03. San
San.
The first time she saw him was on a summer day.
It was under a sky where puffball-like clouds floated idly, in a field bursting with nameless purple flowers.
The weather had been exceptionally fine, and he was there, in that place where the blowing wind carried a deep fragrance of flowers.
She remembered his jet-black hair fluttering in the wind.
His large, round eyes, red lips, small frame, and even the shape of his perkily upright ears. His first impression had been so mysterious that she had wondered for a moment if she had discovered a fairy living in the forest.
Particularly those eyes. She had been completely captivated in an instant by those black pupils that shone like obsidian. To the point where that fleeting moment felt as if time were flowing at an incredibly slow pace.
The noisy chirping of the cicadas grew muffled, and the intensely beating sunlight turned hazy……
How could she ever forget that lie-like moment, where even the pollen drifting through the air looked like glitter that someone had intentionally scattered?
Having fallen completely under his spell, she was finally able to snap out of it only when he hurriedly bowed his head. And she recognized that he was not a fairy, but a child of Socheon, and that this was a place where just anyone was forbidden to enter.
It was only natural that a desire to draw closer and look at him arose. She could still remember the feeling of that moment, where she had to clench her fists tightly to hold back her urge to check if she was looking at an illusion, to touch him directly with her own hands.
When she stood before him as he frantically dropped to his knees, she bent her waist without realizing it to match his eye level.
It was an action that did not conform to etiquette and was something she absolutely should not have done, but strangely, she couldn’t think of anything at that moment. Even though it was a time when they had to guard the rules with their very lives.
“Hello?”
“…….”
“Who are you? You look like a child of the Jizoku……”
She could tell just by looking at the clothes he was wearing.
According to the rules where one could wear lighter colors the closer they got from the earth to the sky, clothes dyed with loess were permitted only to the Jizoku, clothes stained with gardenia water to the Shizoku, and cream-colored clothes dyed with marigold only to the Tenzoku.
Furthermore, the face veil that he belatedly and flusteredly hooked over his ears indicated that he belonged to the lowest status even among the Jizoku.
It was a detail that made her understand why she had never once seen him until now, and why such a beautiful child had never caught anyone’s eye. He and she were as far apart as the sky and the earth, a relationship that could never touch.
“This is a place you are not allowed to enter. I suppose you didn’t know.”
There was no way he didn’t know. Because the children of Socheon were thoroughly taught about the rules from the moment they could understand words. She simply wanted to give him an excuse to make up.
“I, I must have taken the wr-wrong path. I’m, I’m sorry! Something like this w-will never happen again.”
“Right. That can happen. But do you know who I am?”
“Pardon……? That, of course……!”
The moment he snapped his head up as if he had heard something he shouldn’t have, his face suddenly began to shine. Literally sparkling, as if transparent jewels were embedded in it.
In truth, it was merely a single ray of light piercing through a gap in the clouds that had opened just at that moment, illuminating his face. It was also due to the unknown blisters that completely covered his face. Yet back then, it had felt like some sort of revelation.
Because while watching him sparkle as he caught the sunlight, she had thought that perhaps the one who suited this beautiful field better was not her, but that child.
Seeing her look surprised, he was busy trying to cover his face out of shame, but strangely, she only felt a deep pity for him and didn’t think he looked hideous at all.
“What should I call you?”
“Pardon?”
“Your name. Do you not have a name given to you by the Chief of the Jizoku?”
“……It is called San.”
Even the name suited him perfectly. Looking simple yet brilliant, and appearing steadfast even amidst trembling.
It was at that moment that a desire to keep that child by her side for a little longer bloomed.
When she saw his hands gently cradling the flower stems even in a moment of terror. When she noticed that the dirt smeared on those hands was a heart meant for someone else.
“San. Did you want to take some flowers?”
“Pardon?”
At the sight of him repeatedly widening his round eyes and asking back, a laugh had slipped out of her.
When she laughed, his face turned bright red. She covered her mouth out of apology because he looked so terribly embarrassed, but for some reason, the corners of her mouth wouldn’t come down. Since she took it for granted back then that he must be younger than her, she seemed to look at him as if watching a cute younger brother.
“Who are you planning to give the flowers to? Your mother? Or your sister?”
“M-my mother loves flowers, so…… I was p-planning to take just a little! I kn-know I shouldn’t do that…… I’m truly sorry.”
Even with a frightened face, San answered quite well. She liked that he was different from the others, who unconditionally prostrated themselves on the ground and refused to even lock eyes.
“Then let’s go over there.”
“Pardon……?”
If they were to follow the rules, she should have kicked him out immediately and reported this matter to the elders. So that they could punish the rule-breaker and educate him to ensure such a thing never happened again.
But she didn’t want to do such a thing to someone who had taken a risk for his mother.
“There are more pretty flowers further inside. I will take you there.”
“But how could I possibly……”
“What if you stay here and catch someone else’s eye? Hurry.”
Should I not have extended my hand back then?
If, on that day, we hadn’t gone around picking wild flowers together.
If, because of that, we hadn’t become friends.
If the days where I protected you and you comforted me hadn’t continued after that.
If so, would my heart not have to ache like this right now?
San.
“Geon-woo.”
Turning his head toward the person calling him, the man’s face was close to achromatic.
An hour too early to be called morning. In the garden draped in a bluish dawn light, a chilling atmosphere flowed as the fog had not yet dissipated, yet the face of the one sitting alone in the midst of it was—
“Could you not sleep?”
It was not much different from the face of the woman who, despite looking at her son, appeared terrified for some reason.
“Mother.”
The two people, who looked alike yet unalike, silently stared at each other for a moment.
It was a process of a gaze that seemed to verify something intertwining with a gaze that meekly dismantled itself to show everything, and drawing back sensitively raised antennae at a smile made to look as though nothing could be dangerous.
The completion point of that process, which closely resembled identifying friend from foe, was the moment the woman smiled. Tucking her disheveled hair behind her ear, she spoke in a soft voice.
“Would you like to come inside? I’ll brew you a cup of tea.”
“There is someone I’m waiting for.”
Directly in front of where he was looking, there was only dense fog and a stone fountain where no water flowed.
Who on earth was he waiting for? Past that fog was nothing but thick vegetation; was someone actually going to appear from there? It was a reasonable cause for wonder, but the woman didn’t ask further and simply nodded. The smile she put on until her dimples showed seemed to carry a hint of relief.
Yet, Geon-woo smiled back like a person who hadn’t noticed a thing.
“The morning air is still cold. Go inside, Mother.”
“Alright. Don’t wait too long either.”
With that, the conversation between mother and son ended. Their long-standing agreement, properly refined to be neither too close nor too awkward.
Of course, it could be said that their agreement also included pretending not to see things like the dried bloodstains on the back of his hand or the soil smeared on the woman’s white feet.
The woman vanished abruptly just as she had appeared, and Geon-woo, alone once more, placed the cigarette he had been concealing out of politeness back between his lips. Inhaling deeply several times in a row, he held the smoke sufficiently before letting out a long exhale.
The garden, devoid of even the sound of birds chirping in the morning, held nothing but stillness. Since the sole person in that scenery had been sitting like a still-life object for a long time, there was nothing to break that silence.
Only when more time passed and the fog entirely cleared did the person he was waiting for appear.
“Why the fuck is it so hot since early morning?”
Whether he intended to camouflage himself or not, it was his secretary, dressed in a form-fitting, grass-colored suit.
What revealed his presence just as clearly as the curses he spat out of habit was a highly artificial, powerful perfume scent that left an indelible impression.
“Yang Ho-su.”
The pretty name, which didn’t match his appearance, was his Achilles’ heel. The fact that Geon-woo called it without hesitation meant they were that close. Ho-su also noticed right away, just by looking at Geon-woo’s face, that he had stayed up all night in that spot.
“That’s why I asked why the hell you went all the way there just to look at that sight. Turning your stomach inside out.”
To the chiding regarding his erratic behavior from the previous night, Geon-woo merely responded with a loose smile. On the outside, it was a posture that looked remarkably leisurely, but Ho-su already knew that his mind was filled with impatience.
“The task I ordered?”
Sure enough, he got straight to the point.
“It will fall into that woman’s hands within today, so please stop pestering me. You ill-tempered General Manager.”
Only then did a genuine-looking smile spread across Geon-woo’s face.
As the sun shone on his face which had regained its composure, his flawless, smooth skin radiated brightly.
Within the landscape that finally seemed complete, it was a morning where the dew, retaining the sunlight, sparkled.
