Hongdan had never woken up as refreshed as he did this Saturday morning. He’d slept as much as he wanted and opened his eyes according to his body’s rhythm rather than to a phone alarm hammering at his ears. His body felt light without a single tense spot anywhere. Not to mention the warm sunlight pouring in through the window.
Though it was a lie anyway, it seemed the weather would be good all day today without any news of rain.
Stretching softly, Hongdan headed toward where he could hear familiar noise. It was probably signs of Seonha, who had woken up earlier than him.
“You’re up?”
Sure enough, hearing Hongdan’s footsteps, Seonha, who had been standing in front of the gas range, slowly turned around. Hongdan rubbed his blurred vision from suddenly coming out to a bright place and confirmed Seonha’s state.
Mm… it was strangely incongruous somehow.
“…Aha.”
He’s been fighting quite a fierce battle, it seems.
The white plain t-shirt he was wearing was marked with stains large and small. For a moment he flinched, thinking they were bloodstains, but the color was strangely appetizing to say it was that. Seeing that he was holding a spoon with a similar-colored seasoning on it in his left hand, it seemed to have splattered from the earthenware pot that was boiling vigorously.
Hongdan leaned his head against the wall and let out a laugh.
“Wow- can’t you just not look for your memories? Or let’s crack your head open one more time. Then you might really become human without eating garlic and mugwort and stuff.”
“Tsk- mean words again. Just come sit down.”
Seonha puckered his lips as much as possible while pulling out the chair where Hongdan always sat. Hongdan also now naturally accepted that consideration. Seonha had seeped a bit more into his daily life.
He added another comment while tasting the side dishes with the utensils Seonha had set out in advance.
“Anyway, there’s nothing particularly worth remembering among what you forgot.”
Oh, it’s delicious. Did Yeon Seonha make this too?
The properly fermented radish salad was sweet and sour, whetting his appetite.
Between grabbing another handful and trying to grab that much more again, Seonha set down the earthenware pot with a thud. Then he scooped out half of what Hongdan had picked up and dumped it into his own mouth, saying not to fill his stomach with this first.
Hongdan was about to glare at him, wondering what kind of petty behavior this was, when his gaze was stolen by the bright red marks on Seonha’s clothes. And he obediently picked up his spoon. Since he’d boiled it so fiercely, it seemed like he should fill his stomach with that red pepper paste stew as Seonha said.
Indeed, whether the battle of the early morning breeze hadn’t been in vain, the stew was more delicious than what you’d eat at most restaurants. Hongdan’s spoon movements quickened.
“But why do you say there isn’t?”
While he was concentrating on his meal like that, Seonha, who had only been poking at his rice, suddenly asked.
“Huh? What?”
Hongdan looked at Seonha while roughly wiping his mouth with a nearby tissue. Seonha didn’t answer right away. After moving his lips a bit and even emptying a cup of the water that had been poured, he finally continued speaking.
“…Why do you say there’s nothing particularly worth remembering among what I forgot? Among them, you’d be the most, Hongdan. We even got… married.”
“Ah…”
What did I say again.
He’d gotten unnecessarily tense because he was acting like he was trying to set a heavy atmosphere. Hongdan casually picked up his spoon again.
“That’s the most useless thing.”
“…”
It might sound disappointing to someone who lost their memory, but that was the correct answer.
As he’d drawn the line several times already, Hongdan had not the slightest desire to start anything again with Seonha. Even attaching the number “ten years” to the time they’d spent together felt wasteful. Honestly, Hongdan didn’t really care whether Seonha found his memories or not. Nevertheless, since they were someone else’s memories, he was reluctantly going along with it.
To Choi Hongdan, not even one second of memories with Yeon Seonha was worth reminiscing about.
This was a self-evident fact that Hongdan had repeated countless times during the year he’d spent apart from Seonha, and he firmly believed that Seonha would think the same once he regained his memories.
“…I don’t think so.”
So Hongdan didn’t bother adding a response to Seonha’s denial that followed. The person in front of his eyes right now wasn’t the real Yeon Seonha that Hongdan knew, and there were no appropriate words to give back anyway. Pretending not to hear and moving on was best for both of them.
The fact that Seonha’s portion of rice was almost as good as new by the time he got up from his seat was also not something Hongdan needed to particularly keep in his field of vision.
***
“Is it far?”
Seonha, who had been sitting obediently on the sofa waiting for Hongdan, came running over as soon as he came out of his room. The gloomy energy that had been gently rising on his face had already been cleanly erased. Hongdan also nonchalantly wrapped his scarf.
“A bit? But my friend said he’s coming to pick me up.”
“Ahh…”
Without saying anything particular, Seonha just gently smoothed the end of Hongdan’s scarf. His gestures were somewhat earnest, as if he wanted to tie it for him instead.
That much of a gap was fine.
Since it wasn’t very difficult, Hongdan obediently offered his neck. Soon, a sound that seemed a bit pleased, a small rustling of breath, could be heard as Seonha approached closely.
“Thank you.”
Conveying useless gratitude, Seonha wrapped his arms around Hongdan’s neck. Hongdan could see the strength tightly entering his shoulders.
No matter how careful he was, his fingertips inevitably grazed Hongdan’s nape.
Each time their skin touched gently, he could see his shoulders flinch. His cheeks were strangely flushed. In contrast, Hongdan was just quiet enough to seem indifferent.
Even if he tried to move his hands as leisurely as possible, it wasn’t like he was braiding hair into ten strands—it was just wrapping a scarf. It was too trivial an action to drag out the time as much as Seonha wanted. That regret was plainly revealed on Seonha’s tightly pursed lips.
Eventually, Hongdan, who became frustrated, broke the silence first with a joke.
“What, you gonna strangle me with that?”
“No-o!”
“Then move, man.”
Though he stamped his feet as if wronged, Seonha obediently stepped back as Hongdan pushed him. Of course, he didn’t completely distance himself and still followed closely at Hongdan’s heels.
“It’s not that… um…”
Seonha lightly tugged at the end of Hongdan’s jacket.
“Do I know him too?”
Ahh. I wondered why he wasn’t asking.
“Who knows.”
“Who knows? Why who knows?”
“Well, he wasn’t particularly close with you. I don’t know if you’d remember even if I told you.”
He vaguely evaded, not wanting to mention Hyeonchan and create unnecessary trouble. If Hongdan’s calculation wasn’t wrong, Seonha’s modest memory range would include the period when he and Hyeonchan were going at it. Hongdan had never found school life as tiring as during that time.
“Mmm…”
The curiosity that hadn’t yet been resolved was clearly revealed in Seonha’s fidgeting fingers, but he didn’t probe further.
Was this also part of what the bastard had resolved all last weekend? Now Hongdan was willing to take advantage of that mindset.
Hongdan, who had finished putting on his shoes, stamped his feet.
“Hey, I’m going.”
“Huh? Oh, w-wait! What time, what time will you come back?”
However, because Seonha urgently pulled on his crossbody bag strap, his body suddenly tilted back sharply.
Thud! Hongdan sighed briefly and removed that hand.
“…You said to come back for dinner. I’ll be back before 6 at the latest no matter how late.”
Before answering, Hongdan had to bite his lips tightly once. It was because he’d struck Seonha’s hand harder than intended. The thin skin that was starting to swell red flickered in his vision.
But Seonha just smiled brightly without frowning at all, seemingly happy with Hongdan’s confirmation that he’d come early.
“Yeah! I’ll grill meat for dinner, so you can’t be late. I don’t want to feed you tough stuff.”
Hongdan held his breath for a moment. Strangely, he couldn’t get used to that face.
The speech pattern that made one suspect lowered intelligence, the forced tears, the uncharacteristic consideration. Even though he’d gotten used to everything about Yeon Seonha who had reappeared before him, that innocent smile was unfamiliar every time he faced it.
As if nothing had happened, Hongdan quietly turned the front door handle.
“Be careful and come back-“
Then he went up the villa stairs without responding to the end to the warm greeting. It was a staircase he’d gone up and down hundreds of times, but today in particular, his breath rose sharply.
Was that why?
Hongdan didn’t notice that he hadn’t heard the dull sound of the iron door closing until he got into Hyeonchan’s car parked right in front.
Bang-!
The door sound that finally came was loud enough to shake the entire building. It was even somewhat irritable, as if expressing someone’s mood on their behalf.
“Jung Hyeonchan.”
Seonha, leaning against the shoe cabinet, roughly tousled his hair. A bloody sneer hung on his smooth lips.
“No wonder it felt fucking annoying that he kept hiding it.”
