ACJY C8

He’d thought things would change drastically. That dawn, weeping under the hood, he’d truly believed he would be reborn. He’d imagined becoming a completely new person, like a chick hatching from an egg, a snake shedding its skin, or even a moth emerging from its cocoon. He’d believed his sleepless nights and listless days were finally over.

It was nothing but a fantasy.

His body was the same; what could possibly change?

Taeheun yawned widely and sat up. His body ached all over. Sleeping on the floor instead of a bed was torture, especially when he’d only managed an hour of sleep in three days.

He habitually glanced at his wrist and sighed. Instead of the luxury watch he’d cherished—Taeheun wasn’t attached to possessions, except for that watch—he wore a cheap digital watch, the same kind he’d bought when he enlisted in the army.

Before entering this place, he had been strip-searched. To check if he’d smuggled anything in, if he had anything attached to him. They’d taken his watch that day. And not just the watch; everything. After taking it all, they’d condescendingly given him this electronic watch, a tracksuit, and rubber slippers.

The tiny room contained only a yo (Korean mattress), a blanket, a pile of underwear, a mini-fridge, and a phone. No radio, no TV, no magazines or comic books to distract him. The fluorescent light flickered weakly, offering little illumination. With no windows, the air was stale, and the poorly fitted plywood door let in smells from the cracks. It wasn’t a pleasant smell either, but the stench of urine from the adjacent bathroom. He had escaped the fishy smell he loathed so much, only to be greeted by the even more pungent odor of urine.

What a beautiful life, he scoffed.

The layout of the house was simple. A single room and a smelly bathroom next to it. Beyond the room’s door was a cement floor. Even if he put on the neatly placed slippers and slid open the flimsy aluminum door, all he’d see was a high wall topped with barbed wire. The space between the wall and the sliding door was barely wide enough for an adult to pass through. Standing there and looking up, all he could see were the gloomy slate eaves. He’d been to slums and redevelopment zones, but he’d never seen a house like this. And this is where Kim Taeheun was.

Kim Taeheun.

What a damn difficult name. On the first day, he’d kept mispronouncing it. On the second day, he finally managed to say “Heun” correctly. And only today did it finally feel like his own name, thanks to relentlessly repeating it over the past three days.

Around the age of ten, when he’d changed from Kim Jiyoon to Lee Seonjae, he hadn’t needed to make any effort to adjust to the new name. The family he lived with had immediately started calling him Seonjae without hesitation. Even before the ink on his family registry was dry, they’d switched. His mother, who’d sold her son for a three-bedroom apartment, had led the charge. His father, as always, had taken a cowardly step back and feigned ignorance.

Back then, Taeheun had been overjoyed to become Lee Seonjae. Compared to the cramped single room where five family members had huddled together, the apartment felt like heaven. Moreover, his beloved aunt, whom he adored, had become his mother, at least on paper. It had been a dream come true.

“Kim Taeheun. Director Kim.”

Taeheun had no idea where he was. The roll call officer had said it wasn’t Seoul. They’d refused to provide any further information, offering the tired excuse of “for his safety.” Whose safety was this place really for?

He’d thought he’d have it easy. He’d figured he’d sleep and laze around, killing time effortlessly. He hadn’t imagined he’d have sleepless nights, hadn’t imagined they’d throw him into a smelly place like this, even if there were no better options available.

Shit.

He scratched his eyebrow.

The phone rang once and hung up. There was no follow-up call after a minute. Food. He heard the sound of a lunchbox being lowered from above the high wall. Meals were delivered twice a day like this, but he’d barely touched them. The overpowering smell from the bathroom made him feel like he was eating in a latrine, completely ruining his appetite.

To quell the hunger pangs from his meager meals, he drank water constantly. The water made him need to urinate, and he’d hold it in as long as he could before going to relieve himself. He usually urinated against the wall, which was much cleaner than the bathroom. There was no one to scold him for exposing himself.

He knew there must be a watcher somewhere, but he’d never heard footsteps or voices. Just silence. Sometimes, the thought that the watcher probably had a better place to stay than he did made him furious.

For three days, all Taeheun had done was answer the phone three times a day, pick at his food, and drink water. He’d left the meal choices entirely up to them, having no appetite for anything in particular. He hadn’t requested newspapers or a radio either. The roll call officer had cautiously asked him if he was okay during the morning call, even subtly suggesting they could bring him some adult magazines. It was understandable, considering Taeheun hadn’t been sleeping or eating properly, just mumbling his name all day.

“Bring me some raw fish and soju. ”

He’d finally thought of something he wanted to eat.

Starving and lying around all day had made him stiff. For the first time in three days, he felt like exercising. He did 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, and other bodyweight exercises he could think of until he was drenched in sweat. He went to the bathroom and splashed cold water over himself. It cleared his head momentarily, but the listlessness remained.

“I want to die quickly,” he muttered under his breath.

Of course, Lee Seonjae was dead. He’d died a spectacular death, consumed by flames. The day he would be granted a new life as Kim Taeheun was fast approaching. He would soon receive his new ID and passport. He had died to live, but in truth, he had died because he wanted to die. What a cruel joke. He chuckled bitterly.

Detective Oh didn’t know yet. How devastated he would be to learn that the person he had worked so hard to save actually wanted to die. A pang of guilt shot through Taeheun.

He opened the door to his room and the sliding door beyond it and sat staring blankly at the wall. The sky was overcast. The air was thick with moisture, hinting at impending rain.

His stomach growled. He grabbed a 2-liter bottle of water and gulped it down. Crushing the empty bottle, he felt the urge to urinate. He slowly stood up, exposed himself, and aimed at the wall. Come to think of it, it’s been a while since I’ve used this thing. He tried to recall the last time he’d ejaculated, but he couldn’t remember, so he gave up.

The wall darkened where Taeheun had urinated. Perhaps because he’d been drinking so much water, there was no smell. I’ll write my name with my pee tomorrow, he thought idly, returning to his room and leaning against the wall.

The second roll call phone rang. A different voice usually called, but this time, a familiar, welcome voice spoke.

—It’s Turtle.

“It’s been a while.”

His voice involuntarily rose with excitement.

—I hear you’ve barely been eating.

“Word travels fast, doesn’t it?”

—Small town, you know.

Taeheun chuckled at Detective Oh’s joke.

—Doesn’t the food suit your taste?

“It’s not that, it’s the smell of urine.”

—Ah.

Detective Oh sighed.

—You still need to eat. What if you get sick?

“I can’t bring myself to eat. You’d understand if you spent a night here.”

—I’ll come over this evening. Let’s have some soju and raw fish.

The call ended with a promise to see him later.

He hadn’t known waiting could be so pleasant.

Time flew by.

The phone rang at 7 p.m. sharp, a couple of hours earlier than usual. One ring, two rings, then on the third, he waited for the five rings before answering. As soon as the last roll call was over, Detective Oh knocked on the door.

They didn’t have much to say. They just ate and drank. Taeheun, feeling his appetite return for the first time in days, worked his chopsticks diligently. The hweh wasn’t particularly fresh, but it was palatable enough with soju.

“How are things on the other side?” Taeheun finally spoke.

“Quiet. No funeral yet.”

“No funeral?”

Taeheun raised an eyebrow.

“He’s been dead for three days. No, four days now, isn’t it?”

“They said they’re going to confirm the DNA.”

Detective Oh sighed.

“Damn it. They’re pulling all the stops.”

They didn’t believe a man had burned to death in an accident right in front of their eyes. It was typical of his uncle, but still, they should at least hold a funeral.

“Didn’t you say he was completely burned? Is a DNA test even possible?”

“There’s nothing left, but they said a test is possible, something about the nucleus. It just takes longer.”

“There’s no problem, right?”

“Of course not. Don’t worry.”

Detective Oh answered confidently.

“What about his parents?”

“They’re grieving, of course.”

Taeheun smiled bitterly at Detective Oh’s misunderstanding.

“I meant, did they agree to postpone the funeral?”

“Oh.”

Detective Oh scratched his head sheepishly.

“Well, they seem to be leaving everything up to Lee Seokdu.”

He’d asked a stupid question. Officially, Taeheun was Lee Seokdu’s son. His biological parents had no say in the matter. Still, hearing it from Detective Oh made him curious.

“Are they truly grieving?”

“Of course, they are.”

“Be honest. Are they really?” Taeheun pressed.

Unable to lie, Detective Oh neither confirmed nor denied. He took a swig of soju instead.

Figures.

They were the kind of people who would worry about money before grieving their son’s death. Hadn’t they given up all rights to their son in exchange for an apartment and a living allowance when they’d given him up for adoption to Lee Seokdu? Now that their adopted son, whom they’d given up out of necessity, was dead, there was no reason for his uncle to continue paying them. He might even take back the apartment, and they’d have to give it up. The thought of his parents anxiously trying to please his uncle made his stomach churn. He emptied his soju glass.