Chapter 10

“Go ahead.”

Jaekani carefully grasped the stem of the trimmed flowers and held them close to his chest.

A moment ago, he hadn’t wanted to see Huikyung. But now, holding the flowers, he found himself wanting to visit him.

“…That, I… that….”

The most effective apology is action. Jaekani didn’t want to give meaningless words to his father, filled with self-pity or sympathy. His father was a wretched man, and Jaekani didn’t expect him to change.

Everyone, including the kids at school and those who knew about their household, assumed that Jaekani must fear his father. But the truth was, Jaekani wasn’t afraid of him at all. When his father raised his hand, Jaekani didn’t block or resist; he simply closed his eyes and braced himself.

To Jaekani, this was the price he paid for being taken in by a man who wasn’t his blood but had chosen to call himself his father.

Even though Jaebadi never openly admitted it, Jaekani had long known that they weren’t related. Anyone with ears would’ve figured it out eventually. The rumors had often been shared over drinks or gossip among children, and eventually, they had reached him. Still, Jaekani didn’t mind. Jaebadi still called him “my son,” even in his slurred, drunken voice, and that was enough.

“Don’t say anything.”

Clutching the wildflowers, Jaekani rummaged through his wardrobe. He needed to change his clothes—he had somewhere to be.

Since his father had surprisingly decided to go to the slaughterhouse today, Jaekani had a rare opportunity to enjoy some freedom. Usually, having nothing to do made him anxious, but the task of visiting Huikyung gave him a sense of purpose, leaving no room for guilt over idleness.

Running with the flowers in hand, Jaekani slowed as the eerie silhouette of the abandoned building came into view.

‘Did we fight?’

He’d left the place sulking yesterday, and now, showing up like this felt awkward.

‘It’s fine now, but should I pretend to still be mad about yesterday?’

Even though he had forgiven Huikyung, the comments about the village still didn’t sit well. A father who was an addict and a son too small to contribute much—what other community would accept them as members? He had grown up hearing this and had begun to believe it was true.

Dragging his feet closer, something caught Jaekani’s attention.

Something thin and pointy jutted out like a fishing rod, dangling a pale green object just beyond the basement opening as if it were bait.

Curious, Jaekani quickened his pace.

Once he got close enough, he recognized it—a foxtail grass carefully twisted into the shape of a small rabbit and coiled into a ring.

It must have been made by Huikyung, likely with a foxtail grass that had fallen or been picked nearby.

When it swayed lightly in the breeze, it really did resemble a fishing rod, making Jaekani smile faintly. As the quiet laughter escaped his lips, Huikyung offered a playful greeting.

“Jae~kani~.”

“…Did you make this rabbit out of foxtail grass?”

The foxtail grass bobbed up and down, nodding in affirmation.

“A rabbit ring.”

The soft foxtail grass, shaped into a ring, tickled as Jaekani carefully slipped it onto his finger.

“It’s itchy,” Jaekani murmured, studying the little ring on his finger.

“Why did you make this?”

“The sandwich was good. It’s a thank-you gift.”

“Rings are for marriage proposals, you know.”

“Oh? Have we already reached that stage? How bold of you, Jaekani.”

Even as he teased, Huikyung’s mischievous smile betrayed his amusement. When Jaekani scoffed, Huikyung grinned wider, his cheeks carrying a hint of mischief.

“Alright then, I’ll wait thirty years. Let’s get married.”

“Thirty years? Who said I’d marry you?”

“This is the first time I’ve been rejected,” Huikyung said, feigning shock and clutching his chest dramatically. “I’ve never been turned down before. Not once in my life.”

Even as Jaekani toyed with the rabbit ring, twisting it this way and that, Huikyung continued his exaggerated lament about his supposed popularity.

“Then should I have a son and let you marry him instead?”

‘A son? Not a daughter?’

As usual, Huikyung’s words were a mix of lies and jokes.

“No way,” Jaekani firmly declined.

“Why not? He’d be good-looking like me.”

When Huikyung pretended to be genuinely offended, Jaekani chuckled. The playful tone in Huikyung’s voice made his chest feel warm and light. Feeling bashful, Jaekani handed over the flowers he’d brought.

It felt like reciprocating the gift of the ring, which made him self-conscious, but he couldn’t just keep the flowers after bringing them all this way.

“They’re pretty. Where did you pick them?”

“I didn’t. They were given to me.”

“Really?”

“By my father.”

Huikyung started to say something about Jaebadi being a good person for giving flowers but stopped midway. The soft expression he’d worn since handing over the rabbit ring vanished, and his green eyes darkened.

“Is this compensation? That’s amusing.”

If Jaebadi had been nothing but a hateful man, Jaekani might have run away long ago.

The affection he felt for Jaebadi was like a swamp. He knew it would slowly pull him under and suffocate him, yet the fleeting warmth it provided made it hard to let go. So, Jaekani had learned to coexist with the swamp—always pulling his feet out before it could claim him entirely.

“…Doesn’t being locked up here make you miserable?”

He didn’t know why he asked, but the question came out in a flat tone.

Jaekani’s blue eyes wandered over Huikyung’s throat, where his Adam’s apple cast a shadow, to his broad shoulders and muscular arms, their contours defined in the dim light.

‘Of course he’s miserable. He must hate it,’ Jaekani thought, expecting a negative response. But Huikyung said nothing.

Lowering his head, Jaekani dragged the toe of his shoe through the dirt, leaving long lines behind.

“…Don’t you want to get out?”

Though silence was something Jaekani was accustomed to, this particular silence was unsettling and uncomfortable, compelling him to keep asking questions. He avoided making eye contact with Huikyung, who he knew was staring at him.

“Isn’t that how you feel?”

“Why.”

The low voice hit him like a ball being thrown.

“If I got out, would your life improve somehow?”

“…That’s not what I meant.”

“Would you feel less lonely, Jaekani?”

“I told you, that’s not it.”

“Do you think I’d be able to protect you?”

“…No.”

The moment was unbearably agonizing. Jaekani stood up.

How had Huikyung known about the thoughts that he himself barely recognized? The moments when he imagined finishing his chores and coming to see Huikyung were a mystery even to him.

He felt ashamed for picturing what it would feel like to have Huikyung ruffle his hair with a laugh, pat him lightly on the shoulder, or praise him for helping out. He felt naked, exposed.

“I should… I should go.”

“…Jaekani.”

“I’ll come back again. I might be busy with work, so I can’t come often, but….”

“Jaekani.”

With a face on the verge of tears, Jaekani fled.

Even as he ran far away, Huikyung’s voice coiled in his ears, as if it were echoing his name.

Panting, Jaekani leaned against a wall.

Sweat poured down his face, his neck burning. Like raindrops running down a windowpane, he slid down the wall and drew his knees up. He buried his face between them, trembling.

He was mortified. The thought of seeing Huikyung again felt impossible.

* * *

“Hey, Jaekani. What’s with your face? Didn’t get enough sleep or something?”

Jaebadi grumbled throughout breakfast.

Was he worried about his young son, or was he just irritated by how lifeless Jaekani looked?

Caught between the two possibilities, Jaekani decided to stop thinking about it. ‘Am I really this twisted?’ he wondered briefly before letting the thought go. Besides, Jaebadi wasn’t wrong—Jaekani really hadn’t been sleeping well.

Even though it had been four days since he’d last gone to the abandoned building, the habit of staying up late seemed to have seeped into his body. Sleep eluded him.

Without sleep, his mind became crowded with endless, troubling thoughts.

“Is something bothering you?”

“No.”

Even his usually indifferent father asking about his state made Jaekani realize just how disheveled he must have looked. He smirked bitterly.

‘Must be awful to look at.’

After finishing his meal, Jaekani went to the window. Staring at his reflection in the empty glass, he quickly turned away.

It had already been four days since he had sulked like a child and stopped going to see Huikyung. Yet, Huikyung’s voice—once heard—refused to fade, resurfacing to drag him back into his thoughts.

‘Jaekani!’

He glanced around, but there was no one there except his father, eating his oatmeal.

‘Is this what phantom pain feels like?’ Jaekani wondered.

* * *

After his morning classes ended, Jaekani returned home. He wished the classes were longer—two hours wasn’t enough, and he often found himself wanting more.

As usual, the house was empty. If there was a silver lining to the situation, it was that his father had finally started going to the slaughterhouse again, as if suddenly remembering his long-neglected responsibilities.

Following his routine, Jaekani began the housework he’d planned for the day. Pausing to glance at his reflection in the window, his eyes lingered on the faint bruises still visible on his cheek.

When the wounds healed, so would his father’s guilt. Then Jaebadi would once again find an excuse to drown himself in whatever substance he could find.

‘But as long as I don’t have to deal with the slaughterhouse until then, I’ll be satisfied.’

Jaekani scrubbed and cleaned with determination, trying to wipe away not just the dirt but also the weight of his thoughts.