SANN | Chapter 14

At last, the good news came that Seon Woojae had died. Sieon, who could kill someone without lifting a finger, didn’t really feel any guilt. He just thought of it as something that naturally had to be done.

Sieon cautiously informed Gureum of the death. Gureum’s reaction to the news was unexpected. At first, he seemed a bit surprised, but after hearing the cause of death, he quieted down without much comment. The plausible cause of death Sieon fabricated was acute alcohol poisoning.

Gureum, seemingly lost in thought, kept his mouth tightly shut. Sieon held his hand firmly, thinking it best to wait for him to speak first. After waiting a while for a response, Gureum looked up at Sieon pensively and said, “I guess there are some things I need to… sort out…?”

“There are funeral arrangements, but if you want, hyung will take care of it. Don’t worry about the rest.”

Funeral… Gureum murmured and shook his head decidedly.

“If hyung is okay with it, just do the funeral…”

“…Okay.”

Gureum’s eyes, which sparkled clearly like a deep country night, often reflected his emotions transparently. But now, it was hard to gauge what he was thinking.

Was he reluctant to face a dark aspect of his past that he had momentarily forgotten? Or was it difficult to cut even an unworthy tie? In any case, Sieon hoped that Gureum felt more the relief of being finally free than the loneliness of being left alone. That was all Sieon wished for.

Sieon accepted Gureum’s decision not to attend the encasement ceremony and attended it alone, planning to bring Gureum over later. The battered corpse of Gureum’s biological father was twisted beyond recognition, and anyone could see that he had not died peacefully.

“Rest in peace,” Sieon said mechanically, but he couldn’t help bursting into laughter. “Yes, rest in peace.” The funeral director, taken aback by Sieon’s sarcasm, shakily dressed the corpse in a shroud. He probably saw some unusual wounds on the body during the disinfection process.

Wrapping with hemp rope, tightening, and covering again—the tedious process repeated several layers. Just when Sieon was about to yawn out of boredom, the funeral director quietly spoke to him, “You might want to give the deceased some burial money…”

“I’ll give you a generous tip after the encasement, just let him go. He doesn’t deserve anything.”

The funeral director nodded silently instead of replying. Sieon was well aware that the money going into the coffin would end up in the director’s hands anyway. He just wanted to insult the damned man in any way he could.

After the preparations were done, Sieon went home and took Gureum in the car. Throughout the drive, Gureum stared out the window, silent, and Sieon did not try to make conversation.

At the funeral home, they changed into mourning clothes and completed the incense offering and flower laying. Gureum hesitated for a moment before slowly sitting on the cushion Sieon had laid out for him.

The empty funeral hall was filled only with a heavy silence. The path of one who reaps what they sow was nothing but pathetic. How could someone have lived such a mess that not a single mourner showed up? Sieon felt like laughing wildly in front of the deceased’s portrait.

On one hand, he felt it was fortunate. The man had lived unhealthily and would have died one way or another. What if Gureum had never met him? If he had to consider a malignant tumor as part of himself, only to have it surgically removed without preparation… Sieon didn’t want to imagine how Gureum would have felt, left alone.

Was Gureum thinking the same? Sieon observed his profile intently. Gureum was staring blankly at the portrait. His mourning clothes looked like a child who had stolen an adult’s attire.

Sieon also glared at the portrait. The man in it bore no resemblance to Gureum’s biological father. Sieon clicked his tongue and held Gureum’s small hand. He had been worried about Gureum’s silence. As he gently stroked the back of Gureum’s hand, Gureum turned his face toward him with a clear expression.

Gureum’s hand, thin and much smaller than Sieon’s, fidgeted continuously. He seemed about to say something, then stopped and hesitated again before finally speaking in a soft voice, barely reaching Sieon.

“…Hyung. It’s strange…”

“Why?”

“The tears…, they won’t come…”

Sieon paused for a moment, then placed his hand over Gureum’s heart.

“…Maybe your heart doesn’t feel like crying right now.”

“Maybe so…”

Gureum quietly responded and leaned into Sieon, who opened his arms wide to embrace him.

Sieon’s hands gently patted Gureum’s back, but his eyes flashed with sharp anger. His gaze silently targeted Gureum’s biological father.

Uncle, are you watching? Such a tearful kid, yet he doesn’t cry.

Sieon had hoped Gureum wouldn’t cry, but confirming it like this made him grind his teeth. He suppressed his anger. Gureum should have been a bright and cheerful child, loved everywhere. Even without making such assumptions, it was evident.

That man did not deserve a peaceful end. Sieon was determined to make it so.

Unaware of the murderous intent in Sieon, Gureum enjoyed the warmth for a while longer. Even without that significant presence in his life, he had someone who embraced him firmly, a loved one here now.

Though it was neither the time nor the place, his heart strangely fluttered. Gureum pressed his cheek firmly against Sieon’s solid shoulder and closed his eyes, confessing softly,

“…Hyung, you know…”

“Yes.”

“Actually… when I asked you not to report him… it wasn’t for my father, but for me…”

“…”

“If he wasn’t around… then there would be no one by my side… I was afraid of being too lonely, that’s why I did it…”

Sieon silently embraced Gureum tighter, his breath short. Gureum seemed to smile faintly.

“But now I’m okay… because I have hyung.”

“…Of course.”

“And… though it might be hard… the doctor said it would get better…”

Bless him. Feather-like kisses fell over Gureum’s hair and face.

“That’s right. Now hyung is here, and Gureum will get better.”

Sieon held Gureum’s cheeks, infusing his words with more conviction than anyone else’s.

Sieon was aware that the pain of awakening to knowledge was greater than the ignorance. In that process, Gureum would have to endure some blows. Sieon could only hope that the arrows of fate would be somewhat blunted.

After the funeral, Gureum often suffered from fevers at night. When the stifling clump of emotions didn’t subside even with the heat, he would secretly retreat to a corner and clutch at his chest.

“I think I’ve swallowed a rock,” Gureum would say, referring to his pain. The child didn’t understand why he was hurting or how to alleviate the pain. Sieon felt just as helpless. Watching Gureum suffer from wounds that couldn’t be immediately healed, Sieon experienced a sense of powerlessness that slowly enveloped him.

“Don’t cry alone, don’t suffer alone.” No amount of coaxing or scolding helped. The child who had lived a life of selflessness always tried to endure on his own.

If that was Gureum’s wish, there was nothing Sieon could do. Now, if Gureum’s warmth was not beside him, Sieon instinctively woke from sleep. Yet, it wasn’t enough. He wished Gureum would never suffer alone, not even for a second.

Sieon had a knack for finding Gureum hiding around the house. Gureum always apologized to him. Initially, Sieon thought it was just an apology for waking him up. But now, he understood its meaning.

Maybe Gureum wanted to be found, to see Sieon discover him first and reach out with warmth, finding silent reassurance in that.

So, Sieon reached out deliberately. Embracing, kissing, comforting. If that wasn’t enough, he embraced Gureum fervently. Gureum’s metaphorical rock would melt under Sieon’s intense affection.

“Our Gureum was here.”

Today, Gureum had hidden in a corner of the dressing room in his bedroom. Crouching down with his head buried between his knees, Gureum looked up in surprise.

“…Hyung…”

“Baby. Swallowed a rock again?”

“Yes… it’s suffocating, ugh… suffocating…”

“Come here.”

As if accustomed to it now, Gureum shuffled between Sieon’s legs and found a spot. Sieon wrapped his arms around Gureum, pulling him into his broad chest and slowly stroked his back.

“They say the heart hurts more when healing than when it’s first wounded. Seems like Gureum feels the same.”

“Uh… yes… I think I’m starting to understand why I hurt…”

“Really? Can you tell hyung?”

“It feels empty, unjust, and regretful… Wondering why I suffered so much at the hands of such a person… Wondering why I ended up so broken…”

“…”

“I’ve never said ‘no’ to my father, hyung. I regret that so much… I should’ve said ‘no’ at least once. I should’ve screamed ‘don’t hit me’… Before mom ran away, I should’ve said ‘don’t hurt mom’… uh… I should’ve said it at least once…”

But that was too hard for me. Gureum cried softly. Even his regrets were characteristically kind-hearted. Apart from his upbringing, he was inherently a good child. What could such a young one do? Sieon patted Gureum’s back. It was admirable how Gureum had grown up right even in such a harsh environment. If it were Sieon, he might have become a juvenile offender long ago.

Gureum thumped his chest area as if it was blocked again. Baby, you’ll bruise. Instead of pulling his hands away, Sieon’s hands delved into Gureum’s chest, gently caressing as he kissed him, yet Gureum’s tears wouldn’t stop.

“Uh… I’m sorry… but it’s just so suffocating…”

“Gureum…”

Sieon paused, contemplating. Today, Gureum’s condition wasn’t good enough for an embrace. He had to think of another way to put him to rest.

“How about we go for a drive? Right now.”

“…What? It’s four in the morning…”

“Maybe the cool air and night view you like will make you feel better. We’ve never tried that before when it’s like this.”

“…Um, if hyung is okay with it…”

“I’m fine with anything as long as it’s with Gureum. Come on, let’s get changed.”

Sieon started a destination-less drive with Gureum in tow. As Gureum quietly admired the city lights, he cautiously looked at Sieon, seeming to have something to say. Quick to catch on, Sieon grinned and broke the silence first.

“You can open the window. You know I don’t mind the cold.”

“Ah, yes…! I’ll just open it for a bit….”

With permission granted, Gureum, bundled up more tightly in his scarf, rolled down the window. The frigid air of the winter dawn slapped his face as it invaded the car.

Sieon’s hand overlaid Gureum’s. Despite the biting wind swirling around them, their clasped hands retained their warmth. Gureum, staring blankly outside, seemed to forget the cold just for that moment. Holding tightly to Sieon’s large hand, he let the remnants of his past scatter aimlessly within the confines of the speeding car along the riverbank.

Unperturbed by the howling cold wind, Gureum quietly closed his eyes and took deep breaths of the sharp air. Calmly inhaling and exhaling, the burdens he had been holding onto began to tumble down his cheeks. Breathing rapidly as if he had been reborn, Gureum seemed to reset his very being.

Sieon turned up the volume of the speakers slightly. The whimpers were drowned out by the music. As one song ended, then another, and eventually the whole album neared its conclusion, the window slid shut. After wiping his eyes a few times, Gureum looked intently at Sieon.

As their eyes met, Sieon smiled, a smile that seemed almost pained. He wiped away the remaining moisture that Gureum hadn’t managed to clear himself. Seeing Gureum finally feel the cold reassured Sieon that he was okay now.

“Hyung, you must have been very cold…”

“No. I came out to let Gureum catch the wind. How about now?”

“I’m okay now… Thanks to you, hyung…”

At a red light, Sieon immediately wrapped his hands around Gureum’s cheeks. They were soft like mochi but cold as if frozen. He’s going to catch a cold at this rate. Clicking his tongue, Sieon steered the car toward a nearby cafe. It was around five in the morning, an ambitious hour, and not a single place was open.

“…Right. Babies need to drink milk before they can sleep.”

“…What?”

Gureum, puzzled by Sieon’s murmuring, opened his eyes wide and turned to look at him. Sieon responded with just a smile, turning the car around.

After stepping out for a moment, Sieon returned with both hands full, carrying canned coffee and soy milk from the convenience store. The drinks were toasty, likely having been kept in a heated section.

Sieon playfully held back the soy milk, then pressed the warm cans against Gureum’s frozen cheeks. Gureum’s cheeks puckered up, and his small lips popped out in response.

Sieon gently kissed the pout that met him and then smiled softly. He opened the soy milk and handed it to Gureum, who graciously took it with both hands and drank eagerly. The warmth of the car and the hot drink seemed to relax Gureum’s chilled body, visibly loosening up as he gradually slumped more comfortably in his seat.

“You’ll probably sleep well once we get home, right?”

“Yes… Thank you, hyung. And I’m sorry, for always being like this…”

“Shh, it’s alright.”

“…Um, y-yeah…”

Cutting off Gureum’s apologies, Sieon’s firm dismissal left Gureum awkwardly stretching his response into a sheepish grin. The road home was bathed in blue. Finally, as Gureum’s face regained its smile, it seemed as though the sun was slowly rising within him.