With a grunt, Nunbi pushed himself upright, cracked the room door open, and peered outside. The stream of visitors seemed to have mostly trickled in already — the sound of footsteps had grown sparse, and the hum of cars coming up from below had fallen silent. Nunbi quietly took stock of his surroundings, then slipped out of the side room without a sound.
On his way to the annex, he picked his steps like a petty thief. Of course, there was a reason Nunbi was so anxious about it. The devotees were all generous souls who made enormous offerings to the temple — but Nunbi, who lived off the temple’s charity, was nothing more than a thorn in their side.
However they’d come to know about this remote mountain temple in Taebaek, the devotees all arrived in their private cars, designer handbags in hand, setting down thick white envelopes — fat as bricks — whenever they made their donations. The fact that Nunbi, in what was no orphanage, ate and slept here for free on that precious money was something he’d rather not have exposed. That he was a parasite on the temple was not something anyone needed to see. Of course, the boy intended to keep as invisible as possible — hold his breath, stay out of the way. Even if he couldn’t step forward and offer his thanks, the least he could do was not ruin anyone’s mood.
“Haah….”
Slipping up the steps to the annex, Nunbi heaved a sigh deep enough to sink the ground beneath him. The fact that he hadn’t died a stranger’s death or been abandoned as a newborn — that he’d grown up fed and warm — was all thanks to Assemblyman Go, one of those very devotees. Enough time had passed that the Assemblyman surely no longer remembered the existence of Nunbi, who’d stayed clinging to this place, but Nunbi had never stopped feeling grateful. And so, his son too….
“Ahem.”
The boy cleared his throat for no real reason and crept carefully up to the annex. The door was shut. He’d hoped that, if luck was on his side, the umbrella might have been left outside — but it seemed Woonjeong had gone out of his way to bring it inside. There was no neatly folded umbrella waiting to be found near the stepping stone, or around the corner of the veranda. Right. So we’re meeting face to face again, then. Nunbi lingered for a moment, glancing around, attempting a whistle that wouldn’t come, playing nonchalant — waiting to see if Woonjeong might come out on his own. But the rain was picking up, and he couldn’t keep that up for long. Before his T-shirt was completely soaked through, Nunbi finally gave up and quickly stepped up onto the annex veranda.
“Um….”
He tried calling out, but there was only silence from inside. Nunbi even went so far as to rap lightly on the paper-screened sliding door with the sharp knuckle of his finger.
“Hey, I came to get the umbrella….”
The moment those words left him in a voice barely above a murmur, a brief shadow stirred behind the previously still door. In that instant, something dropped inside Nunbi’s chest without his permission.
“…!”
This was bad. And not only because Go Woonjeong had appeared through the gap in the door, his face languid and unhurried. From the sound of voices, it seemed a devotee was passing by the annex — late, by the sound of it. The next moment, without time to think, Nunbi shoved Woonjeong — who had only half-emerged through the gap — back inside, then threw himself in after him, his body pressing flush against Woonjeong’s as he tumbled into the annex.
“….”
“….”
Nunbi, flustered by Go Woonjeong’s face suddenly right in front of his, still managed to pull the annex door firmly shut behind him. Whether or not the devotee — who had just been about to climb the steps toward the main hall with suited attendants in tow — had caught a glimpse of the back of Nunbi’s neck as he dove into the room at that very moment was anyone’s guess. But….
“…What’s this now?”
The room was dark on all sides. A low voice reached him from above — no, from right beside his ear. Close. Nunbi startled and lifted his head. An unlit room. In the dim shadows of a day thick with monsoon clouds, Go Woonjeong was looking at him.
It was the closeness that startled Nunbi. Woonjeong’s eyes, bathed in light from some unknown source, looked almost transparent. The boy parted his lips without meaning to. Nunbi’s chest and Woonjeong’s slender waist were pressed flush against each other, separated by nothing more than the thin fabric of a single T-shirt. From somewhere, a breeze drifted in, laced with the smell of rain.
“Ah — no, sorry….”
Nunbi snapped back to himself and tried to step away. But in the next moment, Woonjeong’s arm reached out and braced against the door, just beside the back of Nunbi’s head. It was a slow, unhurried movement — yet Nunbi found himself completely caged. For some reason, he couldn’t breathe. Their faces were so close.
“You threw yourself into my arms all of a sudden. What am I supposed to do with that?”
Woonjeong tilted his head toward Nunbi as he asked. He hadn’t thrown himself into anyone’s arms. He’d simply found somewhere to hide in a hurry — that was all. And he hadn’t meant for Woonjeong to do anything about it, either. But Nunbi had missed his window to push back, and now the words wouldn’t come. The soft strands of Woonjeong’s hair that had fallen across his forehead looked close enough to brush against Nunbi’s own.
“Did you do something you shouldn’t have?”
“N — no, it’s not like that.”
“Then what is it.”
Nunbi tried to answer Woonjeong’s quiet, low-voiced question with some composure, but stumbled over his words. His heart was beating strangely. Whether it was from shock or something else entirely, he couldn’t tell. Of course, Nunbi had his own reasons — I’m not a devotee or anything, I was never supposed to be here in the first place. The head monk is just quietly looking after me. I’m living off the temple’s charity, and I’m scared of upsetting the people who fund this place, so I’m just hiding for a moment — that was all he needed to say.
“It’s Sunday, so….”
“What does that have to do with anything.”
Nunbi swallowed dryly and looked away from Woonjeong’s gaze.
“There are a lot of visitors at the temple today. It’d be a problem if they found out I’m here.”
“What kind of problem?”
“Well….”
But Nunbi didn’t want to lay out the full sorry story of his circumstances here, of all places. That would have been true even if it weren’t Woonjeong standing in front of him. It’s going to sound like I’m whining — like I owe my life to the Assemblyman and I’m still not managing to live with any dignity, still skulking around instead of holding my head up. The thought deflated him.
“It’s just… complicated.”
So Nunbi left it vague and let the words trail off.
“What a fuss over nothing….”
Woonjeong muttered that under his breath for a moment, but mercifully didn’t press any further. Nunbi perked up his ears and tried to gauge whether anyone was still outside. The sound of dress shoes that had made his heart clench was already long gone.
“Sorry, and thank you. Got through it okay, thanks to you.”
Only then did Nunbi let out the breath he’d been holding and dropped his height sharply, ducking under the arm Woonjeong had stretched out beside his head to cage him in and slipping free. A short, mirthless laugh followed him out. Without quite knowing why, his ears and the back of his neck burned. He must have been more flustered than he’d realized. Nunbi fanned himself with his hand and wandered a meaningless loop around the room.
“I, ahem — I came to get the umbrella.”
He stated his business with a somewhat shameless bluntness, trying to cover his embarrassment. Woonjeong narrowed his eyes. Then, without a word, he stepped past Nunbi and made his way further into the room. Nunbi turned to follow him on instinct — and let out an involuntary “Wow” under his breath. It was the first time he’d actually gotten a proper look at the inside of the annex.
The room, open all the way up to the roof rafters, spanned three full sections. The section by the door where Nunbi stood held an elegant old writing desk, plush floor cushions, and a generous sitting area with room for guests — and past a sliding door threshold, a large bed that could easily fit four people.
Beyond that was a rear veranda twice the size of the side room where Nunbi stayed. With all the panels pushed open, it faced the temple’s stone wall directly — a prime spot to sit and soak in the scenery. The windows, too, were enormous and wide; even cracked open just a little, they framed the back mountain like a painting. It looked like the kind of place you could sit all day watching rainwater drip off the eaves.
“This place is… really something.”
Nunbi said it with pure admiration. He’d lived at this temple his whole life, and only today did he learn the annex was a place like this.
“Sit down.”
Woonjeong, who had crossed the room as if it were nothing, said it while pushing open the paneled doors to the rear veranda. Sit down? Am I allowed to do that? Nunbi had forgotten all about his plan to grab the umbrella and leave — he drifted toward it as if in a trance. The scenery of the mountain temple opened up like a vanishing wall, and the sound of rain came rushing into the room all at once. Nunbi gazed at the eaves where fat drops pattered down through the lush green, and the wide-open veranda stretching out beneath. Moving with a quiet, uneven gait, the boy soon settled himself down properly onto a cushion. Steam was still rising from the teapot on the refreshment tray — it must have just been brewed. And the cushion beneath him was impossibly soft.
“Have some, if you want.”
There were two teacups — as if Woonjeong had already known Nunbi was coming. Sitting alone brewing tea? That’s not quite what I would have imagined. Nunbi couldn’t quite hide his suspicion, cat-eyed and wary, but still accepted the tea Woonjeong offered and took a small sip. It was incredibly good. Different from the tea he sometimes got from the monks during mealtimes. He’d heard there was special refreshments and rare tea leaves kept for important guests who visited occasionally. But since the monks never indulged in luxury — and Nunbi had certainly never laid eyes on any of it — he could only guess that this was probably one of those things.
“So then.”
Go Woonjeong cut into Nunbi’s thoughts and spoke.
“You — who can’t be caught here on Sundays — what are you going to do now?”
