SUNGMIN'S POV:
Ah-in reached over and put a hand on my arm as if pulling me out of my daze, keeping me on the ground of reality. I didn't pull away. My mind was still processing what it had finally gotten to know: the truth that had been kept hidden.
"He doesn't know, does he?" I said, still not looking at them.
"No, Joohwan hyung never got a chance to know who it was," Hosung said.
I pressed the heels of my palms against my eyes. Held them there for a moment. The heat of my eyes burnt through my palms. It felt so suffocating now, the too-much information my head is not handling, though I am forcing it to.
I stood up abruptly; that made my head spin, but I stood my ground without any support. Their heads shot up with slightly widened eyes.
"You guys should have told me sooner," I said, walking toward the entryway.
"Sungmin, please don't go like this." Ah-in stood up from the couch, her voice filled with tears.
"I'm not running away, Ah-in; I just need to breathe. I need to be somewhere where the air doesn't taste like it's holding secrets."
I grabbed the doorknob, threw it open, and stepped out into the quiet corridor without looking back. The heavy metal door slammed shut behind me with a clang, cutting off their apartment and leaving me entirely alone with the roaring in my ears.
As I walked down the stairs, I couldn't step down further; I held the rail with my knees shaking and my heart pounding. I sat down on the stairs. The cold concrete seeped right through my clothes, but I barely felt it. I rested my elbows on my knees, my breath coming in jagged, uneven gasps.
HE DOESN'T KNOW
For nine years of carrying the loss of his best friend. The same guy with a soft, snow-like face and glistening eyes in my dreams. The same guy with his winter-like cold hands was holding tightly onto the bridge rail, leaning too far forward, where I had absentmindedly run to save him. The same man who made food that felt like a warm home with those same cold hands.
He never knew that the reckless guy who annoyed him was the same guy who saved him when he never wanted to live, just like now.
A sudden vibration in my jacket broke through the roaring in my ears, pulling me out of the spiral. With a trembling finger, I pulled my phone out, half expecting a flood of texts from Hosung or Ah-in. Instead, the glowing screen displayed a single message from Minjae, sent hours ago right after I had bailed on the office.
Park Minjae (team leader) – I saw your text. Are you alright? Take all the time you need today. Let me know if you want me to drop by later, hyung.
I stared at the text; it was the same as every other text, just with his orderly words of normal work-life feelings. I closed my eyes, letting a ragged, shuddering exhale escape my lips. Minjae didn't know either. How could he? His best friend's brother was saved in the past and now by the same person who just got to know some things that were kept buried in the name of protection.
I couldn't go back to my quiet apartment and pretend to sleep. I couldn't ignore this. I needed to see Joohwan. I needed to look him in the eyes, face to face, so maybe I could remember exactly who he was to me.
Pushing myself up from the stairs using the railing for support, I forced myself down. When I burst through the main exit of the building, the bright spring sun hit me with a blinding glare. The soft pastel pinks and whites of cheery blossoms drifted lazily across the sidewalk, completely unbothered.
****
JOOHWAN POV:
I woke up not knowing where I was.
That lasted approximately three seconds before the ceiling of my room came into focus, the water stain in the corner shaped like a bird, and the curtain Taekwang had put up three years ago that was slightly too short for the window. The smell of the house, old wood and my aunt's cooking – the same quiet morning that started without me in it.
I was tangled in my sheets, but I had absolutely no memory of getting into them. I lay still for a moment, my mouth tasting sourly of soju. When I turned my head, my jacket was folded over the desk chair, which meant someone had taken it off me, which meant I hadn't come home alone.
Han Sungmin.
I closed my eyes. Last night's fragments came back in: going to the bar, sitting at the usual spot, and recollecting the memories. Then Han Sungmin, appearing out of the night as my drunk brain had summoned, was sitting across from me without being invited and refusing to leave and pouring drinks with both hands as if I were his work senior.
I pressed the back of my hand against my eyes.
Out of all the places. Out of all the people.
I lay there until the ceiling stopped swimming slightly. Then sat up slowly, the blanket falling back, and noticed something on the desk beside the folded jacket. A glass of water and two painkillers were placed there sometimes while I was sleeping.
Taekwang.
Of course it will be him.
I stood up with my aching head and rolled my futon up and walked over to the sliding closet door, opened it, and placed the bedding neatly into the cupboard, ready to face whatever the rest of the day was going to throw at me.
I pulled myself out of my room and showered, letting the cold water shock my skin, washing away the lingering fog of the soju and yesterday's blurred memories.
After drying off and throwing on a fresh change of clothes. I walked down the staircase. The sound of a knife hitting a wooden cutting board echoed from the kitchen. The living room is quiet, just like it always was. I walked into the kitchen expecting my aunt.
"Oh, Joohwan-ah, you are up; come here, come here," said my uncle with his smile, which Taekwang had inherited.
"Where is Sukmo?" I asked, stepping into the kitchen.
"Ah, your aunt went out picking up a few things from the market," my uncle said, not looking up from the cutting board as the knife hit the wood. "She wanted to get the fresh greens before the midday rush. Sit down; I'm just about done with the soup."
"I'm not really hungry, Samchon," I murmured, rubbing the dull throb behind my eyes.
"Nonsense. Taekwang said you stumbled in late; when you drink like that, you need something warm to anchor your stomach," he chided gently, pointing the tip of the knife toward the small wooden table. "Sit."
I slowly pulled out a chair and sat down, my eyes fixed on the grain of the wood. The quiet house was always as cold, carrying a strange pressure. I waited until he slid a steaming bowl of haejangguk in front of me before I forced my voice to stay level.
"Samchon…Did Taekwang mention who brought me back last night?"
My uncle passed, setting the knife down and resting his hands on the edge of the counter. A slight frown of confusion pinched his brow. "Taekwang? No, he didn't say anything about someone bringing you home. He just said you were asleep when he got up to check the living room. Why? Did someone call you back?"
My fingers curled tightly against my lap beneath the table.
So he didn't tell them.
"No," I lied quietly, looking down at the red broth of the soup. "I just…I couldn't remember the walk back very well. It's fine."
My uncle sighed, "Joohwan-ah, you should give up on being like this. Even if your father had allowed you to be with Yoonsuh, would it change the fact he didn't want to live a life? I know Hyeong should have at least let you, but it happened so-
"Will you say the same to your brother?" I cut off my uncle. "You can't be tight?"
My uncle looked frozen. The small kitchen fell into terrifying, suffocating silence.
"Joohwan-ah," he started, his voice dropping into that low, careful warning he used only when a conversation was edging too close to a cliff.
"You can't say the same to him, Samchon," I pressed, my voice flat, cracking under the sudden weight of a decade's worth of built-up anger. I stood up from the chair. "I'm going to the restaurant," I murmured, my voice barely a whisper.
"Hwan-ah, at least e—"
I didn't let him finish the sentence. I grabbed my keys from the entryway rack, ignoring my uncle calling out my name, and stepped out of the house. The heavy wooden front door clicked shut behind me, sealing the suffocating walls behind.
The soft breeze hit me, pushing my hair back, carrying white cherry petals swirling in the wind. I looked up at the sky; the sun in it was very clear and shining bright. I sighed, looking down at my feet.
So the spring was here again. I thought before looking ahead and walked to the restaurant.
I walked down the path towards the restaurant compound, the spring sunlight hitting me like a glare that only made my dull throbbing behind my temples grow worse. As I reached the front to open, picking up the keys, I felt someone staring at me.
My finger froze for a second, but I didn't look back; who would even care? It's already time for lunch. People walked around, so I didn't care about that and unlocked the door. The bell chimed like a usual welcome that had been tired of hanging there and welcoming people whenever they opened the door.
I walked straight into the kitchen and tied my apron around my waist. For now, my mind needed something that could distract it from spinning out of control. I filled a large stainless steel bowl with fresh water and plunged my hands inside to begin washing the morning greens.
The water was biting, winter-like cold, against my skin. My fingers instantly went numb, turning faint red. I stared down into the bowl, freezing mid-motion, with my cold hands. For a split second, a bizarre, violent sensation ripped through my temples – not the one after alcohol but something more. It felt like the roar of a speeding engine, a crushing shove, and the terrifying feeling of falling backward onto something like stone while a pair of hands refused to let go of the jacket stubbornly.
I blinked fast, the silent kitchen snapping back into focus. I pulled my hands out of the water, rubbing my numb knuckles together as a cold sweat broke out across my neck. I'm just exhausted, just like every day. I told myself, pressing the heels of my palms against my throbbing temples. It's just a bad hangover from last night. Han Sungmin just got into my head.
"Ah, you are already here, Joohwan-ah; I thought you'd be at home still sleeping," my aunt's voice said from behind.
I glanced over my shoulder once before looking down into the green under the water, leaning down on my back and washing it again. I'm not ready for another conversation that again starts from some random point to back the offer or is about me, so I stayed quiet.
"Have you eaten anything?" She asked, walking into the kitchen with the fresh greens she brought.
"Hm," I hummed in reply.
"That handsome guy came too early today. Have you talked to him?" She asked.
My hand froze when I was reaching for the bowl to place the washed greens. Handsome guy. Means Han Sungmin. My aunt has been calling him 'handsome guy' more than his name.
"Han Sungmin came here?" I asked, finally looking at my aunt.
She was organising the refrigerator. She turned her head and nodded. "I saw him while I was walking here. But funny, he didn't notice me."
I nodded my head, turning back to the bowl, placing the leaves in my hand into the bowl. Han Sungmin ignoring someone he knows? How strange? He would just bother me at the bar, and now he just walked away, not noticing my aunt.
Strange.