“I really like Kkotmoa.”
“…What?”
Who the hell are you to like Kkotmoa? I really like Kkotmoa too. I like him more. In a different sense than what you’re thinking. In a sense you can’t even imagine.
“Crazy bastard, don’t think weird thoughts. I may seem like I get along and hang out with all sorts of bastards, but there aren’t many bastards I’ve given my heart to.”
“…So what.”
“Forget about family background and all that bullshit, I’m saying I acknowledge him as a friend, Kkotmoa.”
Kkotmoa is someone I could never acknowledge as a friend even if I died.
Words I couldn’t speak back echoed desperately in my heart before disappearing on their own. I couldn’t predict at all why Kang Junwoo was suddenly saying these things.
“What are you trying to say?”
“…Ah fuck, really! Put up a fence or something, you fucker. Don’t let any dog or cow drool while looking over the wall. Ah, fuck! I’m so fucking pissed.”
The mad dog started going wild. I had to watch this heat-struck dog bastard throwing a fit alone without knowing why. The neighborhood mutt who threw a tantrum for a moment soon got tired on his own and slammed the rooftop door shut before going down.
Perhaps the one who was clueless wasn’t Kang Junwoo but me. No, I wasn’t clueless, but I was the type who was even more oblivious than Kkotmoa. I’d been mistaken that only I saw Kkotmoa as a flower. That’s why, even though Kang Junwoo gave me this many hints, I had no idea about the rumors secretly spreading around school.
* * *
“Hello.”
The flower shop I visited after a really, really long time was the same as when I’d come before. If there was something slightly different, it was that Kkotmoa’s dad seemed very busy. Even in the midst of that, I couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of Deonggeori standing next to his dad with ribbons on both arms, playing assistant. Even at five years old, he seemed to be earning his keep. When our eyes met, Deonggeori smiled quite dignifiedly and said, “Hyung-ah’s fwiend, hewwo.”
“Welcome, Hyeondo-ya. I hear you’ve been having a hard time teaching our Moa lately?”
“Not at all. You seem very busy.”
“A group order came in asking for fifty bouquets by 7 o’clock. I guess there’s some event.”
Today was the day of D Group’s in-house awards ceremony. Twice a year, it was a modest awards ceremony created with the intention of boosting employee morale while settling accounts for the first and second halves of the year. It was called a modest awards ceremony, but in fact, because it was included in personnel evaluations, employees were desperate to be selected as outstanding employees. From the looks of it, D Group seemed to have ordered bouquets to give along with the plaques. It was also an occasion where they held the awards ceremony in a hotel banquet hall and enjoyed a party while eating and drinking the prepared food and alcohol.
“Dad, do you have a lot to prepare? Should I help you?”
“No, I just need to finish the bouquets. I guess it’s a big event—people came 10 minutes ago to decorate the hotel banquet hall and loaded up tons of flowers I’d prepared in advance.”
If they came 10 minutes ago, I almost ran into one of Father’s secretaries. Their way of handling work was that one person always accompanied to directly oversee and check everything with their own eyes. Cold sweat ran down my back for no reason. I didn’t know why, but I didn’t want to let Kkotmoa’s dad know that I was the son of D Group.
“Then I’ll take Jaea with me. You’ll finish up and go straight to the hospital, right?”
Even if D Group’s events were modest, the scale wasn’t small, so today’s sales alone would easily exceed ten million won, so it wouldn’t matter if he closed the flower shop right away. However, Kkotmoa’s dad, who had wrestled with flowers alone all day, would be tired.
While the dissimilar father and son had a friendly conversation, I was making eye contact with Deonggeori. Deonggeori, who’d been staring intently at me for a moment, placed the ribbons he’d had on both arms one by one on the table, then stretched his arms toward me.
What. What am I supposed to do about that.
I narrowed my eyes and watched to figure out what Deonggeori was trying to say. Deonggeori just stared intently at me with his handsome face, only blinking his eyes while keeping his very small, thin lips tightly pressed together like he was eating bird feed. Still with both arms stretched toward me.
So what. What am I supposed to do? I need you to speak to know. I’m not a psychic who can read telepathy.
“He wants you to hold him.”
What. Is he a psychic?
I looked at Kkotmoa, unable to hide my expression of absurdity and disbelief. Then Kkotmoa’s dad, who was quickly moving his hands to wrap flowers, chimed in.
“Our Jaea must like Hyeondo. He’s a proud prince who doesn’t even make eye contact well even when customers come and say ‘so pretty, so pretty.'”
That’s not true. He’s a shameless Deonggeori who readily clings to just anyone.
Just looking at how he didn’t want to leave my mom’s arms, and how he stretched his arms to me first, anyway, they say parents know least about their children, and it was exactly right. As I just stared blankly at Deonggeori, Kkotmoa approached Deonggeori as if to hold him instead. How was he going to hold Deonggeori too with those soft arms while even carrying a bag on his shoulder?
“You said he wants me to hold him.”
I stopped Kkotmoa and quickly went over and scooped up Deonggeori. Arms softer than custard and squishier than jelly wrapped around my neck. I was a bit flustered because I’d never felt such a texture anywhere. When he cried before, I must not have felt it because the kid was wearing long sleeves. Now something really fluffy like cotton candy was clinging to me. No, it was also like jelly.
I greeted Kkotmoa’s dad and we came out together. Kkotmoa’s dad, who looked busy, casually accepted the greeting and was still moving his hands quickly even as we left. I encountered Kkotmoa’s dad so naturally that I wondered what I’d been worried about. Perhaps I was more open-minded or without prejudice than I thought.
No, actually, I was in the mood to even consult with his dad about liking Kkotmoa.
D Department Store, which could be called the heart of D Group, had 40 branches nationwide, of which 25 were in the metropolitan area and 16 in Seoul alone. Including the first overseas branch in New York, there were European branches in London, Paris, Milan, Moscow, and Asian branches in China, Japan, Vietnam, etc. Along with the hotel, which could be called the group’s lungs, it was responsible for the largest sales.
We moved to the branch closest to the flower shop. Even though it was close, it was about a 15-minute taxi ride. Kkotmoa and I split the taxi fare in half. Deonggeori sat on my lap even in the taxi.
Unlike the muggy and unpleasant outside air, the inside of the department store was so cool it was almost chilly. Seeing Deonggeori cling more persistently, he seemed a bit cold.
“Are you cold?”
“Hm? I’m fine. Ah, now that you mention it, Jaea might be cold. Jaea-ya, are you cold?”
Deonggeori, who was hugging me tightly, nodded his head. Suddenly I remembered the cardigan Mom had packed saying there was a big temperature difference, but which I’d shoved in my bag and never taken out once. I felt like immediately going into the children’s clothing section and buying him lots of clothes, but not knowing how Kkotmoa would take it, I put Deonggeori down for a moment, rummaged through my bag, and took out the cardigan. It was a simple, neat navy-colored cardigan without any pattern. It was a cardigan I wore as an outer layer, but when I put it on Deonggeori, it dragged on the floor.
“Jaea-ya, hyung will make it neat for you.”
Kkotmoa, who bent his knees and sat at eye level with Deonggeori, grabbed the cardigan and deftly moved his hands this way and that. The cardigan that had been dragging on the floor was soon beautifully shaped and tied around Deonggeori’s body. The sleeve parts, which were more than twice the length of Deonggeori’s arms, were somehow arranged so that only his tiny hands were cutely showing while hanging at his wrists. Looking at times like this, Kkotmoa seemed quite good with his hands, but I don’t know how he’s so bad at handling flowers.
As soon as the clothes were arranged, Deonggeori turned his body to the side rather than to Kkotmoa in front of him and stretched his arms toward me. Now I know this means he wants to be held. Because I learned earlier. I scooped him up and whispered so only Deonggeori could hear. Actually, I’d been suspicious from the start.
“Hey, Deonggeori. You’re stretching your arms to me because you’re worried your hyung will have a hard time, right?”
Deonggeori didn’t open his mouth, but I heard an answer. Eyes that seemed to say ‘you only just realized?’ came and struck me. It was admirable and praiseworthy that a mere five-year-old thought of his hyung this way, but later we’d have to have a battle over who likes Kkotmoa more.
Two male students in school uniforms carrying a five-year-old Deonggeori together created a slightly bizarre picture. It was uncomfortable when ajummas who came out shopping talked to us saying the child was so handsome, so cute. Like Kkotmoa’s dad said, Deonggeori, held in my arms, kept his mouth tightly shut and exuded utmost haughtiness, not even pretending to listen. Rather, Kkotmoa would smile brightly and greet them, saying thank you, that it was his younger brother.
“Isn’t it annoying?”
“Hm? What? Ah, people talking to Jaea? I hear it often when I go out with Jaea. Rather than annoying, I’m grateful. Sometimes ajummas give him bread or candy and such.”
Whether it was because he was truly grateful that even strangers adored Deonggeori, or because he was in a good mood about coming out to buy toys for Deonggeori, Kkotmoa continuously poured out various stories with a smiling face. In the midst of that, we arrived at the toy corner.
“Deonggeori, pick what you like.”
When I said that while putting him down on the floor, Deonggeori dashed between the toy aisles as if he hadn’t been sitting still in my arms, unable to focus as he looked at this and that. I worried about what budget I should set so it would seem like Mom gave it and Kkotmoa wouldn’t feel burdened.
“What will you do if he picks something expensive, telling him to pick what he likes? How much did your mom give you?”
“100,000 won.”
Since Mom had slipped Deonggeori a 100,000 won check at that time, it seemed like an appropriate amount. However, Kkotmoa seemed to think differently.
“No way, that’s too expensive.”
“Then I’ll have him pick something for 10,000 won and pocket the 90,000 won myself.”
“Jaea-ya, pick something expensive.”
The person who said it was too expensive disappeared somewhere, and he quickly approached Deonggeori and spoke playfully. What Deonggeori chose after pondering for a long time was a large box that looked like a robot. Looking at the instructions on the surface of the box, it seemed it could transform into a car too. The price tag said 68,000 won. Even after carefully selecting it, Deonggeori struggled because he couldn’t lift it.
When I picked up the box with one hand, Deonggeori’s gaze followed it up. He had an expression as if it was really cool, so my shoulders shrugged.
