M 89

Ki Tae-jeong stared blankly at the shopping bag on the table, then turned away as if without any lingering attachment, just as Lee Sehwa had done earlier.

“Call Lieutenant Na to the officers’ quarters. Do we have any blood drawing equipment? I’d like to use it right away.”

“There is some in the car…”

“Bring that. No, we’ll do it on the way.”

“Excuse me, Brigadier General… may I ask what happened?” Lieutenant Park asked cautiously.

He understood that Sehwa Lee had left this place in an unusual manner… but it was hard to believe that Ki Tae-jeong had simply allowed him to leave. Even if he was planning to bring him back, given the superior’s personality, he would have likely detained Sehwa first, even if Sehwa had begged and cried to be let go….

“Sehwa drugged me.”

“…Pardon?”

“Hesta, Alion, Tyran. All three mixed, about 30mL.”

As Ki Tae-jeong listed the drug names, the faces of the two subordinates were filled with shock. To mix three drugs that were lethal even when taken alone. And 30mL… It was an amount that would have killed an ordinary person several times over.

“B-but… he might have actually used different drugs than what he said.”

Lieutenant Park remained silent with a hardened expression, while Sergeant Major Choi stuttered, desperately trying to defend Sehwa.

“If he hadn’t used those drugs in that dose, I wouldn’t have passed out.”

“But… he couldn’t have had such intentions. Sehwa knows you’re different from ordinary people, Brigadier General. He must have been certain it wouldn’t be fatal…”

“That was exactly his intention.”

Ki Tae-jeong carelessly stuffed the piece of paper he had been holding since he woke up into his pocket.

“He chose these potent drugs knowing full well I might die. Only these lethal ones.”

“…Brigadier General.”

“Lieutenant Park.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Proceed with the pregnant person’s guardian registration process. We could do it without Sehwa’s consent anyway, right?”

“That’s true, but…”

The deadline had long passed. Still, he hadn’t rushed and had waited. Knowing how Sehwa would shrink at the mere mention of this topic, he hadn’t said a word until now.

After the guardian registration deadline passes, a daily fine is imposed. While the amount was insignificant to Ki Tae-jeong, it was a sum that would make Sehwa faint. Hoping Sehwa would hurry to register when he found out about this,Ki  Tae-jeong had been quietly taking care of it without showing any sign.

He wanted to hear Sehwa ask him to become the guardian. He wanted to see Sehwa write his name on the form with his own hand and turn to smile at him. But if it was going to be like this…

“…I should have had a ring made instead of shoes.”

Ki Tae-jeong narrowed his eyes slightly and curved one hand to form a semicircle. Was Sehwa’s ankle about this size? Then he formed a small cylinder with both hands and twisted it this way and that. His neck circumference was about this much… And how big was his cock again?

As Ki Tae-jeong’s hands traced and kneaded these ghostly remnants, they gradually tensed with force. He was already thinking of creating the most luxurious ornaments in the world for Sehwa, who would soon be in his grasp. He would embed expensive jewels generously to suit that pretty face, drape them all over his body, and not let him take a single step outside the bedroom.

“If I had marked him as mine, he wouldn’t have had the chance to think such ridiculous thoughts.”

Sehwa had said he didn’t know how his attitude had changed from the beginning, or what feelings he held now. Well then, this was the opportunity to make him realize. Put shackles on both ankles and neck, tighten even the base of his cock so he can’t go to the bathroom alone, don’t even give him a gown – then he’ll understand.

“Brigadier General, please calm down a little…”

“I am perfectly calm.”

Rather, it was problematic before when he had been floating around all day as if high on drugs. Now, his mind and vision were as clear as if he had been doused with ice water.

In the end, Sehwa would stay by his side of his own volition.

He was confident he could thoroughly figure out how Sehwa had escaped the House, where he was staying now, who he had contacted, and what he had been eating… all within a day.

It would be the greatest misfortune for Sehwa, but Tae-jeong was a man well-versed in the blood-curdling pursuit of a fugitive. Moreover, Sehwa was merely a civilian. Even if he were a cunning drug dealer born and raised in a den of criminals, he couldn’t beat a soldier. So…

“…Ah.”

Ki Tae-jeong, who had been walking without hesitation, suddenly squeezed his eyes shut as a wave of nausea hit him.

More than Sehwa Lee calling him a monster, or saying he didn’t care whether Tae-jeong lived or died…

Sehwa’s tearful plea not to do this to anyone else he might like in the future, his self-deprecating assumption that Ki Tae-jeong would soon forget everything and live well anyway, that final verdict implying he no longer had feelings for Ki Tae-jeong to the point of mentioning a future with someone else…

These kept cutting into Ki Tae-jeong’s heart like sharp needles and blades.

***

Sehwa filled a pot with water, wearing a gloomy expression. The old stove made sputtering sounds before finally igniting.

He had failed to find work again today.

No one would trust and hire him. Even when he desperately pleaded that there was nothing he hadn’t done before, everyone pushed him out the door, saying his voice through the gas mask sounded too young. The scolding that a child shouldn’t be coming to such places was an added bonus.

When he started by saying he came to repay a debt and would die if he couldn’t earn money, they showed some interest at first, but upon seeing his pale, thin hands, they clicked their tongues, wondering what use they could be.

“I really can do it well…”

He knows exactly where the drug dens are in 2-Hwan. He knows all too well how easily he could make money by gently coaxing those guys. All he needs to do is help them combine and administer their drugs a few times. Then they’d come begging with money, pleading for more. Compared to dealing with customers at the House, it would be nothing.

But… he didn’t want to make a living that way. There was the calculation that it would be dangerous if rumors spread, but he didn’t want to do it even for the sake of the child in his stomach. What meaning would there be in eating well and sleeping comfortably in a warm place like that?

“Hah…”

According to the original plan, he should have moved to a new place to stay by now. He knows that the basics of escape involve confusing pursuers by simultaneously registering names at multiple lodgings. So he had planned to gather daily wages and move accommodations accordingly, but…

It wasn’t that he had no money at all. Fortunately, the smuggler had safely brought Sehwa to 2-Hwan and even politely requested additional transactions.

What he offered in exchange for the badge were a few gas masks, spare clothes, some packets of ramen, and a small amount of cash. It was a meager sum, far from the value of a single badge, but even that was desperately needed in the situation.

If it had been a request from a fence itching to put goods on the market, he would have refused, but a smuggler seemed fine. Because they’re someone who knows the value of items better than anyone. Even without being told, they wouldn’t use it right away. They’d save it carefully and take it out when absolutely necessary. That was enough.

So while he had more leeway than before… it wasn’t enough to just lounge around for three weeks or more. He needed to find work somehow.

“Wow, I really cooked it well this time.”

The spicy scent of ramen broth filled the old kitchen. Sehwa deliberately mumbled in an excited voice. If he just said it like that, maybe it would actually be okay.

Sometimes, if you think “this is cherry” while chewing, it really feels like cherry, and if you imagine “this tastes like strawberry,” it seems to taste that way.

Sehwa roughly wiped the sticky communal table and plopped down in his seat. Only after carefully noting the locations of the back door and windows he could escape through, and briefly listening for any sounds outside, did he pick up his spoon with relief.

The baby was quite fussy. Was it because it had only eaten luxurious things so far? It kept nagging Sehwa, craving expensive foods that were hard to find even in 4-Hwan, let alone 2-Hwan.

Forcibly swallowing the ramen broth he was already sick of, Sehwa recalled the first cherry he had eaten. Inevitably, this brought to mind the owner of the hand that had given him the fruit. Ki Tae-jeong’s face, smiling gently as if looking at something precious, and his low voice calling “Lee Sehwa,” came rushing in like waves, and then…

In the end, he just stared blankly at his own lazy reflection in the cheap spoon, unable to do anything.

It seemed unbelievable that until recently, he had slept with that man in a spacious two-story house, on a huge, soft bed so large you couldn’t fall off even if you rolled. It all felt like a lie – waking up excited each day, unable to hide his growing affection.

“…Eggs, hmm, ramen tastes better with eggs?”

He tried to change the subject, but it backfired. After muttering to the empty air that gave no response, Sehwa finally hung his head.

Was it so difficult for Tae-jeong to say one word of apology? The overwhelming emotions and memories kept making Sehwa’s knees buckle.

Hearing harsh words like “Someone like you is useless, so go back,” and curling up in a musty room brought on unbearable self-loathing…

“…Should we buy eggs for dinner even if we can’t find work? We have enough emergency funds for that much, at least.”

At such times, Sehwa spoke even more intimately to the child. Because he didn’t want to collapse like this, trying somehow to hold on.

His heart, which had been racing forward immersed in sweet fantasies, had lost its way, and he felt like his head would explode if he didn’t cling to something right away.

Even so, he couldn’t bring himself to say things like “I’ll give birth to you,” “I’ll take good care of you,” “I’m your dad.” He would just mumble meaningless words to his thin stomach before falling into a light sleep, almost like fainting.

“Actually… I always wondered, why did my parents give birth to me? But now I think I understand a little.”

Whenever he remembered he wasn’t alone, the fear subsided.

He would jump up at the slightest sound from outside, or curl up as much as possible, and only when he felt nothing would he breathe a sigh of relief, covered in cold sweat. It was a wonder he hadn’t developed a nervous breakdown.

Amidst all this, talking to the child in his belly helped him calm down a bit. Recalling the jelly-like tiny body in the ultrasound screen and the heartbeat that had been racing vigorously, his lips would unconsciously curl into a smile.

It was strange. Even though this child carried the blood of a man he now only despised, it was thanks to the baby that he could still endure.

Now that he knew the child had eyes to see and ears to hear, he quickly dismissed any wicked thoughts that suddenly arose. Even knowing there were easier paths, he became determined to earn money in a somewhat honest way. Despite being sick of eating only ramen, just two meals a day for several days, he could resist the temptation to easily extort money from drug dealers.

“Thank you for being here…”

When he thought about the child who could have lived a much happier life if it hadn’t come to him, he felt sorry, but…

“…Still, I feel like I’m living somewhat like a human being because of you…”

Sehwa gently patted his still-flat stomach. Perhaps because of the ramen he’d just eaten, it looked a bit more full than before.

After washing the pot with its blackened bottom, Sehwa gazed outside the kitchen for a long while before carefully moving.

The sky visible outside was pitch black even though it was daytime. Like the bottom of the old pot. They said the fire had been put out long ago, but it had reached this state because a significant amount of harmful substances had been burned without any precautions.

“…Should I give you a name too?”

Looking at the black dust-like particles stuck to the window, Sehwa suddenly asked the child in his belly without realizing it.

It felt a bit ridiculous and embarrassing to make such a decision so abruptly, in a dingy hotel room, looking out at the ominously black outside… But anyway, thanks to this baby, Sehwa was able to not give up on the ‘proof of existing as a person’ that he had craved all his life, even in this situation.

“Yes, I shouldn’t just say thank you with words…”

Now that they were in this together till death, it didn’t feel right to keep referring to the child as just “you” or “baby.”

Sehwa curled up into a ball and fell into deep thought.

He wanted to give a good and pretty name if possible. Even giving a nickname wasn’t something to be taken lightly. Samwol, Sakura, Hongdan… How small those awful nicknames had made him feel.

In that sense, he absolutely hated flowers, which were the origin of his own name. Even if it didn’t directly include the word “flower,” anything that evoked flowers was out.

“Then what should I do… Haneul (Sky)? Haetsal (Sunlight)?”

Sehwa, with his cheek pressed against his knee, considered things he liked. But the sky… Somehow everything up there felt like it belonged to Ki Tae-jeong. Moments of flying through the sky with him kept coming to mind, so he decided to exclude all of that as well.

“Forest? Tree?”

He turned his eyes to the ground. He had reflexively listed these, but after saying them out loud, they didn’t seem bad. Sehwa nodded slightly. Yes, something strong like a tree that wouldn’t budge even in a typhoon seemed better than being a weak and pathetic flower.

“But Soop (Forest), this might be hard to pronounce, ah…, Saessak (Sprout)?”

As Sehwa was pondering for a prettier, nickname-like way to call a lush tree, he suddenly thought of a cute word and lifted his head.

“Saessak…”

For something hastily chosen, it was quite appealing. No, the more he mulled it over, the more he liked it. A vigorous sprout that, though small now, held the potential to become anything in the future.

“…Saessak-ah.”

He quietly called out to the tiny bean-like baby, whose existence he couldn’t even feel yet, but who had grown a little more.

“Saessak-ah, can you hear me?”

It was a wondrous thing. Just by giving a mere nickname, not even a proper name, the warm feelings he had been trying to blindly ignore seemed to spring forth like a fountain.