing. His cheeks would be wet even when he woke up, and while taking breaks at work, a single tear would roll down his face.
This isn’t right. He had decided not to cry anymore, but Si-yul comforted himself that it was okay since no one could see him.
Hyun-se was cruel.
If he had said it was the last time with his own mouth, he should have driven the other person away coldly so they wouldn’t have any lingering attachments. Instead, he threw bits of attention like feeding a hungry dog.
Getting furiously angry at Tae-joo, telling him to move into the house he had prepared. His shamelessness in claiming Si-yul was still his in front of others was water and salt, daily bread that Si-yul, thirsty for affection and thirsty for Hyun-se, had to eat to survive.
I should stop, I should sort this out, he scolded and angered himself, tried to blame it all on the other person, but the feelings remaining inside him hadn’t been chipped away even a grain of sand. They remained as big as a mountain. Trying to remove even a teaspoon’s worth felt as painful as cutting off a chunk of flesh.
Si-yul squeezed his eyes shut. But even in the darkness behind his eyelids, that person was engraved. The food he ate, the clothes he wore, the way he walked, even his sleeping habits had been trained by Hyun-se. There wasn’t a place inside or out that didn’t bear his traces.
The memories weren’t etched in places. They were in his body and soul.
“…”
The teardrops grew larger. Si-yul lowered his head. Dark stains spread across the old, pilled pillow.
Still, Si-yul was grateful to Hyun-se. For allowing him to write one brilliant page in his wretched life.
The rain grew heavier, beating against the thin roof of the inn with a loud hiss. Si-yul’s eyelids twitched at the incessant sound of rain hammering on the metal sheets. His eyes, slowly revealed, were still hazy with sleep.
He didn’t know when he had dozed off. He lifted his head heavily from the pillow and looked out the window. Raindrops were drawing chaotic lines on the glass.
A glance at his phone showed it was just past 2 AM.
At this time, without fail, Hyun-se would come to mind. Like a tamed fox. He should forget now, but Si-yul had not even a shred of confidence that it would be possible. He covered his eyes with his forearm, struggling to erase even the afterimage.
That’s when he heard the sound of someone knocking heavily on the door. Si-yul, who had been staring at the floor, flinched at the sudden noise. Thinking it might be a drunk person who had come to the wrong place, he stayed quiet.
The knocking sound came again. It was with a fist, but not forceful enough to break the door. As he remained silent, a low voice squeezed through the door crack, saying, “It’s me.”
Si-yul jumped up. Hyun-se had come. Could it be his imagination? Or was he still wandering in a dream? Only after slapping his tear-stained cheek with his palm did he realize it wasn’t a dream.
As he hesitated, wondering what to do and if he should pretend not to be there, Hyun-se knocked on the door again from outside. He seemed like he would keep knocking until Si-yul opened it. Worried about waking everyone up, Si-yul finally grasped the doorknob after some hesitation.
Hyun-se stood there. Instead of coming into the room, he remained in place like a statue. Having been caught in the rain, clear water dripped from his hair, chin, and sleeves.
The first time Hyun-se had come looking for him, he had also stayed outside the gate, not coming in. Hyun-se standing in the narrow alley lined with shabby houses looked terribly out of place.
“Why…”
His voice choked. He looked up, moistening his dry throat with saliva. The gaze looking down at him was dark. The faint light from the streetlamp beyond the wall cast shadows on Hyun-se’s eyelids and cheeks.
“I…”
Si-yul stared blankly at Hyun-se. The other stopped mid-sentence and rubbed his face with his wet hand. As if something was stuck in his throat that he wanted to spit out, he also grasped his thick neck. He repeated “I” once more, uncharacteristically.
Si-yul took a step back. He whipped himself mentally, saying he shouldn’t give in. That he should coldly reject him, whether he was wet or not, whether he had something to say or not. Perhaps thinking Si-yul was trying to avoid him, Hyun-se hurriedly grabbed the door to keep it open.
“I should have told you I fell for you at first sight, not that stupid thing about sleeping together…!”
And then he poured it out like rapid-fire. Si-yul, who had been turning away, paused. He looked up at Hyun-se with his mouth open. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It was something he had never heard in all the time he had spent with Hyun-se.
“I couldn’t say I liked you. Or that I loved you. I should have said those words first. I, me, you.”
Had Hyun-se ever stumbled over his words before? Had he ever hesitated? Even as he roughly wiped his lower face, he didn’t take his eyes off Si-yul.
“I realized too late that I loved you.”
