#31. Temperature of the Heart (1)
It was truly freedom after such a long time.
It was a precious blank space in daily life that had been packed tight without room to breathe. Even just sitting still and feeling the wind without doing anything felt endlessly wonderful.
Na Jihan, who hates being bored, somehow managed to match my pace. He brought me to a cafe by the ocean that was open and refreshing, where crowds didn’t gather much.
He sat across from me, drinking coffee and spending time in his own way. There was no interference or complaints until I finished reading an entire poetry book at a leisurely pace, closed it, and looked up.
When I smiled slightly at his gaze that met mine as if he had been waiting, Na Jihan also asked me with a face full of laughter.
“Why do you read it?”
He wasn’t criticizing or being sarcastic—he was genuinely curious. After thinking for a moment, I answered.
“Because I’m curious about other people’s hearts.”
I read poetry because I liked the sincerity of others, pressed firmly onto paper that was only a few pages long, written with carefully chosen words. When someone’s heart written down like that felt exactly like my own heart, I was happy because I didn’t feel like I was isolated from the world.
“This is why heredity is scary.”
Na Jihan laughed and poked the tip of my nose.
“Your aunt was a literature girl when she was young.”
“That’s right.”
So there was such a story.
Na Jihan’s mother and my mother were colleagues at the postpartum care center. They had known each other since they were looking into care centers after receiving their due dates, and Na Jihan’s mother had been concerned about my mother from then on.
‘She went around alone without a guardian, so I was worried about her. Her businessman husband was busy—our family was similar, so I understood that… but she just looked a bit lonely.’
From being bothered by that, they developed into close friends while staying at the care center. To be more precise, it was closer to Na Jihan’s mother taking care of my mother.
Na Jihan’s mother, who wanted to comfort my mother who had been depressed for a while after giving birth to me, once secretly asked Na Jihan’s father to bring a poetry book. She thought my mother, who had loved books when she was young, would be happy to read it.
The poetry book received as a gift then became my mother’s lifelong treasure. She read and reread the poems until the corners wore down, and sometimes read those poems to me as lullabies instead of singing.
I too grew up freely loving that poet, his poetry book, the countless gentle poems that exist in the world, and Na Jihan’s mother and Na Jihan.
“Maybe I should read it later too.”
“You’re not even interested in poetry.”
“That’s true, but…”
He shrugged as he answered.
“You were reading it so earnestly. If I read it too, I’d be able to understand what part of that poetry moved you so much.”
“……”
“I don’t know about other people, but I’m curious about your heart.”
At those words, I couldn’t help but burst into laughter.
‘Well, a few days after buying that poetry book, Hayeong… Jihan’s mom asked if she could read that book too. Someone who had nothing to do with books, let alone poetry.’
‘Why would you read a book when you don’t like books?’
‘She was curious. About why mom liked that book so much.’
“Right. This is why heredity is scary.”
Just as Na Jihan’s mother had been to my mother, Na Jihan and I would become unique existences in each other’s lives.
Your very existence seems to be one of the few inheritances my mother left behind. That’s why sometimes I felt like I could cry from joy just looking at you.
“If you’re done reading, let’s go out and walk around now.”
“Should we? Hyeonjun hyung just finished washing the van too.”
As I looked around, I gestured toward the menu.
“Should we buy a coffee to go?”
“Hmm…”
Na Jihan, who had been thinking for a moment, tapped his phone to exchange messages, then asked me.
“Seowoo. Want to eat ice cream?”
* * *
“It’s too sweet…”
I bought it out of curiosity because they said it was ice cream topped with handmade Hallabong jam, a Jeju specialty, but it was too sweet for my taste.
‘It is delicious though.’
I was gently scraping the jam off the surface of the ice cream with my spoon, feeling disappointed, when Na Jihan, who was standing next to me fiddling with his warm coffee, asked.
“Why aren’t you eating?”
“I am eating.”
“If you scrape the Hallabong jam off Hallabong ice cream, isn’t it just regular ice cream?”
“That’s true…”
“Is the jam not good?”
That wasn’t it. It was objectively a popular store too. According to Na Hyeonjun, it was a place that celebrities he knew would stop by whenever they came to Jeju Island.
When I shook my head, he said “just one bite” and leaned down. I busily moved my spoon to feed him a bite of ice cream.
“How is it?”
“It’s fine. But it’s sweet for your taste.”
“Yeah.”
“Eat it in moderation and tell me if you get cold. There’s a blanket in the van.”
Even though it was a bit chilly because of the strong wind, it was bearable. Thinking that I wouldn’t be able to feel this ocean breeze for a while once we returned to Seoul made it even more so.
While I scraped at my ice cream again and looked at the wide horizon, Na Jihan moved restlessly without rest for a moment, tidying my hair and the hem of my clothes.
“Aren’t you looking at the ocean?”
“I looked at it plenty earlier.”
“When earlier?”
“When you had your nose buried in that poetry book.”
“It wasn’t that much…”
I was about to say more when Na Jihan’s expression suddenly changed. His softly relaxed expression strangely hardened, and he pulled my shoulder to hide me behind him.
With a bewildered expression, I was led by his touch to look at his broad back when a small voice came from across the way.
“Hello. Um, excuse me…”
“What can I help you with?”
“That… aren’t you Na Jihan-ssi from the Arcus Project?”
It seemed a fan had recognized us. I peeked my head out from behind Na Jihan’s arm.
‘He’s not usually the type to be so wary of people.’
It seemed like he was worried I might get harmed because of the recent incident when a sasaeng fan had come all the way to his family home.
The woman, who looked a bit older than us, showed a smile full of certainty when she saw my face.
“That’s right! Hello, Seowoo. I’m a Moment, but I’m a fan of all the Midnight kids.”
“Hello, noona.”
Moment was the name of Days’ fan club. Thanks to their popularity and seniority, the scale was large, so I often heard that those people also liked other singers from the same agency.
Actually, more than half of Arcus’s early fans were Moments. They were people we should be grateful to.
“Since we met suddenly, photos would be a bit…”
Na Jihan cut off with a strict tone.
“That would be difficult. I’m sorry.”
“Is an autograph okay?”
At that question, he looked back at me. It was a look asking for permission.
She wasn’t a bad person. She was even waiting several steps away in case we might be uncomfortable.
Once we debut, this kind of thing will happen more often, and it wouldn’t be good to worry like this every time.
“It’s okay. I can do it.”
I answered spiritedly.
“Where should I sign it for you?”
When I stepped forward actively, Na Jihan’s wariness also noticeably softened. He was the first to receive the pen and diary, asked for her name, and left a large signature in an empty space.
Na Jihan’s signature was very elegant and wonderful, just like him. It was amazing how he could draw such a complex-looking shape in one stroke.
The problem was me.
“Uh, excuse me…”
It was good that I had stepped forward to do it, but I didn’t have a signature. I simply hadn’t prepared one properly. The agency had said they would send over a few drafts around debut time, but it would be more accurate to say that hadn’t happened yet.
If I had known this would happen, I should have gotten it in advance and practiced a bit. After being troubled for a moment, I scratched my cheek and asked quietly.
“I don’t have a signature yet, would it be okay if I wrote you a letter instead?”
After getting an okay, I held the diary with one hand and began writing earnestly with the other.
What more should I say after an ordinary greeting? Without time to think, my hand moved naturally.
“Even though I haven’t debuted yet, it was amazing and delightful that there was someone who recognized me.”
At first, I had lightly thought that writing about a line or two would be enough, but it gradually became more serious.
“Though our first meeting like this was coincidental, I hope our second meeting will be inevitable. If I really work hard and do well, so that next time it won’t be just a chance meeting…”
I pressed my determination and hopes firmly as I promised.
“I’ll work hard every moment to become someone worth coming to see. So let’s definitely meet again.”
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
