Geun-yeong hadn’t been answering his calls for days. After meeting him in the Samjeong Station underground to return incorrectly deposited money and treating him to cheese steak and spaghetti, he suddenly said he was taking a leave of absence.
Well, fine, overseas training. That’s good. It’s a very standard path for a medical student from an elite doctor family, so he couldn’t tell him not to go, nor could he insist that he stay and study with him for another year before graduating. Who was he to make him postpone a good opportunity for his sake? It would be a lie to say he wasn’t disappointed, but he understood.
But still. That didn’t mean he had to ignore his calls and texts. He probably hadn’t left for overseas yet. Above all, Professor Ji Seokhun was said to be on a two-week medical leave.
So Woo Donghwa came to Green Village. To check if that guy Geun-yeong was doing well, and if possible, to inquire about Professor Ji Seokhun’s health, and while at it, to make his presence known once more—all these things together.
But upon arrival, he saw over 20 similarly shaped buildings from the entrance of the villa, rising up the slope to the foot of the mountain. He had no idea which building and unit Geun-yeong lived in. It would have been nice if Geun-yeong was playing outside his house, but that was highly unlikely.
Woo Donghwa berated himself for acting without a plan. Thinking of trying to call again, he took out his phone and lowered his head, which had been stretched up while looking around.
“Hello?”
“Yes?”
But at that moment, he had to raise his head again because of the greeting he heard. Looking toward the source of the sound, Woo Donghwa’s head, which had frozen with his phone in both hands, went up. It went up more. It went up even more. It stopped at a point where the back of his neck hurt from being bent so far and the sun in the middle of the sky made his eyes squint. Then he saw the face of a man who seemed somewhat intimidating as he stood with his back to the sun, casting a shadow. No, even without the shadow, his appearance was frightening. Above all, though he was clearly a stranger, he looked familiar.
Why did he look familiar?
Woo Donghwa wondered why he knew this man’s face for some reason. He looked familiar but he couldn’t figure out who he was. Was he a supporting actor in noir films about gangsters, and that’s why he looked familiar? If he was an actor, with leading man looks, why was he stuck in supporting roles to the point that he didn’t even know his name? That was also curious. Is it because he looks a bit scary that he couldn’t make it big? Or is he just a terrible actor?
“Are you here to see Geun-yeong?”
“Yes?”
Woo Donghwa’s mind became complicated again. How did this handsome, scary-looking specialized gangster actor know Geun-yeong? Do people living in this neighborhood all know each other somehow? If so, does Geun-yeong also know the actress with national treasure-level beauty? Had he been hiding it? If that were the case, it would be quite sneaky, wouldn’t it? Geun-yeong?
“Hey, snap out of it.”
The man who grabbed the shoulder of the guy staring up at his face in a daze and shook it once, then put his arm over the shoulder of the now blinking guy. He wrapped his arm deeply around him, burying his neck between his armpits, and started walking.
“Come to your senses, and let’s have a chat with hyung.”
Woo Donghwa’s mind was busy wondering what on earth this gangster role specialist supporting actor who knew Geun-yeong wanted to talk about with him. Meanwhile, he strongly felt that he shouldn’t follow, but he couldn’t control his feet that moved along with the arm firmly wrapped around his shoulder and neck. He couldn’t stop. He felt like he would get in trouble if he stopped.
Enough time passed for the sun at its zenith to move about a hand span. Woo Donghwa, who had lost a screw and had that empty space filled with a lump of suspicion, making his expressions and movements stiff, returned to Green Village.
This time, it wasn’t just somewhere in Green Village but exactly in front of Unit 7, Building A. He now knew where Geun-yeong lived, which he hadn’t known until a moment ago. That man from earlier, who went from being a gangster specialist actor to a real gangster he had seen during his surgical ward rotation, and who ultimately turned out to be a detective, had told him. Geun-yeong’s house was Unit 7, Building A. And he asked for one favor.
Donghwa, who couldn’t bring himself to ask why a detective had dragons all over his body, returned to Geun-yeong’s house as the man requested, and after a moment’s hesitation, pressed the doorbell.
[Who is it?]
It was a woman. Or it seemed to be a woman. It was a voice so low that he wondered if it might be a man, with no variation in pitch. If he were to play what he just heard on the piano, it would be something like “fa-fa-fa-fa.” Could it be his mother? Did Yeom Eunyeong sound like that? Or was it a housekeeping ajumma?
“Um, I’m Woo Dong-hwa, Geun-yeong’s friend.”
[Yes. Please wait a moment.]
It was “fa, fa-fa-fa, fa-fa-fa-fa-fa.” The ajumma who left a melancholy minor key melody in the ears of Woo Donghwa, who had learned piano up to Czerny No. 30 as the only son of a more than well-off family, didn’t return for a while after that. The door, which he thought would open immediately, didn’t open right away, and thanks to the extra time, the detective’s words—who he had thought was a gangster specialist actor—began to float through the gaps in his mind.
‘Did you know Geun-yeong had run away from home?’
He didn’t know. His eyes widened in surprise at this completely unknown story, and the detective answered straightforwardly without beating around the bush.
‘Your number was the last in his call records, and it was you who withdrew money from the ATM in front of Exit 7 of Samjeong Station and handed it to him. But Geun-yeong didn’t tell you? That he was leaving home?’
He had said he was taking a leave of absence, but not that he was leaving home. While he couldn’t give a yes or no answer, the detective snorted and said:
‘You’re not that close with Geun-yeong, huh?’
‘We-we are close! Very!’
He had shouted, feeling unnecessarily hurt. How dare.
After shouting, surprised by his own voice, he clamped his mouth shut and watched the detective’s reaction, but the detective didn’t seem particularly upset.
‘So he couldn’t even tell his close friend. Geez. Then how must he have felt inside?’
Whether it was a soliloquy or if he expected an answer, he wasn’t sure, but he cautiously nodded in agreement. His father was a professor, his mother a pianist, and he himself a genius. He thought Geun-yeong had no problems other than diabetes. But to decide to take a leave of absence and then run away from home—he wondered what on earth had happened to that guy. And he felt sorry for him, who must have endured alone without showing his struggles, which were severe enough to make him decide to run away a year before graduation.
As he was pondering what could have troubled Geun-yeong so much, and why he couldn’t express his difficulties that had driven him to run away, the voices of himself and another guy louder than him began to ring loudly in his mind:
‘Professor! I’m Woo Donghwa! I’ll take good care of Geun-yeong until the end!’
‘Professor! I’m the class representative Park Sanghun! I will take full responsibility and take good care of Geun-yeong!’
And then he realized why Geun-yeong couldn’t tell him or other classmates. He probably thought his problem would harm the reputation of his adoptive parents. So he endured and suppressed it alone.
He thought he really liked Geun-yeong, but now he wondered if what he liked was just the guy’s shell. Had that been noticeable? Is that why the guy couldn’t tell him? He felt terribly sorry.
While he was thinking this, the detective, who had been standing with his arms crossed seeming to be deeply contemplating something, took out a phone from his chest and said as he held it out:
‘Actually, there’s a bigger problem than him running away from home. I can’t tell you now, but you’ll find out soon. What’s your name? What? Woo-dong? Hwa? Funny name. Alright, Udong, you need to help Geun-yeong.’
The man, who still looked intimidating even after knowing he was a detective, sincerely asked. He asked him to help Geun-yeong.
He felt somewhat tense. And he was curious about what the bigger problem than running away from home was, which he said he couldn’t tell him now.
[Come in.]
Donghwa, whose reverie had been long while waiting for quite some time, was startled by the sudden “fa-fa-fa-fa-fa” sound and stood at attention. He heard the mechanical sound of the door unlocking. Taking a deep breath, he placed his hand on the doorknob and pushed, wondering if it was really Geun-yeong who had conflicted so long about letting him in, or Professor Ji Seokhun, who was said to be at home on a two-week sick leave.
He opened the front door and walked down the hallway. There was an elevator in a three-story building. The elevator door opened as soon as he pressed the button. He didn’t need to worry about which floor to press. There was only one button. The fact that there was only one button meant that only one household used this elevator, which meant that all three floors visible from the outside were Geun-yeong’s house. Donghwa, who had been secretly envious, was dumbfounded. Dumbfounded, he looked around the luxurious elevator interior. Looking around, he severely chastised himself.
This is why Geun-yeong couldn’t tell me what was on his mind!
Woo Donghwa hardened his face reflected in the spotlessly clean mirror. As he tried to firmly close his mouth that kept opening, he was startled by the door opening on the opposite side from where he had entered and had to turn around.
When the elevator stopped and opened, the person waiting at the open front door wasn’t someone Donghwa knew. It was a somewhat robot-like ajumma with a sturdy presence. The ajumma, whose appearance matched perfectly with a “pa” sound, didn’t bother with pleasantries like “welcome” or “come in,” but simply said, “Follow me,” also with a “pa” sound.
Following the ajumma across the living room and up the stairs, Donghwa glanced at several closed doors. Pianist Yeom Eunyeong and Professor Ji Seokhun must be somewhere around here. But no one was visible, and no sound could be heard.
His friend’s son had come, yet no one came out to greet him. No, even before that, they hadn’t easily permitted a friend to visit. This was definitely different from his own parents.
Just by sensing the atmosphere of the house, Woo Donghwa thought he could roughly understand why Ji Geun-yeong had run away. And his heart grew heavy. He wanted to see Geun-yeong quickly. He wondered how he was doing. He opened and closed his sweaty fist, then put strength into his stiff, nervous legs.
After climbing the stairs, the second-floor living room felt like a rest area in an art museum. There was a modern table and sofa, with abstract paintings of simple geometric shapes hanging on the walls. It was called a rest area, but it felt somehow burdensome to sit down and relax comfortably.
Donghwa no longer envied the guy who had been living with this kind of living room all to himself. He was curious and sad about the circumstances that made the kid decide to run away despite this affluent background.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
