PEN Vol 5 Ch. 2

Sejin, silently weeping, finally stood up after a long time. He was going to leave the apartment and look for Cheon Sejoo. He went to Cheon Sejoo’s room, put on one of his coats, and came out.

However, as he grabbed his phone from the sofa and headed for the door, his foot bumped against something. He looked down and saw the box he had placed next to the table. His face hardened.

It was the box containing his mother’s belongings from the hospital. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to touch it while cleaning the apartment, only moving it to a different spot. Now, his foot had dislodged it, and a document envelope was sticking out.

He saw the words “Shinsa Capital” printed on the yellow envelope. Realizing it was the loan document that had pushed his mother into Ehwagak, Sejin reached out as if in a trance. The questions that had been vaguely swirling in his mind now intensified, and he tore open the seal.

The document was quite thick, consisting of several pages. The topmost page was the loan agreement, with Kwon Yongbeom listing Kim Hyunkyung’s name as the guarantor. Seeing Kwon Yongbeom’s name on the front, Sejin gritted his teeth and swallowed his rising anger. He didn’t want to even see a trace of the man he wouldn’t hesitate to tear into shreds.

Past the loan terms written in minuscule print was the signature section. Kwon Yongbeom had stamped his fingerprint, and Kim Hyunkyung’s stolen seal was stamped in the guarantor section.

The address on the document wasn’t the one where they lived. Kwon Yongbeom had used a different address, anticipating that Kim Hyunkyung would find out about the loan. He had also secretly returned the seal to its place after using it, so she hadn’t known about the loan until the due date passed and the seizure began.

Feeling his blood run cold, Sejin tore the loan agreement to shreds. The remaining debt was no longer his concern.

The next document behind it was the repayment history. Sejin examined the contents with a cold expression.

Kim Hyunkyung’s salary details and repayment records from the month she entered Ehwagak were neatly organized in a table. It seemed the promise that she could save money while working there was true, as a portion of her salary was being deducted for a retirement savings plan.

It was proof that Kim Hyunkyung had been alive, that she had been enduring and working hard more than anyone. Sejin swallowed his rising emotions and scanned the records. Then, he suddenly noticed something amiss and frowned.

There were no other deductions from Kim Hyunkyung’s salary. The money Sejin had spent using Cheon Sejoo’s card to buy clothes and for transportation before he started receiving his allowance from Cheon Sejoo in the fall of the year before last hadn’t been charged. Cheon Sejoo had clearly said he would charge his mother for it…

Sejin wondered if it had been added to the loan amount and tried to piece together the torn document to compare the figures. However, there was no increase in either the principal or the interest. It simply hadn’t been charged at all.

He could easily guess what that meant. With trembling hands, Sejin slowly flipped through the pages. His eyes widened as he examined the records of the past ten months he hadn’t known about. Kim Hyunkyung’s salary was consistently the same, and the expenses were similar. Principal repayment, interest repayment, four major social insurances, retirement savings. And… full repayment.

Staring down at those words, Sejin blinked blankly, unable to process their meaning. Full loan repayment, full interest repayment, early repayment fee. All three entries were dated on the same day. Realizing it was in August, the day his mother collapsed, Sejin bit his lip.

Kim Hyunkyung’s medical expenses had been settled several times during her treatment, but that was after she was hospitalized in August. Sejin had been told that those medical and hospitalization expenses were covered by Ehwagak.

But if the “full loan repayment” was true, it meant Kim Hyunkyung wouldn’t have been an Ehwagak employee after the day she collapsed, so it didn’t make sense that they would have covered her hospital bills. Even Sejin, naive as he was, knew that no company would pay the medical expenses of a former employee.

Something was wrong. This didn’t make sense.

Suddenly, a face flashed before Sejin’s eyes. He turned around, clutching the documents in his hand. He needed confirmation. He picked up his phone from the island counter and dialed the number at the bottom of the document.

After a few rings, the other person answered. 

-Hello, this is the Shinsa Capital Repayment Support Team. How can I help you? 

Sejin spoke in a trembling voice at the mechanical greeting.

“I… I’d like to ask something.”

-Yes, please go ahead.

“My mother… had a debt here, and it was… paid off by someone.”

-I’m sorry? Are you saying you repaid it? 

The employee didn’t understand Sejin’s question and asked again. Even Sejin couldn’t understand what was going on, so he stammered as he explained the situation.

“No. On the repayment history statement… it says the loan was fully repaid… but I think there’s been a mistake…”

-Hmm… Could you tell me the borrower’s name and date of birth? I’ll check for you.

“My mother wasn’t the borrower, she was the guarantor…”

-Okay, okay, one moment. Then please tell me the guarantor’s name.

Sejin haltingly gave Kim Hyunkyung’s name and date of birth. The employee muttered something about it being unlikely but that they would check, then put him on hold.

Click, click. 

The sound of keyboard typing came from the other end. Sejin waited, frozen in place. After a moment, the employee spoke in a bright voice.

-Ah, yes, I see. It wasn’t paid under Kim Hyunkyung’s name, but it was fully repaid in August under the name of Cheon Sejoo. …You know him, right? Just in case it was deposited into the wrong account.

Hearing that name, Sejin’s mind went blank. He froze, holding the phone in his hand.

Cheon Sejoo, why? Why you…? 

A burning heat spread through his chest. He couldn’t define his emotions. He simply stared blankly ahead, speechless with disbelief.

The employee called out to him repeatedly. 

-Hello? Hello? Sir? 

After several attempts, the employee sighed, assuming the call had dropped, and was about to hang up when Sejin finally spoke.

“…Then, perhaps…”

-Yes, is there anything else you’d like to ask?

“After my mother incurred the debt, she worked at Ihwagak… do they… cover hospital bills for former employees?”

He knew it was unlikely, but he asked anyway. The employee hesitated. 

-I’m not sure about that… 

The employee trailed off, and put him on hold again, asking someone a question. He could hear a muffled conversation. Then the employee came back on the line. 

-No, they said there’s no such policy. Anything else?

The employee’s clear voice confirmed Sejin’s suspicions.

The phone slipped from his hand. The lifeless device clattered to the floor.

His heart pounded. Heat flushed his skin, and his eyes burned. The realization that he had only ever taken from Cheon Sejoo, from the very beginning, struck him deeply. He had realized it far too late.

Cheon Sejoo’s cold voice echoed in his mind.

“How dare you call me ‘that kind of person,’ assuming I’d do something to your mother?”

What had he thought of Cheon Sejoo when he heard those words? He had thought him the worst piece of trash. But now, looking back, he realized Cheon Sejoo had never once acted for his own benefit.

Scolding him harshly, bringing up his mother, practically dragging him home when he’d threatened to sleep on the streets, forcing him to buy clothes saying he’d charge him for them, giving him money, and tutoring him when he tried to get a part-time job, calling him a housekeeper… all of it… everything he did was solely for Sejin…

“Ah…”

Sejin groaned and buried his face in his hands.

From the day they met, Cheon Sejoo had devoted himself to him. He had given him the chance to dream of a future, offering him choices when he’d only known how to follow the path laid out before him.

After Kim Hyunkyung became ill, he had done everything he could. He paid off her debt so she could go to the hospital immediately and used his connections to get her tested at Korea University Hospital without delay. The hospital bills, the treatment costs, all of it had come out of his pocket, but Cheon Sejoo never said a word to Sejin about it. He never demanded gratitude or acknowledgment for his efforts.

Sejin now understood the intention behind all of his actions. 

Don’t live with regrets. 

Cheon Sejoo’s words at the funeral home echoed quietly in his mind.

Cheon Sejoo didn’t want Sejin to live with any regrets, of any kind. He had taught him, offered him a future, because he didn’t want him to waste his life. He didn’t want Sejin to regret not doing enough for his mother, so he had covered her medical expenses and hospital bills. He had given Sejin choices, and then, at some point, taken them away completely.

He remembered the high-quality shroud and wooden coffin he had seen at the funeral home. It seemed strange now, but he hadn’t had the time to think about it then. It was Sejin who should have chosen those things, but he hadn’t.

Before he could even consider it, everything had been prepared by Cheon Sejoo. He had done it because he didn’t want Sejin to agonize over choosing between cheaper options and the expensive ones for his mother, to regret his choices later… He had prepared everything in advance.

He had only ever received from Cheon Sejoo.

Yet, Sejin, oblivious to all this, had gotten angry at him for not telling him about his mother’s collapse. He had resented him, asking how he could say such things. He had despaired, asking why he didn’t come back, if he had abandoned him too.

That couldn’t be.

Cheon Sejoo wouldn’t abandon him…

He felt so foolish and pathetic, he couldn’t stand it. 

Sejin bit his lip, tears silently streaming down his face.

From last summer to winter, there hadn’t been a single day when Sejin’s eyes weren’t filled with tears. But thanks to Cheon Sejoo, he had endured those difficult days, days he might have spent cursing the world and consumed by resentment.

If it weren’t for him, he would have been more exhausted, more consumed by bitterness. He wouldn’t have been able to properly care for his mother in that state. The fact that she passed away without worrying too much about him was also thanks to Cheon Sejoo.

Sejin wanted to repay that debt.

But how? Unlike Cheon Sejoo, Sejin was just a kid who couldn’t help him or lessen his burdens. He wasn’t as reliable as Cheon Sejoo, and he didn’t even know what Cheon Sejoo’s burdens were.

Will there ever come a day when I can ease your pain? You are so strong…

He desperately wanted to see Cheon Sejoo, but he didn’t know where he was or what he was doing. He couldn’t be more foolish. Sejin dragged himself forward.

In Cheon Sejoo’s bedroom was the T-shirt he had left behind, the one Sejin hadn’t washed because he didn’t want to. It was the only trace of Cheon Sejoo he had left.

Sejin took off Cheon Sejoo’s coat he was wearing and covered himself with it, then buried his face in the T-shirt. Ironically, the faint scent of Sejin clung to Cheon Sejoo’s clothes, and that offered him a small comfort.

I want to be someone meaningful to you. Just as you’ve become a part of me, I want to become a part of you… 

The heartfelt confession lingered in the empty room.

Cheon Sejoo returned shortly after. The moment Sejin saw him appear silently, he couldn’t contain his emotions, stood up, and rushed to embrace him. Tears welled up as he clung to Cheon Sejoo’s neck, inhaling his familiar scent.

“Why… did you only come now…?”

He felt grateful, resentful, and affectionate towards Cheon Sejoo, all at once. He spoke, his words laced with a mix of those emotions.

“You’re… all I have left now….”

Don’t leave me alone. 

Don’t go anywhere. 

I don’t want to leave your side. 

Before the words he swallowed could even dissipate, Cheon Sejoo pushed him away and stepped back.

His cold, hardened face retreated. Sejin stared blankly after him as he turned and fled.

This was the first time Sejin saw fear in Cheon Sejoo’s eyes.