“…Let’s prepare a room.”
It was the head monk who spoke when no one else would. The monks, who had been keeping their mouths shut with the air of people nursing a headache, exchanged glances for a moment before finally nodding. They decided to clean out the annex and prepare a place for the guest to stay. As the monks moved off in their busy, unhurried trails, the commotion seemed to fade into the background — and yet Nunbi, for some reason, couldn’t pull his eyes away.
The strangely composed guest, carrying on as though nothing had happened in the middle of all that chaos. It was because of him. Uneasy as he felt, the boy couldn’t help but keep staring at him, as though under some kind of spell. Even smeared with blood, his complexion was pale enough to seem almost luminous. His brow and eyes were partly hidden by the crumpled umbrella, but below it peeked the line of his nose, and below that the curve of his lips and his jaw. Submerged in the darkness of the rain-soaked mountain temple, his whole bearing had turned sharp, like something on edge. The laughter from moments ago seemed like it had never existed.
And it was right then. The young man, half-hidden behind the umbrella, turned loosely around.
Nunbi held his breath without realizing it. Surely not. As if he had sensed in an instant the boy watching quietly from the dark — a chill ran down Nunbi’s spine.
“….”
The dented umbrella shielding the young man’s face tilted slowly upward. The wind blew. And then — a bruised brow. Eyes that slanted upward at the corners, giving him a fox-like look. The revealed pupils cut across the darkness. Their gazes met. That sharp gaze of the young man’s drove straight through the hand-width crack in Nunbi’s door in an instant. It landed directly on Nunbi.
“Huh…?”
The next moment, Nunbi found himself locking eyes with him through the dark. The boy swallowed a sharp breath. Without even realizing it, he began shuffling backward, mouth still clamped shut. The next moment a gust carrying rain swept in. The window with its loose frame creaked open. His head spun. Standing before the window as it drifted open, Nunbi was hit with a rush of wind and rain sweeping over his bare legs. The strip of rain that had been visible through the narrow gap slowly widened before his eyes. The moment stretched unbearably slow. And through it, somehow — impossibly — it felt as though the distance had closed. His face grew clearer.
He saw Nunbi.
He caught me.
The moment it registered, Nunbi watched, dazed, as the corner of the young man’s blood-crusted lips curved slowly into an arc. The instant those long, upturned eyes folded slightly at the corners, his mind went completely blank. The young man smiled, looking at Nunbi. With that peculiar expression — smiling and yet somehow not looking like a smile at all — the kind of smile that left a strange hollow somewhere around your sternum,
“Hey.”
He spoke.
“What are you doing over there?”
Those sharp eyes, which had been blade-like just moments ago, curved softly as if nothing had ever been different. Belatedly warm. Directed gently toward Nunbi…. It happened in an instant. The boy felt it in his gut. This is bad. He had been caught. The fact that he’d been hiding here — what had been happening outside — the fact that he’d been secretly watching this whole time while the man was beaten like a dog. The next moment Nunbi went sheet-white, stumbled to his feet, and lurched toward the window. Without even noticing the crashing sound he made, he threw his arm out and grabbed hold of the latch. Shoved it shut with a bang. Pressed his back against it and gasped for breath.
“Ha — hah — ha….”
His heart was pounding. Nunbi hastily latched the hook over the window catch. Because if he didn’t, it felt like the young man outside would burst in at any second. That couldn’t happen. His heart pounded wildly. What do I do? Flustered, Nunbi dragged his legs across the floor and crawled into his bedding. Then pulled the blanket up over his head.
From outside, the sound of monks calling to the young man drifted in — resigned, as though they’d given up and only dusted off the room in a hurry before clearing out. Come this way, they said, get inside quickly and change out of those clothes at least. Nunbi curled his whole body tight and held his breath. The blanket, grown damp and heavy with humidity, smelled of earth. Footsteps. Rain. Shadows flickering again across the walls. He didn’t know how long he lay like that — but outside, before long, everything went quiet as though nothing had ever happened.
“Ugh.”
He’d tossed and turned all night. Nunbi finally dragged himself out of bed around the time the sun had fully risen. On a normal day he’d be wide awake at four in the morning without even setting an alarm — so today’s sleep-in was thoroughly unlike him. It was lucky that school was on break; if it had been a school day, he’d already be firmly late and would’ve had his ear flicked at the school gate or gotten a paddling on the backside. The boy hauled himself upright with a groan and carefully opened the window.
The smell of summer morning rain and a breeze still carrying some coolness seeped gradually into the side room. Dark, overcast sky — and the sound of the wind chime at the eave being tossed wildly about by the rain.
“Haa.”
Drained by last night’s ordeal, Nunbi let out a sigh that seemed to sink into the floor. He sat slumped in place and stared up at nothing but the dim overhang of the roof beyond the window. The sky was cloudy and grey. He’d cycled through every nightmare his mind could produce, leaving his body damp and sticky with sweat. Nunbi dragged a hand across his forehead where cold sweat had dried. He’d only just gotten up, and already he had no energy. The rain that had been falling in isolated drops picked up — shhhhhh — and within moments the sky seemed to crack open and pour.
Nunbi had been glancing warily outside like a stray cat nosing around a kitchen, and when voices drifted over from close by, he ducked quickly beneath the windowsill. But the ones murmuring to each other as they passed by the side room were only the Bosal devotees coming down to sweep the front gate. The boy moved his hands slowly, folded and pushed aside the bedding he’d slept on all night, and flopped face-down on the floor.
“What do I do.”
Morning prayers would be soon — he had to wash his face and head out. That unwelcome guest will have gone to the annex by now. What if I run into him? It was already a foregone conclusion that the man would be staying at the temple for a while. Having been caught peeping, running into him even by accident would be a disaster. What if he’s already gone and told the head monk everything? If so, Nunbi was certainly in for an earful.
“Nunbiiiiii.”
Just then. A small shadow flickered at the door of the side room. Nunbi startled, but recognized the voice almost immediately and relaxed.
“Nunbiiiii, let’s play. Come play with meee.”
The one who had come out in the rain first thing in the morning was the little troublemaker novice monk. The novices should have been just waking up and heading off to wash their faces — but judging by the fact that this one had come looking for Nunbi before anything else, it was clearly a bid for a piggyback ride. Nunbi didn’t want to keep the little novice waiting when he’d come all this way on his own just because he wanted to. Nunbi had no choice but to haul himself up and head outside.
“Nunbi! Carry me, carry me!”
The breeze of early summer brushed the back of his neck. While Nunbi breathed in the crisp morning air washed clean by the pouring rain, the little novice monk was already waiting down on the wooden veranda steps with both arms spread wide, ready to be scooped up. Despite the rain coming down like this, he’d made it all the way here with an umbrella held crookedly — his small grey novice robes were splotched and soaked through. Nunbi reached out briefly and ruffled the little round chestnut of a head with its close-shaved scalp. Then he gently asked,
“Hey, did you happen to see anyone strange on your way down from the annex?”
Nunbi’s plan was this: if the little novice said he’d seen someone strange, he’d have to lay low this morning. If he said he hadn’t, he’d take the little novice along to go pay his morning respects at the main hall.
“Huh? I didn’t see anyone?”
The little novice tilted his head as he answered. Nunbi let out a quiet breath of relief and reached up to take the washbasin hanging on the side of the veranda and fill it with water. The little novice was kind enough to sit patiently on the edge of the veranda the whole time — while Nunbi scrubbed his face thoroughly, rinsed his mouth with water from the kettle, and flipped the basin upside down to dry.
“Alright, up you go.”
Nunbi spread his arms and the little novice came trotting straight into them. Nunbi let out an oof and hoisted the tiny monk up into the air, swinging him a few times before setting him back down.
“Now let’s go pay our respects together.”
The little novice whimpered that the swinging hadn’t been enough, but Nunbi slipped on the rubber shoes neatly lined up on the stepping stone, and opened out the umbrella the little novice had brought along so crookedly.
Paying his morning respects to the head monk was part of Nunbi’s daily routine. It was — it had always been — and yet, as he walked slowly hand in hand with that small fern-like hand in his, past the temple bell tower and toward the main hall, Nunbi kept darting his eyes around as though he had something weighing on his conscience. As he walked, he kept twisting around to look behind him, scanning in every direction.
“What is wrong with you, Nunbi?”
The little novice, who had been sucking his left thumb since his right hand was taken up in Nunbi’s grip, snapped with open irritation.
“Nothing. I didn’t do anything. What.”
Nunbi answered and quickly dipped his head. From that point on, the boy kept only his eyes raised to check each person passing nearby. He didn’t want a run-in even in an ordinary way — but being spotted right now, with a little novice monk in one hand and an umbrella in the other and limping more than usual because of it, was the absolute worst possible scenario.
“Nunbi. Cold. I’m getting rained on.”
“Ah, sorry.”
Nunbi snapped to attention and tilted the umbrella further toward the little novice. But the rain showed no sign of letting up, and before long Nunbi ended up scooping the little novice into his arms entirely. The little novice barely reached Nunbi’s waist, and was getting thoroughly soaked by the second from under the umbrella — he had no choice.
