Chapter 17

The jangling keys slipped back into Jaekani’s pocket as he rested his forehead cautiously against the iron bars.

“…I’m heading back.”

“Already? You’re not going to tell me about Lucas today?”

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Jaekani rolled his eyes.

“Why would I talk about that jerk?”

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Lucas, who had been in the same class as Jaekani, was now fifteen and had recently gone on his first patrol after reaching adulthood.

“I need to know about him since he bullies you.”

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“And what would you do with that information?”

“I’d teach him a lesson once I’m out of here.”

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“…”

Every time Huikyung casually talked about life after his escape, Jaekani’s feelings became complicated. It wasn’t like Huikyung seemed particularly determined to escape in the first place.

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“…You don’t need to fight my battles for me.”

Jaekani meant it.

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He didn’t want Huikyung to waste his freedom fighting for him. Instead, he hoped Huikyung would live freely, as he always should have, without interference from someone like him.

“Got it,” Huikyung replied simply.

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From experience, Jaekani could tell what would come next—a casual wave of Huikyung’s hand, paired with a lighthearted goodbye: ‘Sleep well, Jaekani.’ He would say it without any lingering attachment, as if everything were perfectly fine.

“Stop asking me all the questions. Tell me something about yourself for a change.”

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Jaekani’s eyes flicked upward, studying him. He had always been curious about Huikyung. Though the man wasn’t extraordinary in a flashy way, perhaps the fact that he kept so much to himself only made Jaekani more eager to know. Would he be this restless if Huikyung were the type to chatter endlessly about his life?

“What do you want to know?”

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Jaekani sat cross-legged in front of the bars, propping his chin on his hands. He had plenty of questions.

“What was your life like before you were locked up here? Where did you live? Do you have a wife? Kids?”

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“A wife? Kids?”

For a moment, Huikyung felt a pang of dismay. Did he look that old? Then he remembered—being trapped in this shabby slaughterhouse prison for so long couldn’t have done wonders for his appearance.

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“No, none of that. I don’t even have a girlfriend.”

Jaekani’s eyes scanned Huikyung up and down. Though he looked tired now, Jaekani thought that once he was cleaned up, with his hair trimmed and wearing decent clothes, Huikyung could easily be the most handsome man in the village. Even the dark circles under his almond-shaped eyes couldn’t diminish the striking impression his features left.

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“And you? No boyfriend? Not even a girlfriend?”

Jaekani frowned faintly, unsure if the question was a teasing jab or just casual curiosity.

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“No.”

“You’re this pretty, and no one’s interested?”

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“Pretty?”

The word made Jaekani gag in disgust, scrunching his nose like a child, earning a small laugh from Huikyung.

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“How many girlfriends have you had so far?”

“Hm… I’ve never counted.”

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‘You’d have to ‘count’ them?!’

The sheer idea felt outrageous.

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Recalling the flower ring Huikyung had once given him, Jaekani wondered just how many of those useless floral trinkets Huikyung must have handed out. The dried petals, still tucked between the pages of a book, now felt more cumbersome than ever. Even trapped in this underground cell, Huikyung seemed so frivolous—Jaekani had no doubt that if he were freed, he’d be as weightless as a plastic bag caught in the wind.

“I proposed, and now you’re digging into my past?” Huikyung said, his lips curving into a playful smirk.

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Jaekani remained impassive, merely rolling his eyes. Even in this situation, Huikyung could still crack jokes.

“I’m not pure, but at least I pride myself on being honest,” Huikyung added.

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“What kind of brag is that? I’d rather you be a lying virgin.”

Jaekani shrugged with mock indifference.

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“You really don’t get it, do you? Even if someone’s a mess, being honest is what matters most.”

“A mess? ‘You’ were a mess?!”

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“…That was a slip of the tongue.”

A brief silence followed before Huikyung added another comment, but Jaekani, sensing he had caught him in a slip, smirked slyly.

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“Disgusting.”

“That’s harsh.”

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Gripping the bars lightly, Huikyung feigned a whine. Jaekani couldn’t help but laugh quietly. Being around Huikyung often had that effect on him. Even though the fifty-ninth key had failed, laughter seemed to come easily when they were together. Seizing the rare opportunity to take the upper hand in their banter, Jaekani didn’t hold back.

Throwing out words like “promiscuous” and “unprincipled,” Jaekani enjoyed watching Huikyung groan and cover his ears with his hands.

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“Aren’t you leaving? Isn’t it bedtime?”

“Are you crying?”

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“I’m not crying.”

“Don’t cry. The mop water will start dripping.”

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“You little…”

Huikyung sighed, feeling unfairly targeted. But Jaekani’s youthful laughter wasn’t unwelcome, and laughter, as it turned out, was contagious. They both ended up grinning like fools for a while.

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It was only when the candle suddenly went out that Jaekani shifted his focus.

“Oh.”

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Feeling around in the dark, he discovered the worn-down remains of the candle. Time had flown by. Jaekani stood up and started brushing away the messy traces of wax as best as he could.

It was disappointing, but it was late, and he had to leave.

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“I’ll be going now. Take care,” Jaekani said.

Huikyung responded with a bright smile, waving casually. On his fingers, a flower ring Jaekani had returned earlier swayed slightly. Jaekani glanced at his own empty hand.

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He remembered the flower Huikyung had given him yesterday, how cool the leaves had felt against his skin, and how the dried petals had startled him when they spilled out of his textbook.

Every time Huikyung slipped a flower ring onto his finger, he would playfully say, “I accept your proposal.”

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Even though it was the same joke every time, Jaekani couldn’t help but smile.

‘I’ve always had this romantic notion of marriage,’ Huikyung had once said.

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‘It’s a lifelong partnership, isn’t it?’

Though he never shared anything truly important, Huikyung had no problem waxing poetic about how much he valued marriage and its sacred vows.

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For someone who didn’t seem like a talkative person by nature, the ease with which he explained things was oddly endearing.

Jaekani licked his lips, reluctant to leave, but he finally turned and walked away.

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‘Are we friends?’ he wondered.

Yes, of course. They were friends now. Jaekani was sure of it, more than ever before.

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The word “friend” carried a warmth he liked.

Unlike the way he had run to the facility earlier, his steps were slow as he made his way home. The oppressive shadow of the building faded behind him, and the pitch-black darkness around him felt strangely less daunting.

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Thinking about home, Jaekani sighed.

An absent father filling the void with vices, suffocating classes, uncommunicative villagers, and Huikyung, who revealed nothing easily—it all weighed on him.

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When he reached his door, he sighed again, a habit that had become second nature.

‘I don’t want to go back,’ he thought.

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The reality of returning to his stifling house, where he had to live through shallow breaths, was overwhelming.

Then he thought of Huikyung and allowed himself a small smile.

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He no longer knew if the faraway facility or his own house felt more like home.

Every time he reached “home,” Jaekani would realize how comforting the underground prison felt by comparison.

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All fifty-nine keys had failed. By all accounts, his painstaking efforts seemed meaningless.

When the final key didn’t work, Jaekani was devastated. If it hadn’t meant causing Huikyung pain, he would have kicked the iron door in frustration.

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Standing in front of his house, Jaekani glanced back.

Somehow, the despair he felt earlier already seemed like a distant memory.

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Because of Huikyung.

He had wanted to vent his frustration, but Huikyung’s silly comments had distracted him with thoughts of flower rings and mock proposals. Somehow, in the midst of it all, his anger had dissipated.

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Now, even lingering on those feelings before bed seemed pointless. The thought amused him, and Jaekani found himself feeling oddly optimistic.

If fifty-nine keys didn’t work, he would try the sixtieth.

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A spark of hope flickered in his heart.

Shaking off his disappointment, Jaekani opened the door, determined to sleep well and try again tomorrow.

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But the moment the door opened, his fragile hope began to crumble.

The stench of alcohol hit him, and he dropped his head. Dirty, worn shoes came into view. His sneakers, which had represented his hard work, now looked shabby and worthless.

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“…Father.”

“Jaek… Jaekani,” Jaebad slurred, barely coherent.

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His father, eyes bloodshot, was slumped in a chair in the middle of the living room. He wasn’t quite sitting or lying down, just sprawled awkwardly.

Jaebad’s lethargy wasn’t typical drunkenness—it was eerily sluggish and quiet. He had likely taken something alongside the alcohol.

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Sighing, Jaekani approached him. Kneeling on one knee, he focused on untying the laces of Jaebad’s half-loosened shoes. Even as he concentrated on the task, his father mumbled incoherently and shook his head.

Life was unfair, Jaekani thought. Did everyone live like this? Or was it just him? Why did he have to bear the brunt of it all?

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Surely, others were sleeping peacefully right now.

 

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