ACJY C15

He woke to the sound of voices. He had a pillow under his head and a summer blanket covering him; the man must have brought them. At the table, he saw a familiar figure from behind. The voice, too, was familiar. It was Detective Oh.

“Heard you’ve been busy lately?”

“It’s summer, what do you expect?”

“Gotta make hay while the sun shines. Even if it’s tough, think of it as your own work.”

“Yes, I will.”

Detective Oh offered advice to the man as an older brother might to a much younger sibling. The “make hay” part was fine, but telling him to treat someone else’s work like his own didn’t sit right with Taeheun. It wasn’t particularly good advice.

A rustling sound made both men turn to look at Taeheun.

“You’re awake?” Detective Oh asked.

“Yes.”

“Seriously? You’ve barely been out and you’re already attempting an escape?”

Detective Oh, who rarely raised his voice, spoke sharply.

Taeheun sat up, scratching his eyebrow. Blood smeared on his fingernail.

The man noticed the blood before Detective Oh did. Limping, he hurried over and crouched in front of Taeheun. He carefully brushed aside Taeheun’s hair, his brow furrowing in concern.

“You have a cut above your eyebrow. It seems like it’s gotten infected from you touching it.”

Just as he had with Taeheun’s foot, the man fetched the first-aid kit and disinfected the cut, applying ointment. Although his face had turned crimson just from making eye contact with Taeheun before, now, sitting close enough to feel his breath, he tended to the wound without a hint of awkwardness. He was a strange man.

After carefully applying a bandage, the man smiled with satisfaction. Then, suddenly realizing how close he was, he startled and fell back onto his rear. Taeheun laughed.

He’d been scratching what he thought was his eyebrow all this time, when it was actually a cut above it. He felt remarkably obtuse.

“My, you’re quite a handful,” Detective Oh quipped sarcastically.

“Let’s go. It’s late,” he said, standing up from the table and urging Taeheun on.

This time, Taeheun readily complied. A proper night’s sleep and a full stomach had put him in a more agreeable mood. The escape had been worth it, he thought, resolving to return. He bid the man farewell.

“Jihye, Uncle’s leaving,” Detective Oh called out. The child came running from the other room.

“Uncle, goodbye! Come visit again soon!”

The child hugged Detective Oh, then became shy.

“Hey, Yoon Jihye. Aren’t you going to say goodbye to your older brother, too?”

Taeheun teased, striking a playful pose. The child stuck out their tongue. Fortunately, before the man could say “That’s not very nice,” the child bowed quickly.

“Goodbye, Beggar Mister.”

Detective Oh looked bewildered at the child’s words.

The man was flustered, and Taeheun laughed.

“Alright, see you later.” He blew a kiss. The child pretended to vomit and ran back into their room.

“That kid is something else,” Detective Oh chuckled good-naturedly.

“So, how did you end up a beggar?” Detective Oh asked, and Taeheun just laughed.

“Let’s go. Thank you,” he said to the man.

The man nodded silently.

5.

After meeting the man, Taeheun came down with a fever. Not a love fever, but, ridiculously enough, a food fever. He craved yeolmu noodles so intensely it drove him mad. All day, he thought about the noodles he’d eaten. And when he thought about the noodles, he also thought about the man tending to his foot, and the memory of that sweet sleep.

Detective Oh, who had taken him to the safe house, sternly warned him against further unauthorized excursions. “Sir, if you keep this up, you’re the one who’ll be in trouble. We’re not exactly thrilled to have you here.”

“Then officially let me out. How long are you going to keep me locked up?”

“Locked up? This is for your safety.”

“Bullshit, safety. When did I ever ask you to protect me? You’re just keeping me locked up for your own convenience.”

Taeheun blamed them for making him escape in the first place.

He wasn’t truly angry with Detective Oh. He knew Detective Oh had done him the most favors and was also caught in the middle. Still, he was angry, and Detective Oh was the only person he could direct that anger towards.

After Detective Oh left, Taeheun stopped answering the check-in calls. He spent his days staring blankly at the wall. The phone rang incessantly, and he stubbornly refused to answer. Security tightened. He began to hear footsteps he hadn’t noticed before. Instead of calls, they sent people to check on him in person.

His fever worsened with each passing day. It wasn’t just the incredibly delicious yeolmu noodles anymore. It was the smell of cheap laundry detergent on the clothes he’d worn, the feeling of the man’s hands on his foot and eyebrow, and the memory of that incredibly sweet sleep. Even when awake, these thoughts consumed him.

I have to get out, he resolved. Even if they catch me again, I have to get out.

Taeheun forced himself to eat, finishing every grain of rice to build up his strength. He ate, drank water, and exercised. He mastered every exercise possible within the confines of the small room, even running in place.

Finally, sensing something was amiss, they sent Detective Oh.

“Is it that unbearable?” Detective Oh asked, sounding exasperated.

“How can I bear it when I have no idea when I’m getting out?”

“There’s an idea. Soon.”

“When is ‘soon’?”

Detective Oh closed his mouth.

“I’m hungry,” Taeheun said.

Detective Oh frowned, as if to say, “You’re eating well enough, what are you talking about?”

“There’s something I want to eat.”

“Then tell me. I’ll even bring you caviar.”

“I can’t eat it here. Make a fire.”

“What are you talking about?”

Exasperated by the cryptic conversation, Detective Oh finally snapped.

“Let me out of here. As soon as possible. Otherwise, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Taeheun issued a threat.

He knew that people changed their tune depending on the situation; it wasn’t just the world he came from. These people were no different, perhaps even worse. And they were government officials, to boot. With their endless reports and approvals, he could be stuck here for a year.

They needed Lee Seonjae. Evidence that couldn’t be proven without him, ledgers that couldn’t be deciphered without him. Knowing this, Detective Oh looked troubled by Taeheun’s threat.

“Alright. I’ll go back and report this.”

Detective Oh left. The next day, the answer came.

― July 14th, Wednesday. We’ll see you then.

“Not June?”

He repeatedly confirmed that it was indeed July.

Overjoyed by the date, which was much sooner than he’d expected, Taeheun immediately drew a calendar in his notebook. Like a prisoner counting down the days to release, he circled the date he would go to Dongjaem-ri.

He marked an X on each passing day. He obediently answered the check-in calls, picked at his food as before, and drank copious amounts of water. He even drew pictures and wrote words on the wall with his urine. Whenever the name Taeheun felt unfamiliar, he muttered it to himself, reminding himself who he was. Mr. Gibeom, Jihye, he also frequently repeated the names of those he would live with.

Meanwhile, the wound on his foot healed completely. The cut above his eyebrow, which had become infected from constant scratching, scabbed over and eventually fell off. He carefully taped the bandage the man had given him onto a page in his notebook. He felt like a lovesick teenager. That was the only good thing.

For the most part, Taeheun remained depressed, even with his release date set. His insomnia and lethargy persisted. The quality of his sleep deteriorated further. While he used to sleep for at least an hour, even with frequent waking, now even that was difficult. He’d doze off for a mere five or ten minutes before waking up. Even in those fleeting moments of sleep that barely qualified as rest, the same dream haunted him. He never dreamt of the yeolmu noodles, unfortunately. He always found himself standing in the garden of the two-story house.

His lethargy intensified. On a drizzly day, he even wet himself where he sat, remaining there for hours afterward. Fuck. This is so embarrassing, he thought, nothing more. Later, he wondered if he was seriously ill, but then he recalled the clean bill of health from his thorough medical checkup a month earlier and felt reassured.

His mind raced incessantly. Confined like this, he realized just how many useless thoughts a person could have. Taeheun, who had always valued time as precious, now had too much of it and spent it conjuring up all sorts of things. Rarely did these thoughts involve his family, uncle, or Lee Hyeonjun. Occasionally, he’d wonder when the funeral would be, or who would receive the life insurance payout.

He wouldn’t recommend this idle passing of time to anyone, especially someone already prone to lethargy and emotional swings. Even with his release date so close, he might have slit his throat if he’d had a knife. He barely managed to suppress the suicidal urges, not wanting to lose face by resorting to a pencil.

Finally, the day of his release arrived. Taeheun marked the last X on his calendar and waited for Detective Oh. They hadn’t set a specific time, only agreeing on the 14th.

Having spent another sleepless night, Taeheun anxiously watched the clock. Worried they might not come for him, he bit his nails for the first time in his life.

So this is what self-harm feels like.

Seeing the blood welling up on his fingertips, he forced himself to stop.

“Sir?”

It was Detective Park Donghee.

Seeing Taeheun already waiting by the door, Detective Park startled and stepped back.

“Let’s go.”

Without a backward glance, Taeheun left the foul-smelling safe house, carrying nothing but his notebook.