7C | Chapter 03.3

Manager Hwang arrived a little past 3 PM, an hour early. At the sound of his voice beyond the sliding door, Youngso looked briefly startled but soon rose quietly.

“Is this all your luggage?”

He pointed at the bag he’d packed earlier. Yoonjae was about to nod but froze when Youngso effortlessly lifted it.

“Why are you carrying my bag?”

“You’re the guest.”

He probably meant he’d carry it to the gate. Before Yoonjae could protest, Youngso slung the bag over his shoulder and pointed at the bracelet on the table.

“Put that on your wrist. Otherwise, you can’t leave.”

“…….”

Yoonjae didn’t really want to, but he went along anyway. As he slipped the beads onto his wrist as instructed, he snatched his bag back from Youngso’s hand.

“It’s heavy.”

Youngso hesitated but didn’t take it back. Packed with clothes and books, it had noticeable weight. Scanning the room for forgotten items, Yoonjae spotted the padded jacket hanging on the wall and grabbed it.

“I’ll leave this. You wear it.”

Draping it over Youngso’s thin frame, Yoonjae noticed his surprised blink. The oversized jacket made him look like a child playing dress-up, but it couldn’t be helped.

“Prayers require a clean face, not a frozen one. Wear it when you go out. Don’t catch a cold and suffer.”

“…….”

“And when you come to Seoul… Oh, right.”

Yoonjae took out a pen and notepad, scribbled his number on a torn sheet, and handed it over. Youngso accepted it blankly.

“Call me with this.”

“…….”

“Promise me.”

Youngso didn’t react. With nothing left to say, Yoonjae silently shouldered his bag and slid the door open.

Stepping into the yard, Youngso followed. The jacket was gone, back to his thin clothes. Yoonjae handed his bag to Manager Hwang and glanced at the servants’ quarters. A week here, yet the porch still felt foreign, bathed in golden autumn light.

“Leaving, guest?”

Miran’s familiar voice made him turn. She looked reluctant. Yoonjae bowed slightly with a smile.

“Yes. Thank you for everything.”

“Oh, no. We must have inconvenienced you… Oh, Manshin-nim is here too.”

Following her gaze, Yoonjae saw the hunched old woman leaning on her cane. Her gentle expression made her seem like an ordinary grandma, unlike the stern shaman he’d faced before. Yoonjae quickly bowed deeply.

“Hello…”

He trailed off, unsure what to call her. “Manshin-nim” felt too foreign. Instead, he offered a vague smile.

“Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Hmm.”

The old woman’s eyes flicked between Yoonjae’s face and wrist.

“Don’t remove that until this doctor sends word.”

It took a moment to realize “this doctor” meant his father. Yoonjae nodded, though the words barely registered.

His gaze shifted to the boy behind her. Youngso stood with hands clasped, eyes downcast, silent as ever.

“Well then…”

Yoonjae kept his eyes on the boy as he murmured,

“I’ll be going now.”

“Go on. The sun sets early in the mountains.”

“Take care, guest.”

While the old woman and Miran spoke, Youngso remained silent. Not even a hint of farewell. Yoonjae watched his face until the last moment as he stepped back, but their eyes never met.

“…….”

Following Manager Hwang past the gate, Yoonjae bowed once more. Miran waved with a smile, and the shaman gestured for him to go. Youngso stayed perfectly still, head bowed.

“Young master, we should go.”

Noticing his hesitation, Manager Hwang urged him. Yoonjae finally stepped past the gate. The damp outside air clung to his cheeks. It was an eerie sensation.

“…….”

It wasn’t quite a premonition, more like a vague unease. One stark question flashed through his mind: Is it really okay to leave like this? To leave that quiet, ruthless boy alone behind this gate?

“Young master?”

Manager Hwang paused ahead, looking back. Staring at the gatehouse, Yoonjae racked his brain. Going back wouldn’t solve anything. Nothing would change immediately. But…

“…I forgot the jacket. Just a second.”

Mumbling, he left Manager Hwang and retraced his steps. With each step, his scattered thoughts sharpened. I can’t drag him out now. But if I at least say he needs a hospital, maybe they’ll be more careful. Maybe they’ll realize what they’re doing is wrong. Then…

“Jun-ah.”

What stopped his determined steps was a voice so gentle and warm it felt almost damp. As soon as he crossed back over the gatehouse, Yoonjae froze in place and turned toward the voice.

“Jun-ah, Jun-ah…”

The old woman and Youngso sat side by side on the porch. The boy hugged her from behind, face buried in her shoulder. His thin back shook visibly. She patted his back gently, whispering tenderly.

“Saege musang, hoepil yuri. All life is transient; meetings inevitably end in partings. Such is life, fleeting and impermanent, and where there is meeting, parting must follow.”

“…….”

“But the reverse is also true. If there’s parting, there will also be meeting. So don’t waste your energy crying over it.”

Her words might have sounded heartless, but the hands and voice soothing her young great-grandson were full of tender warmth. Yoonjae stood stunned, mouth slightly open at the sight. After a moment, Youngso lifted his head with a sniffle, taking in a damp breath.

“What if… he doesn’t come back?”

His round face was flushed red and soaked. Sniff, sniff. Every time he whimpered faintly, teardrops like beads welled up from his tightly shut eyes. The shaman gave a soft “Aigo,” and hugged him even tighter.

“Oh dear, I didn’t realize I’d let you grow so attached.”

“…….”

“You could still catch up if you go now. Want to say goodbye properly?”

She pulled him back to ask. Youngso hiccupped before shaking his head.

“No… I’m sorry for the unsightly display.”

Even as he said it, the tears were still streaming down his face like chicken droppings. When he pressed his lips tight, little walnut-like wrinkles formed on his chin. Only after wiping his face again and again did he finally stop crying. He let out a short sigh.

“I’m okay now. I’ll tidy up the room and—”

Their eyes met then. His damp eyes, wide and fragile, blinked rapidly. The old woman turned, equally startled. Yoonjae, caught off guard, opened his mouth silently and swallowed hard.

“Dongja—”

At that moment, Youngso suddenly sprang up and ran. He dashed across the yard like a shot, threw open the inner gate, and darted into the servants’ quarters. …What? Yoonjae stood there dumbfounded for a beat, then shook himself and started walking. He followed the trail of the boy’s footprints and couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Seriously…”

When he crossed the inner gate, the side gate across the yard was swinging open. Where did he think he was escaping to in a house completely enclosed on all sides? Yoonjae widened his stride and easily caught up. Ducking through the side gate, he spotted Youngso flustered near the well, clearly at a loss.

“Dongja-nim.”

At the call, Youngso whirled around, startled. His face was beet red. Yoonjae finally burst out laughing.

“Where are you running so desperately?”

The teasing question made Youngso hiccup. His eyes swam with confusion. Is this really the same kid who delivered brutal truths with a stone face all week? Amused, Yoonjae grinned and stepped closer.

“Answer me. There’s no way out there.”

“…….”

“Come on, say something. Why’d you go all mute all of a sudden?”

Another step. Youngso retreated warily, lips sealed. Planning to keep this up? Yoonjae considered his options before quirking a smirk.

“Jun-ah?”

Youngso’s breath hitched. Disbelieving, he blinked rapidly before hiccupping again.

“D-don’t call me that.”

The voice he barely managed to squeeze out trembled faintly. Yoonjae shrugged once and muttered shamelessly:

“Then you should’ve answered sooner.”

“…….”

“Come here. I need to talk to you.”

“No.”

Youngso refused bluntly and hid behind the well. Yoonjae let out a disbelieving laugh, then trudged over and rested his hands on the well’s edge. Leaning forward, he saw the boy crouched below, head bowed deeply. His already slender frame was curled into a tight ball, making him look especially small and round.

“Dongja-nim.”

Yoonjae knelt beside him. Youngso flinched, his fingers tensing, but he didn’t run away again.

“Are you mad?”

“…No. I was never mad.”

“Then why won’t you look at me? I said I wanted to talk.”

Only then did Youngso peek up, his cheeks still flushed. When their eyes finally met, his were nearly dry, just a little damp. What a shame. Yoonjae propped his chin on one hand and grinned.

“Why were you crying? Did you feel sad because I’m leaving?”

He half-expected the teasing question to provoke anger or another pout. But Youngso just lowered his gaze, mulling it over, before answering plainly.

“Yeah… I was sad.”

The admission was so straightforward that Yoonjae almost wondered if he was being mocked. Still smiling, he tilted his head further.

“What was so sad about it? Were you afraid we’d never see each other again?”

“……”

“I told you to come visit. Did you think I didn’t mean it?”

“I can’t go…”

“Why not?”

“I’ve never gone that far alone.”

Youngso jutted out his lower lip. Finally, Yoonjae thought he understood why this complicated Dongja-nim had burst into tears. He must’ve assumed that once Yoonjae left, he’d never return. And yet, he wouldn’t dare make the trip to Seoul alone, either. All the while, Yoonjae had been carelessly telling him to call or visit, oblivious to the frustration building inside him until it overflowed.

“Dongja-nim.”

He called softly, but Youngso just pressed his lips together and stayed silent. Yoonjae hesitated, then deliberately let his voice turn teasing.

“Jun-ah.”

“—I told you not to call me that. Why do you keep using my childhood name?”

Youngso finally snapped, his expression genuinely baffled. Yoonjae raised an eyebrow as if to ask, What’s the problem?

“You’re the one who said we’re still kids. What’s wrong with kids using each other’s childhood names?”

“…That’s—”

“Or you could call me ‘Yoon,’ like my grandma does.”

“That’s ridiculous…”

The boy muttered, deflated. His eyes were still puffy and red from crying, and the skin around them was irritated. Without thinking, Yoonjae reached out and murmured,

“I’ll come see you.”

Startled, Youngso lifted his head, and Yoonjae’s fingertips brushed against his warm cheek. His damp lashes grazed Yoonjae’s knuckles, and his unusually high body heat seeped into his skin.

“When my father has business here again, I’ll come with him. I can’t visit every time, but…”

“……”

“Honestly, you surprised me. We’re both in the same tiny country. What’s so sad about being apart for a little while that you’d cry like the world ended?”

His hand naturally traveled upward, ruffling Youngso’s hair. The dark, silky strands tickled his fingers as Youngso stayed silent, staring up at him with the awed expression of a child receiving cake for the first time.

“Really?”

“Hm?”

“You’ll really come back?”

The guileless question gave Yoonjae pause. Did I make him greedy? He wavered under those shining eyes, but only for a moment.

“Really. I’ll come back.”

“……”

“Then you won’t cry anymore?”

“Yeah.”

Youngso nodded, lowering his head. Then, abruptly, he reached out and grabbed Yoonjae’s wrist. Just as Yoonjae registered the cool, soft touch of his palm, a wooden prayer bracelet slipped between their skin with a soft clack.

“Don’t ever take this off your body.”

The tears were gone, replaced by that same detached, serene gaze. The warning, delivered in a firm tone, made Yoonjae smile faintly as he remained silent.

“Only then can we meet again.”

He was still eerily good at saying unsettling things without hesitation. Where had the little boy who’d been crying with his whole face scrunched up gone? Yoonjae licked his dry lips and answered half-heartedly.

“Sure.”

If he had to pick one version of Youngso, this one was far more interesting.

“I’ll keep it on all the time.”

Only after the reassurance did Youngso finally look relieved. Yoonjae ruffled his hair once more before standing.

“Call me if you’re bored. You can make phone calls by yourself, right?”

“…Phone.”

“Yeah, phone. You’re good at turning the dial and everything.”

He mimed spinning a rotary dial with his finger, and Youngso nodded seriously, oblivious to the teasing. Is this what having a younger sibling feels like? Yoonjae chuckled and took a step back.

“I’ll get going now. They said I should leave before sunset.”

“…Okay.”

“Thanks for everything, Dongja-nim.”

Youngso nodded again, bracing himself against the well as he stood. Yoonjae walked away, the boy trailing behind him until they passed the servants’ quarters and reached the gate. When he glanced back, Youngso had stopped just before the threshold, giving a small wave. His puffy face was so comical that Yoonjae burst into laughter, earning a puzzled look from Manager Hwang.

“You two got close, I see.”

Only when they were far enough that Youngso wouldn’t hear did he finally speak up. Yoonjae shrugged, smiling.

“Well, we spent a whole week together.”

“That’s a relief. I was worried you’d have a hard time in such an unfamiliar place.”

“Not at all. It was actually pretty nice. Oh, before I forget—”

As the road curved, the Ryu Gwan residence vanished without a trace. The deep mountains were already preparing for nightfall. Without hesitation, Yoonjae slid the prayer bracelet off his wrist and handed it to Manager Hwang.

“What’s this?”

“A souvenir? Just toss it somewhere discreet. Don’t let my parents know.”

“Ah, got it.”

Manager Hwang tucked the bracelet into his jacket pocket. Yoonjae stuffed his now-free hand into his own pocket and trudged onward.

What a strange place.

He stole a glance back toward the old house, repeating the thought silently. He’d had all sorts of bizarre experiences, but now, none of it mattered. It wasn’t like he’d ever go back there again.