94
Yeon Ji-ho regained consciousness when night had already fallen. Realizing he had collapsed near the front door, Ji-ho staggered to his feet.
The sensor light at the entrance flickered on, finally allowing him to see. Looking down at the floor, he saw the dried vomit he had left earlier. Ji-ho sighed softly and turned on the living room lights first.
“Haa…”
His vision kept momentarily blacking out. Even after standing up, Ji-ho rubbed his forehead, only moving once his sight fully returned.
First, he cleaned the floor thoroughly with a wet cloth and a dry one. Then, feeling the house smelled stuffy, he headed towards the window to open it…
Ji-ho hesitated with his hand on the window lock. What if he left it open and Hadad came in?
This concern ultimately prevented him from even opening the window. Changing his mind, Ji-ho drew the double curtains instead, making it impossible to see inside from the outside.
“Ah, right. The medicine…”
Checking the clock on the living room wall, Ji-ho realized how late it was. Earlier that day, the doctor had prescribed him pheromone stabilizers, morning sickness medication, and headache pills, advising him not to forget to take them if he couldn’t smell alpha pheromones.
It was just today that he had received the doctor’s advice, so he needed to take the medicine…
Except for breakfast at Seon-rok’s house, his stomach had been empty all day. Even that had been thrown up after meeting Hadad, so there couldn’t be anything left in his stomach. Ji-ho realized he needed to eat.
“I should eat.”
Forcing himself to mutter this made him somewhat inclined to eat. Ji-ho pushed away the worries and concerns that kept invading his mind and barely managed to think about today’s menu.
“Something simple, easy… What do I have?”
Opening the refrigerator, he found no edible ingredients, probably because he had been away from home for so long. After contemplating in front of the fridge, Ji-ho finally turned away with a sigh.
There was no way any place would deliver to this rural area at this hour. Eventually, Ji-ho stood in front of the lower cabinet where he kept various convenience foods. Crouching down, he reached in and searched the corners, finding a 3-minute retort curry.
After putting the curry container in the microwave, Ji-ho sat blankly at the dining table, staring ahead. How long had he been sitting there with a blank mind, not even thinking to get utensils?
Ding…
The microwave’s end signal brought Ji-ho back to his senses. He got up, opened the microwave, grabbed a spoon, and started eating mechanically. A half-opened instant rice package sat beside him.
But why did it taste so bad?
Since becoming alone, cooking had always suited Ji-ho’s personality and was fun, so he was always enthusiastic about it. But sometimes there were days when cooking felt bothersome. On those days, he would just heat up convenience foods hidden deep in the cupboard.
Today, however, that convenience food tasted particularly bad. Suddenly, Ji-ho thought that if he had brought this convenience food in the caravan, everyone would have eaten it well. But it was too late for that now.
“Ugh.”
After about five spoonfuls, what he had forced down started to come back up. Covering his mouth, Ji-ho stood up and went to the sink to spit out saliva and stomach acid. Only after rinsing his mouth with tap water until the curry smell was gone did the dry heaving stop.
“I’m going to die like this…”
He muttered without realizing. His stomach was empty, but when he tried to fill it hastily, his body rejected it. The thought that he needed to eat something to take his medicine kept circling in his mind.
After repeatedly rubbing his face, Ji-ho finally decided to cook a proper meal. He headed back to the refrigerator. This time, however, his hand reached for the freezer, not the fridge.
From the nearly empty freezer (most things had been packed into the caravan), he took out some frozen dumplings.
He opened the new bag of frozen dumplings, put them in a microwave-safe container, and heated them for about 3 minutes. While the dumplings were cooking, Ji-ho prepared a small pot, an egg, sesame oil, and dried seaweed flakes.
Ding.
Ji-ho took out the cooked dumplings and started cutting them mercilessly with scissors. He poured the dumplings, cut so finely that the skin and filling were indistinguishable, into the pot with water and brought it to a boil.
Then he dropped the half-eaten instant rice into the pot with a splash. Stirring gently and seasoning with salt and soy sauce, Ji-ho waited quietly.
“…It’s been a while since I’ve had this.”
The so-called frozen dumpling porridge.
The first time Ji-ho ate this porridge, he hadn’t made it himself. His father, who wasn’t particularly talented in cooking, had hurriedly made this when Ji-ho fell ill while his mother was away.
What did he say when he first tasted this porridge? That it was like dog food? Young Ji-ho had pouted and fussed about not wanting to eat it, even while sick.
He had barely managed one spoonful at his father’s earnest gaze.
After stirring in a beaten egg and finishing with sesame oil and dried seaweed flakes, a savory aroma rose from the porridge. Ji-ho transferred the porridge to a wide bowl and brought it to the table.
“Thank you for the meal.”
Ji-ho muttered briefly at the humble table where no one else was present. Although he had managed to make the food, it didn’t suddenly make him want to eat. But there were times when you had to eat even if you didn’t want to.
When Ji-ho didn’t want to eat the dog food-like porridge, his father would often say this to persuade him:
‘Ji-ho, our picky eater. You never want to eat, do you?’
‘Yeah… I don’t want to eat…’
‘Then let’s think of it this way. Today, we’re practicing eating.’
‘Practice?’
Gently stroking Ji-ho’s head as he mumbled, his father brought a small child-sized spoon to his mouth once more.
“…It’s practice for eating well and growing strong in the future.”
Ji-ho gently stroked his belly with his empty hand. Surprisingly, his churning stomach calmed for a moment. Ji-ho picked up the spoon and began to eat the porridge little by little, very slowly.
The meal stretched on slowly and for a long time. Afraid that eating too quickly might bring back his morning sickness, Ji-ho had to chew each mouthful ten or twenty times before swallowing. Even so, he ended up leaving about half of it.
But it was something that he had managed to eat this much. Relieved, Ji-ho got up and took out the prescription medicine packet. A few pills rolled onto his white palm.
He put the pills in his mouth as if cramming them in and swallowed water for a long time before finally managing to get the medicine down his throat. He wasn’t usually bad at taking pills, but it seemed the morning sickness was affecting even this.
“I ate it all…”
Why was it so exhausting just to eat a meal and take medicine? Too tired to walk to a comfortable spot, Ji-ho slumped back into the dining chair and stared blankly ahead again.
As he did so, his thoughts once again drifted to Set. How was Set doing? He was probably worried about him. It would be good if he wasn’t skipping meals.
Although Ji-ho himself was struggling to swallow food due to morning sickness, he hoped Set wasn’t doing the same. Before meeting Ji-ho, Set had only eaten enough not to starve to death, so it was natural to be worried.
Just then, something caught his eye. It was Ji-ho’s tablet on the living room sofa.
It was something he used to carry around every day until he met Set. Of course, it was because “The Star of Hadad” was so interesting. But since meeting him, he hadn’t had the time or reason to use it, so he had just left it aside…
Wait a minute, The Star of Hadad?
As one thought led to another, Ji-ho’s eyes gradually widened. He abruptly stood up and strode towards the sofa.
Then he turned on the tablet screen and tapped on the familiar platform app. ‘My Library’. The button was still there. Ji-ho, with a sense of disbelief, slowly scrolled down the screen. Having purchased so many novels, the scroll was long, and Ji-ho’s index finger slid urgently.
And then he found it.
“The Star of Hadad ishkur”
The author of that damned novel.
