Im Gyeong looked away from the stock graph on his laptop screen, took a sip of tea, then rose from his seat. Wearing a black robe, he laced his fingers together and stretched lazily. After that, he stepped out onto the terrace. The wind was unusually bitter today.
He sat in a chair, taking in the view of the garden, when Tatsuki brought him a cup of tea. Tatsuki had left for Japan and returned after a week. It wasn’t hard to imagine how much he’d been pestered by his mother in the meantime.
His mother, Im Seonghui, hated the idea of her only son Im Gyeong coming to Korea. She felt the same way about him meeting his half-siblings and his father. The longer his stay stretched on, the deeper her worry grew.
“The weather’s warmed up quite a bit.”
Snow and cold wave warnings had been in effect just last week, yet the temperature had climbed as if none of that had ever happened. The colorless landscape of this yard would change soon enough. This house was a place Im Seonghui had once lived in long ago. His mother had wanted to sell it, but Im Gyeong liked it here — perhaps because of childhood memories. Not that there was anything particularly special about those memories.
He sipped his tea, a satisfied smile on his face. Just then, Tatsuki’s phone rang. It seemed an unexpected visitor had arrived, first thing in the morning.
“Tell them to come in.”
A moment later, Kang Heesin appeared from the direction of the gate at the far end. He was dressed in his usual suit with a dark charcoal coat over it. His fair skin and handsome face made even the stiff, old-fashioned coat look good on him. Blue would suit him even better, though. Maybe I’ll put him in one someday.
“You’re here?”
Im Gyeong greeted him casually, and Kang Heesin walked toward him. As the man drew closer, a faint powdery scent drifted off him. A fragrance far too sweet for Kang Heesin to wear. Im Gyeong found himself irritated that the man had come carrying another woman’s smell on him — and yet, strangely, glad to see him all the same.
“What is this?”
Kang Heesin shoved the message Im Gyeong had sent an hour ago right in front of his face. Inside it was a photo of Yun Sena.
“Who else. The person who ordered Kim Jungu’s abduction.”
“Are you joking?”
“Come inside first. It’s cold. Your nose is turning red.”
Kang Heesin grabbed Im Gyeong by the arm.
“What’s your reason for trying to drive a wedge between Sena and me?”
“Drive a wedge? That stings. You were the one who wanted to know, and I simply told you the truth. If you want, I’ll show you the evidence inside. But first, let’s do something about that god-awful powdery smell coming off you.”
“……”
“Understood?”
Im Gyeong turned and walked away, and Kang Heesin glared at the back of his head.
He’d been in the middle of his time with Yun Sena at the hotel when a photo had arrived. It claimed the person who had commissioned Kim Jungu’s abduction was Yun Sena — and to his shock, it was. He hadn’t been able to ask Sena about it, and he couldn’t afford to wait until the afternoon. So he’d rushed straight here, only for this man to ramble on about powdery smells without a shred of consideration for how he was feeling. It was infuriating.
As he followed Im Gyeong inside, Heesin found himself unconsciously lifting his arm to smell it. Does he hate perfume? Is his sense of smell that sharp? He had been holding Yun Sena before leaving, but only for a brief moment. It wasn’t some overwhelming stench — just the ordinary, common cosmetic scent women tended to wear.
They went inside, and Heesin looked around. The house was old, bearing the marks of time, but that only gave it a dignified, antique charm. Through the wide windows, the yard he had been standing in moments ago came into view.
“Sit down. What do you want to drink? I don’t have instant coffee, but I can have some brought if you want.”
Instead of answering, Heesin settled into one end of the sofa.
“I don’t need anything, just come sit down.”
At that, Im Gyeong smiled and glanced over at Tatsuki.
“See that? He’s giving me orders.”
The man with Im Gyeong was lean but solidly built, wearing light-tinted sunglasses, a scar beside one eye, and long hair neatly tied back in one. He looked like he’d walked straight out of a Japanese Yakuza film. The type who says little and carries himself with courtesy, but in truth possesses a terrifying capacity for killing.
He was letting his mind wander when Im Gyeong handed him a cup of tea.
“Drink it. Good for calming the nerves.”
“The photo first, if you don’t mind.”
Im Gyeong pulled out his phone and opened a recorded audio file.
— It’s true! Please believe me! Why would we be crazy enough to tail a prosecutor? Last month, a man came to see us. Said there was something his employer wanted done. At first, I had no idea who it was. I asked around through connections, and that’s how I found out — it was the youngest daughter of Seoil Group.
The man’s voice in the recording was trembling faintly. Heesin had a rough idea it was Lee Changseon, the one said to have gone abroad.
— He said to watch Kim Jungu once he got out of prison. To make sure he couldn’t get near that prosecutor. And if he did get close — he asked us to take care of it. Then we ended up witnessing the scene by accident. I didn’t even know that bastard was threatening him! Why would I tell someone to threaten a prosecutor! Please believe me!
The man’s voice was desperate, pleading his case. Heesin, who had been listening in silence, rose to his feet. As he walked toward the entrance, Im Gyeong — still seated on the sofa — turned only his head to look at him.
“Leaving already?”
“I know who it is. That’s enough.”
“Aren’t you curious why she did it?”
“She must have had her reasons.”
“Like what?”
“We heard it together, didn’t we.”
“Ah — to protect you from Kim Jungu? You believe all of that?”
Im Gyeong leaned back against the sofa and smiled. Heesin stopped in his tracks and turned to glare at him.
Why hadn’t Im Gyeong gone back to Japan? Why had he stayed here, inserting himself into my affairs? Why had he gone out of his way to make me come all the way here this morning? What did the things he’d been subtly hinting at mean? And the conclusion he arrived at was —
“Im Gyeong. Are you interested in me? Do you like men?”
Im Gyeong’s handsome face creased in a satisfyingly displeased frown. Surely not.
“Or the other way around.”
Meaning — did he like Yun Sena, and was that why he was getting in the way? It was rare, but Heesin had handled cases where half-siblings had been involved in exactly that kind of situation. Hearing him out, Im Gyeong smiled with that same furrowed brow. He looked like a handsome actor from an old black-and-white classic.
“Explain it to me. In a way I can actually accept.”
Before the sentence even finished, Im Gyeong slowly rose from his seat. He walked straight toward Heesin. With those long legs, it only took a few strides to close the distance. A man taller than him, fine-featured and elegant, was now looking down at him from just inches away.
“My reason…”
His fingertips approached Heesin’s neck, then drifted downward without quite touching — grazing along the front of his suit jacket, shifting to the center, and finally landing on his necktie. He lifted the end of the tie ever so slightly and smiled. His expression looked as though he might call him a shallow man at any second.
Heesin knocked the hand away without a word and turned to leave. There was no point in staying any longer. Im Gyeong would just keep playing word games until the end. Whatever the reason, Yun Sena had more than enough justification for keeping tabs on him. No — even if she had none, accepting it was simply the reality of his position.
Just before stepping out of the house, he noticed a large tree.
It had no leaves and no fruit, but a small sign written beneath it caught his eye.
He found himself suddenly curious about what a date thirty years ago might mean. Could it be the day Im Gyeong was born?
My mother told me she buried my umbilical cord under the jujube tree in the front yard after I was born. But afterward, as the family fell into ruin, they had to sell the house for next to nothing — and the cord became fertilizer beneath it. In the end, it had only ever done good for someone else.
He surfaced from the old memory, opened the gate, and walked out. He went to the car parked in the alley, pulled off the necktie Im Gyeong had touched, and tossed it onto the passenger seat. He was just about to start the engine and pull away when someone knocked on the window. He turned — Im Gyeong was standing outside the driver’s side window.
He wiped the irritation off his face and made a reasonable effort at a civil expression.
“Something else you wanted to say?”
Im Gyeong pushed his face up close to the window.
“Yes.”
Caught off guard, Heesin instinctively pulled back.
“Wha — what is?”
“What you asked earlier. Whether I’m interested in you.”
He stared, flustered, and Im Gyeong pushed his face even closer.
It was just about to become a kiss — and Heesin hurriedly pressed his palm flat against the man’s face to stop him.
“What the hell, what the fuck!”
Im Gyeong laughed and nodded toward the passenger seat.
A box that hadn’t been there a moment ago was sitting on it.
A prettily wrapped box of cookies.
“Have some on the way. I baked them myself.”
“……”
“What. Did you think I was going to kiss you?”
“……”
“I’m not gay, but if you want, I can.”
“……”
“Should I?”
This guy, for real. Half-sibling or not, Heesin was half a second away from punching him. While those thoughts were running through his head, Im Gyeong smiled and stepped away from the car. Bye. Watching him walk away with both hands in his pockets, grinning like an idiot — Heesin could picture exactly how pathetic he must look right now.
Instead of responding, Heesin simply drove off. On the way, he nearly threw the cookies Im Gyeong had gifted him out the window — but stopped himself. What did the cookies ever do wrong? It’s the person who’s the problem. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to eat them either, not knowing what might have been put inside.
