DAH Ch 2

Kind, but there was a wall between them. Jungjoon assumed he was naturally aloof and didn’t force conversation.

Even when they finally reached the parking lot and got in the car together, no words were exchanged after Jungjoon suggested they sit in the back with the child due to the luggage in the passenger seat.

“……”

As he started driving, Jungjoon glanced at the back seat several times. The air was heavy, as if he was chauffeuring his boss.

The man’s profile, looking out the window, was reflected in the rearview mirror. Jungjoon found himself studying his features.

How strange. He looked to be in his mid to late twenties.

Even in casual clothes, he had a crispness, like he was wearing a suit. He exuded a sense of restraint that made Jungjoon wonder what he did for a living.

Is that why I’m so tense? He thought, staring at the man’s clean-cut profile. He had seemed younger and more approachable earlier, but now that seemed to be a mistake. The unique aura he’d felt at their first meeting was still there.

‘…Someone can actually look like that.’

The more he looked, the more purely amazed he became. Not only was his face unreal, but his body too. His large frame and muscles evoked a mix of feelings.

A body impossible to achieve without strict and thorough self-management. Innate qualities combined with hard work resulted in a physique brimming with an intimidating presence. Ian, sitting next to the man, looked smaller than ever.

Had it been reckless to invite him home? The inexplicable discomfort made him repeatedly check the rearview mirror and clear his throat. Only after bringing him into a confined, private space did the realization that he was a complete stranger truly sink in.

And once again, glancing at the man in the mirror, Jungjoon thought, He’s someone I could never have any connection with.

As if sensing his glances, the man turned from the window, their eyes meeting. Jungjoon quickly looked away and asked, as if he’d just been about to, “Which way is your… house?”

“I live nearby.”

The man’s reply was again concise.

“…I see.”

He tried to keep the conversation going but failed. Deciding silence was better than forcing awkward small talk, he closed his mouth. Instead, he turned on the radio to fill the silence.

Gripping the steering wheel, Jungjoon swallowed a sigh. The drive home felt longer than usual.

Inside the house, the man changed into clothes Jungjoon offered him. A gift he’d received but hadn’t worn because it was too big, it fit the man perfectly.

The child, who had dozed in the car, fell asleep as soon as he was laid down in his room. While the laundry ran, the two adults sat facing each other at the living room table. The man sipped the iced tea Jungjoon had brought him and looked around the small living room.

“Nice atmosphere.”

Jungjoon awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well, with a child… I just try to keep things tidy.”

It wasn’t false modesty. It was the truth. The old apartment showed its age. He kept furniture and belongings to a minimum, focusing on cleaning and tidying. It was inevitable that a single father’s home would be somewhat lacking.

“No, you have good taste. It’s cozy and neat.”

“…Really?”

“The wooden cabinet in the front is also very atmospheric. You chose well.”

Most of the furniture in the house was secondhand. The piece the man complimented was the only new item Jungjoon had splurged on.

“…That’s good to hear.”

He was pleased that someone recognized its value. But at the same time, he felt a pang of bitterness. Usually, people would compliment the wife’s taste. The man, however, spoke as if he knew Jungjoon had chosen it. It was probably his insecurity, but he couldn’t help but hear it as, “Not bad for a single dad’s place.” It was a bitter reminder that no matter how hard he tried, it still looked like a home run by a single father.

Jungjoon quietly sipped his drink. Honestly, he wanted the laundry to finish quickly so he could return the man’s clothes and send him on his way. While the man was much more sociable than in the car, the awkwardness Jungjoon felt hadn’t disappeared. He regretted inviting a stranger over, having not anticipated this level of discomfort.

“The child resembles his mother.”

“…What?”

Lost in thought, Jungjoon raised his head.

“…Ah. Yes, well…. He has my forehead and ears, though.”

Strictly speaking, the child resembled neither Jungjoon nor his mother. The child resembled someone else.

After answering, Jungjoon glanced at the display cabinet in the living room. Inside was a family photo taken when Ian was two. The only picture of the three of them together, taken before Ian’s mother died.

“What was the child’s name again?”

“Ah, Ian. Seo Ian.”

He added quickly, “Actually… I didn’t recognize you at first.”

Hesitantly, he brought up their previous encounter on the street. He felt bad pretending not to remember, and he also wanted to avoid any conversation about Ian or his mother.

“…Yesterday, on the street… You mistook me for someone you knew… right?”

Jungjoon was surprised by the man’s unexpectedly startled expression. After he clarified the situation, the tension in the man’s eyes eased, and he nodded.

“…Yes, that’s right. You recognized me.”

“I remember you were wearing a suit then…. You look quite different today. Much younger. Almost like a college student.”

As soon as he said it, Jungjoon regretted it. Nerves and awkwardness were making him babble.

“I’m not that young.”

The man smiled faintly. Jungjoon quickly looked down and asked, “Ah… right. Um, would you like more to drink?”

“One more glass, please.”

Taking the offered glass, Jungjoon escaped to the kitchen. He felt a small sense of relief as he made the iced tea.

“You must know someone who looks like me.”

While preparing the drink, Jungjoon asked a question he wasn’t particularly curious about, just to avoid silence.

“…Yes.”

The man agreed briefly, then added, “I haven’t seen them for a long time….”

But he trailed off instead of finishing the sentence. The look on his face as he reminisced overlapped with the expression he’d worn when he’d mistaken Jungjoon for someone he knew.

“…How do you know them?”

The man’s eyes met Jungjoon’s at the casual question.

“Just, first love.”

Jungjoon’s hands froze, ice clinking in the glass. He stopped what he was doing and let out a dry laugh. But seeing the man’s serious eyes, he froze again.

“…That’s the first time I’ve been told I look like a woman.”

Jungjoon forced a smile. But strangely, the man didn’t smile back or offer any explanation. His continued, humorless gaze made Jungjoon feel uneasy.

“You were… joking… right, just now?”

At the questioning tone, the man finally gave a faint smile.

And that was all.

“…….”

The inexplicably ambiguous attitude wiped the expression from Jungjoon’s face. The man’s strange reaction extinguished his desire to play host.

Jungjoon realized something was off about this man. Now that he’d recognized the strange feeling, a wave of discomfort washed over him. He just wanted the man to leave, to stop wasting his precious time.

How did I end up inviting this person into my home?

The thought that this bizarre man was ruining his quiet Saturday afternoon with his son made him anxious.

“Um, excuse me, but I think it’s time…”

He started to make an excuse about his son to get the man to leave.

“Do you still like cats?”

The man’s unexpected question stopped Jungjoon mid-sentence. What did he just say? Jungjoon struggled to process the words. The calm face before him suddenly seemed like a grotesque mask.

“…What…?”

“I saw the picture on the wall.”

Jungjoon followed the man’s gaze. He saw the framed print a coworker had given him. A painting of a cat reaching for fish in a bowl. He’d heard it was by a famous artist, but he hadn’t paid much attention and had forgotten the name.

“…….”

Did I like cats? Confusion swirled in his mind. He thought he probably liked them quite a bit when he was younger. Life was so hectic now that even his own preferences had become hazy.

He’d once thought about getting a pet. But as he got older, that desire had faded. Recently, he’d been discouraging his son from wanting a puppy. He’d hung the cat picture simply because it was a gift, not because he particularly liked cats.

“…….”

A chilling discomfort ran down his spine. A feeling he’d never experienced before. The man suddenly felt like something strange and unknowable. Something wearing a human mask, but not human.

Jungjoon instinctively sensed danger.

“Look… would you please leave now? I have to go out again soon with my son.”

“…….”

The man sat still, just staring silently.

“Where are you going?”

He asked brazenly, without even pretending to get up. His composure fueled Jungjoon’s discomfort.

“…I don’t think I need to tell you that.”

Jungjoon’s tone was colder now. The man showed no reaction to the change. He simply tilted his head, as if it didn’t matter what Jungjoon did.

Unlike the man, Jungjoon was unnerved by the shift in atmosphere. Moments ago, the man had been an awkward but grateful guest; now he seemed like a suspicious character. Despite trying to appear calm, the man’s size and unusual demeanor made him uneasy.

“…….”

His son was sleeping in the other room. He had to stay alert to protect him in case of a sudden outburst. He mentally cataloged potential weapons in the apartment. How could he defend himself against someone so much larger? How could he attack and subdue him? He needed to anticipate the man’s actions to protect his son.

“Don’t look at me like I’m a monster.”

“…….”

“Do you think I came here to do something bad?”

The man looked directly at Jungjoon as he spoke.

Swallowing hard, Jungjoon stared back at the intruder.

A new kind of unease gripped him, as the man’s words echoed in his mind. The man’s eyes triggered a nagging feeling, a sense of something just out of reach.

Thump…

Thump…

His heart pounded in his ears.

Whoosh…

The sound of rain starting to fall outside was distant and muffled.

The unfamiliar face before him. The humid air. The slightly different smell of his home. The clinking of melting ice in the glass and the lingering sweetness on his tongue. Every sensation was overly sharp and vivid.

“…….”

As he met the man’s gaze, Jungjoon felt a sense of inevitability. Those dark, magnetic eyes. Struggling to resist their pull, Jungjoon forgot to breathe. His eyelids tightened, his irises widening.

No.

No.

That’s not possible.

It can’t be…

Jungjoon’s face paled as he denied the thought. Cold sweat broke out on his back and palms.

He realized he’d reacted too strongly and looked away, but it was too late. The moment he’d acknowledged and shown his emotions, everything had become undeniable.

It felt like spilled water was soaking his feet. The man watched him, holding his breath. Time seemed to stop. Then, defying all of Jungjoon’s expectations, the man stood up.

“…I should get going.”

He spoke calmly and started to walk away. Jungjoon watched him, disbelieving.

“…….”

“I’m sorry.”

He stopped before leaving the living room and apologized.

“I didn’t mean to do this. I apologize if I upset you.”

Polite words, unlike the menacing figure from moments before. He rubbed his jaw and explained calmly, “I swear, I bumped into you by chance…. I hope you don’t misunderstand that part.”

“…….”

Jungjoon’s heart pounded in the heavy silence. Thump, thump, thump… His eyes seemed to vibrate with each beat.

“Oh, and the clothes… I’ll wash them and bring them back soon, so don’t worry. You can keep mine or throw them away, whatever you like.”

He was still wearing Jungjoon’s clothes. He didn’t mind if the man kept them; they were clothes he didn’t wear anyway, but he couldn’t speak.

The man looked down at him with an unreadable expression, then swallowed hard and said, “It was nice meeting you. Take care.”

A farewell. With that, he turned and walked to the front door without another word or backward glance.

“…….”

The sound of his footsteps followed by the closing door. Slam. The sound of the lock clicking.

A few seconds of stunned silence. Jungjoon couldn’t even blink. He tried to objectively understand what had just happened.

He replayed the entire encounter, but couldn’t pinpoint where it had gone wrong. Just thinking about the man, about the things he’d said, the implication that he knew Jungjoon, was overwhelming.

“…It can’t be…”

That’s impossible.

How could this happen…?

Denying reality, Jungjoon suddenly looked up. He turned towards the door the man had exited and, as if seized by a sudden resolve, followed him out.

He ran down the long hallway. Heavy rain lashed against the railing, spraying into the corridor. The faint smell of mildew and cooking wafted from the open windows.

He repeatedly pressed the unresponsive elevator button, then ran down the stairs. Bursting out onto the ground floor, he looked around frantically. Not seeing the figure he sought, he ran out into the street.

Cold rain soaked him to the bone. Pushing his wet hair back, Jungjoon finally spotted the tall man’s back. His vision blurred, the smell of wet grass intensified, making him dizzy.

“Lee Yoonhae!”

The man stopped dead in his tracks at the name shouted through the rain. As Jungjoon started towards him, he began walking again without looking back.

“…Lee Yoonhae!”

He shouted again, louder, and the man stopped again. Jungjoon hurried towards him, his heart pounding.

“…….”

The relentless rain obscured his vision. Jungjoon wiped the rain and tears from his face and looked up at the man. He was drenched, just like him. His back, broad and solid as a rock, betrayed no emotion.

“…….”

He had chased after him, called out his name, but now he couldn’t speak. The man had stopped when he’d called him Yoonhae, so it must be him. But he couldn’t believe this was the Yoonhae he knew.

He remembered a small boy, thin and delicate. He couldn’t find any trace of that boy in the man before him.

…Ah.

A hollow realization made Jungjoon laugh, covering his eyes.

Seventeen years. It had been seventeen years since they’d last seen each other. So much time had passed. It was absurd to expect him to look the same.

That small boy was now a grown man standing before him.

So much taller than him, so much stronger than him,

His…

“…….”

“Why are you crying?”

The man turned and spoke. Jungjoon realized he was crying. Hot tears streamed down his face, beneath his hands.

“If anyone should be crying, it should be me.”

A soft, breathless laugh. The sound, mixed with the patter of rain, seemed strangely unreal.

He didn’t know why he was crying. Once the tears started, they wouldn’t stop, and his shoulders shook with the effort of holding them back. Rain and tears mingled, salty on his chin.

The man gently took Jungjoon’s arm and led him under the cover of a nearby building. Sheltered from the rain, he reached out and touched Jungjoon’s face, a slightly intrusive gesture.

His hand wiped away the rain and tears and dropped away. The unfamiliar touch, the lingering warmth, the still-raging emotions, all combined to leave Jungjoon in a state of utter confusion.

“Stop crying.”

“Stop crying,” the man said gently. “Does Ian know his dad’s a crybaby?” he teased, helping Jungjoon compose himself.

“……”

Could this really be Yoonhae? How could someone change so completely?

Jungjoon tried to connect the boy in his memory with the man before him. It was hard to shake his doubts; there was nothing left of the child’s features. And yet, despite everything, Jungjoon had felt certain in that moment of recognition, and he had even received confirmation.

While his features, voice, mannerisms, and overall aura were completely different, one thing faintly reminded him of the boy:

The man’s eyes, deep and dark like a bottomless pool. The chilling sensation of being drawn into their depths – it was something Jungjoon had long forgotten.

“…It’s funny, isn’t it?”

“…….”

“I searched for you for so long, but we never met. Then, when I finally gave up and moved on, we meet like this.”

Looking back, Jungjoon had occasionally imagined what Yoonhae would look like as an adult, what he might be doing now. Even when he tried not to, he couldn’t help but wonder.

The reality of the grown-up Yoonhae shattered all those imagined scenarios. Overwhelmed by the sudden realization, Jungjoon looked at him with red-rimmed eyes, then abruptly turned away. He felt nauseous again.

“…….”

Bzzzt— A vibration. Jungjoon instinctively patted his pockets, then realized they were empty. He’d run out of the house without his phone.

Yoonhae took out his phone, checked the caller ID, and answered. While he spoke to someone, Jungjoon finally came to his senses, hit by a wave of reality. He started to worry about leaving his son alone at home, even if he was asleep.

“…Okay. I’ll be there soon.”

It sounded like a work-related call, despite it being the weekend. He hung up with a sigh, as if annoyed. He turned back to Jungjoon, looking like he had something to say. But noticing Jungjoon’s eagerness to return home, his expression changed to a faint smile.

“We should both get going.”

“…Right.”

He held out his phone.

“…Your number…. Could I have it?”

“…….”

“…Just asking.”

Jungjoon reached out and stopped him from putting the phone away. He typed his number into Yoonhae’s phone and handed it back.

“Call me.”

Yoonhae looked down at the number and smiled faintly.

“We could at least have a meal together.”

“…….”

“…We’re at least that close, right?”

At the question, Jungjoon looked down. He felt a stinging in his eyes and nodded heavily. Yoonhae smiled silently at him.

They exchanged a few more words and turned to go their separate ways. Yoonhae said he’d be in touch soon, and Jungjoon nodded in agreement. Be careful getting back. See you later. A dry, casual farewell, as if they’d see each other again soon. Then they parted.

The rain had lessened on the way back. The weight on his face and shoulders felt lighter. He wiped his wet face, the concrete beneath his feet gleaming darkly.

The ground, transformed into a shallow lake, reflected the city’s gloomy lights. Passing the buildings and streetlamps reflected on its surface, Jungjoon walked home as if in a trance, just as he had left.

What if Ian woke up and opened the door by himself? The worry struck him as he rode the elevator up. The events of the day lingered like an aftershock, and a sudden wave of fear washed over him. As soon as the elevator doors opened, he ran down the hallway.

Beep, beep beep…

He hurriedly punched in the code, the lock disengaged, and he pushed the door open. Rushing in, intending to check on his son first, he stopped short.

Ian was standing right in front of the shoe rack, looking up at him.

“Dad, where were you?”

“…Uh…”

Jungjoon stared down at his son, wide-eyed.

“Dad… what’s wrong?”

“…….”

An overwhelming sense of relief washed over him, and his legs gave way. He sank to his knees and hugged his son tightly.

With his eyes closed, he felt Ian’s warm body, smelled his scent. The scent of Ian’s skin, his shampoo, the familiar smell of his home. The realization that he was back washed over him intensely.

“Dad… are you crying?”

Ian asked hesitantly. Jungjoon shook his head.

“…No. Daddy’s not crying.”

He pulled his small body closer.

“Daddy… you’re wet.”

You’re wet, Ian repeated, his pronunciation still a little clumsy. A soft laugh escaped Jungjoon’s lips as he buried his face in his son’s soft neck. Just a little longer, just a little longer, he pleaded silently, holding onto the warmth.