ACJY C35

His body was exhausted, but his mind was wide awake. He’d listened to the rustling leaves and the chirping insects all night. The dogs barked occasionally, but not enough to wake the man or the child. He tossed and turned for hours, lost in thought. From far away, a rooster crowed. A cow mooed.

It was 4:30 a.m., but it was still quiet outside his door. It seemed both the man and the child slept late on Sundays. He wanted to go outside, but he couldn’t bring himself to wake them. Taeheun chuckled inwardly, thinking that if he were this considerate, he would have been married long ago.

At 6:00, the alarm went off. 6:00 a.m., 6:00 in the morning. No matter how you put it, it was early. Even on a weekday, it was early, but the man woke up on Sunday morning after only an hour and a half more sleep than usual. Taeheun thought the man would probably never truly understand the meaning of sleeping in.

The man went out to the yard first thing and gave the dogs food and water. Then he took down the laundry and sat on the porch, folding it neatly while glancing at the dogs eating. Even from behind, Taeheun could tell the man was smiling. He looked very peaceful.

“Good morning.”

The man greeted him first, seemingly aware of his presence.

“Yes, Mr. Gibeom, did you sleep well?”

“Yes.”

“You’re up early even on Sunday.”

He stepped onto the porch.

“I slept a lot. Are you feeling any better?”

The man asked, still busy folding clothes.

“Ah, well. I ache all over, but it’s not so bad that I can’t move.”

Taeheun yawned widely and looked up at the blue sky. The temperature felt ominous.

“Looks like it’s going to be very hot today.”

Feeling awkward just standing there, he sat down next to the man and helped him fold the clothes.

“We’re going to church with Jihye later. Would you like to come with us?”

The man asked cautiously.

“We all eat lunch together after the service. It’s delicious. There’s a lot of variety.”

The man added, as if he wasn’t just being polite.

Lunch, huh?

“Sure, why not,” Taeheun readily agreed.

“Is it a buffet?”

“Yes.”

“Nice.”

As he said this, he picked up a pair of underwear, only to have them snatched away by the man. Was it really something to blush about, two men touching underwear? It wasn’t even ripped. He grumbled inwardly, looking down at his empty hands.

“I’ll make breakfast after I finish folding the laundry,” the man said, seemingly embarrassed himself.

“Take your time. I’m not hungry yet.”

“Okay.”

Seeing the man pick up the last piece of laundry, Taeheun got up.

“Should I make some porridge for you?” the man asked as Taeheun was about to step down into the yard.

The man had been restless all evening, misunderstanding that Taeheun had vomited because he’d suddenly overexerted himself. No matter how much Taeheun denied it, the man wouldn’t listen. Well, overwork might have been a contributing factor, but the main reason was his emotional distress. The feeling of hating someone to death.

“Porridge? What for? Just Jihye and you, Mr. Gibeom, eat. I’m fine. Didn’t you see me eating tteokbokki yesterday?”

He joked, putting on his dirt-stained sneakers instead of slippers.

“I’m going for a walk. I might be a little late, so you go ahead and have breakfast.”

With that, he went out the gate.

Taeheun’s Benz and the man’s truck were parked side by side against the wall in front of the house.

He looked up at the high wall and stretched out his arm. Only when he stood on his tiptoes could his fingers reach the top of the wall. It was probably less than 3 meters, but definitely over 2.5 meters high.

Why did they build such a high wall? And why didn’t they lock the gate? Did the man build it, or was it the previous owner? He had a lot of questions.

Taeheun turned and stretched. He loosened his ankles and wrists, then lifted his legs high and slowly rotated them forward, backward, left, and right. He repeated the same movements with his left and right legs the same number of times before jogging in place. He started with small steps and gradually increased the height of his knees. After warming up like this until he felt warm, he shot forward like a bullet. Within five minutes, he was out of breath. But he didn’t stop. He ran and ran.

As he left the man’s house, surrounded by mountains, his surroundings suddenly opened up. His vision was filled with green fields. The wind was a little warmer, and the temperature felt 1 or 2 degrees higher than at the man’s house. It might have been because he was running.

As he ran, his breathing eventually stabilized. When he was learning judo, he used to run dozens of laps every day. It was a time when he didn’t shy away from strenuous exercise to build his stamina. He missed those days. The days when he could focus solely on training without any other thoughts. He remembered his teacher’s face, looking proudly at his rapidly improving student, calling him a “gold medalist.”

Out of the blue, Taeheun raised both arms and clenched his fists. He ran, swaggering like a gold medalist returning home in triumph. It made him feel a little better. Crazy bastard. He laughed to himself.

How far had he run from the man’s house? He started to encounter villagers. They weren’t out for a leisurely stroll but were elderly people heading to the fields to work before the sun got too hot. The women around his mother’s age, whom he’d met in the greenhouse, were nowhere to be seen, probably busy preparing breakfast.

Mother. Taeheun frowned unconsciously. It was a name that evoked affection and warmth for some, but not for him. Until she sold him to his uncle, his mother had been solely responsible for the family’s livelihood. She worked on the front lines in place of his incompetent father, raising two sons and a daughter, and feeding her husband. She must have suffered a lot. Yet, the reason he couldn’t feel even a shred of affection for her was that all her labor had been solely for his older brother.

Taeheun still vividly remembered the day he passed the entrance exam to a prestigious university at the young age of eighteen. That unforgettable day. The day he ate jajangmyeon alone, without any congratulations from his family.

The intrusion of these thoughts suggested he needed to run more vigorously. He picked up the pace, moving his feet more quickly and powerfully. He ran so fast that the wind whistled past him, scattering his sweat. He ran and ran until his underwear was soaked. His head cleared.

I’m lonely. Taeheun thought.

He’d been lonely all his life, and now he was so lonely he felt like he was going crazy.

He stopped running and crouched down on the spot.

✽✽✽

It seemed like everyone in the village had gathered at the church. Most of the faces were unfamiliar, but they knew who Taeheun was. They called him the “writer bachelor” or the “movie star bachelor.” Divorced, two kids, etc., they knew everything. Except it was all false rumors.

It was the first time he saw the man wearing a shirt. He wore a crisp white short-sleeved shirt, navy blue suit pants, and even dress shoes. The child was dressed similarly, in a pink dress and pink shoes, of course, and despite her short hair, she even wore a pink headband. They looked like they’d stepped out of the 70s or 80s. Despite this, Taeheun was very pleased with the man’s appearance. He looked neat, austere, and tall.

He dissuaded the man from driving his truck and had him ride in his Benz. He sat next to the man, with the child sitting like a princess in the back seat. Because of the man’s well-built physique, his shirt was taut and wrinkle-free.

Shit. I should have worn a shirt. A sense of rivalry arose instinctively. His slightly loose pique shirt, though fitted, suddenly displeased him. He laughed inwardly, thinking he was jealous of the strangest things.

Excluding the man, the villagers were divided into two groups: those who were dressed neatly and those who weren’t. The older they were, the more their fashion seemed stuck in the past, and occasionally, he even saw some elderly people in hanbok. There were over forty people gathered. Taeheun gave up counting and spotted Damas and the president of the youth group in the crowd.

The two of them definitely looked like people living in the present. Their complexions were bright and healthy. Anyone could see they were financially well-off. Taeheun stared at them, feeling a sense of incongruity.

Kwon Yongjun looked around for someone, and when he spotted his target, he smiled brightly. He went straight to the man and child. Meanwhile, the president of the youth group came over to Taeheun.

“As expected of someone from Seoul, you dress well.”

The president, himself dressed impeccably, complimented Taeheun.

“You look great too, hyungnim.”

“Ah, this.”

The president, unprompted, started talking about the brand name of his clothes, the price, where and when he bought them, and other trivial details.

“Are you feeling okay? Your face looks a bit pale.”

He then brought up the previous day’s incident and asked with concern.

“I’m fine. I’m sorry for making a scene.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. These things happen.”

Choi Gicheol reached out to pat Taeheun’s back. Taeheun subtly shifted his body to avoid his touch.

“There are a lot of people at church,” he said, changing the subject.

Unaware that Taeheun had deliberately dodged him, the president started rambling about the church.

Taeheun listened halfheartedly to the president’s story while searching for the man, who had disappeared from his sight. He spotted the man and the child sitting in the front row of the pews. Kwon Yongjun was wedged between them like an uninvited guest. As before, Kwon Yongjun was dressed in the kind of stylish clothes you’d see in Gangnam or Apgujeong. It suited his small, handsome face, but somehow felt out of place here.

Kwon Yongjun was talking with his right hand on the man’s back. He occasionally stroked the man’s back with his palm.

Taeheun frowned.

“What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

The president, who had been talking non-stop, asked.

“No, I bit my cheek.”

Taeheun covered his perfectly fine cheek with his hand.

“If you wanted meat, you should have said something. Why bite your own cheek?”

The president cracked a lame joke and laughed heartily.