Eventually Choi Seol asked me.
“Why are you doing all this for me?”
Now that I thought about it, he’d asked the same thing back at the house. Why I’d taken care of him when we weren’t even friends. There was homework left to solve before proving the amnesia.
“The reason’s simple.”
I answered readily.
“I was grateful for the book, and the tteokbokki you bought me the first time was delicious. The rainy days, the autumn, and…”
It was a strange thing. I was just listing words, but each one carried the scent of summer and pulled me into sentimentality.
“Anyway, I feel like I got a lot of help from you that year. So I want to repay the favor.”
I still couldn’t tell him the whole truth this time either, but it wasn’t a lie either. Looking back, my only memory of high school days was from my first year, and Choi Seol was always there in it.
That was why I was glad I was twenty-seven now. At least I wasn’t seventeen anymore, back when even meeting someone’s eyes or saying a simple thank-you had felt so difficult. It wasn’t anything grand, but being twenty-seven and able to help Choi Seol made me feel proud for the first time in a while.
“Thanks.”
Choi Seol said it so bashfully that I smiled and held out a fork to him.
“At this rate you’ll take forever to eat.”
I said, pointing at the food that still hadn’t gone down. Choi Seol stared at the fork I held out for a moment, then smirked.
“You’re the one who needs it.”
He seemed to remember this clearly too. Choi Seol pushed away the fork I’d offered and picked up his chopsticks instead. Watching him pick up a piece of sundae, I speared a tteokbokki with my fork and brought it to my mouth. It had cooled a little, but it was still delicious. Delicious enough to make my heart flutter for the first time in a while.
“You okay?”
“More or less.”
I rubbed my churning stomach and nodded with effort. I couldn’t even pretend to say I was fine. I’d always been prone to motion sickness, but staying cooped up at home hadn’t helped either — the long trip was taking a toll. Stamina was an issue too.
“How many hours left?”
“About two and a half more.”
“I see.”
We’d already been on the road for two hours to get to this state, and the thought of having to endure that much more by bus filled me with dread. And that wasn’t even the end of it — once we reached the bus terminal, we’d still have to switch between subway and bus, at least thirty more minutes before arriving. I should’ve exercised more, just in case.
While I was drowning in belated regret, a cup full of ice and a drink appeared in front of me.
“Drink some of this.”
“…Thanks.”
It was lemonade. He must have bought it on his way back from the restroom. Real lemon slices floated in the clear cup, so he must have gone to a café rather than the rest stop convenience store. I sipped the drink slowly. The cold, tart taste washing down my stomach made me feel instantly refreshed.
“How is it?”
“I feel a bit better.”
When I answered in a voice noticeably lighter than before, a faint smile crossed Choi Seol’s lips.
“Good. Want more?”
“…This should be enough. I shouldn’t need the bathroom on the bus.”
Dragging along a body this sensitive made the road ahead feel endless. Choi Seol sighed.
“Then just ask them to pull over for a second.”
“That seems like it’d be a hassle for everyone.”
“What’s the point of worrying about others if it wrecks your body?”
“Isn’t that a bit extreme of an example?”
“Not at all. I’ve seen someone end up needing surgery from holding it in every time.”
“Who?”
“…..”
Choi Seol started to say something, then shut his mouth. Watching him knit his brow as he thought hard, I spoke up without meaning to.
“Is that maybe a memory from after you were seventeen?”
“…Maybe.”
“You don’t remember who it was?”
Choi Seol thought a bit more, then shook his head as if it was no use.
“I sort of… know, but it’s really hazy.”
Even so, a wide smile spread across my face.
“Anyway, that means something’s coming back.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah.”
I jumped to my feet, excited.
“This is great. Maybe it’s because we’re outside? At this rate, are you going to suddenly turn back into twenty-seven once we get to Seoul?”
“I’m already twenty-seven.”
“Huh? Right. That’s true, but…”
His prickly retort caught me a little off guard. Meanwhile, Choi Seol had stood up and taken the drink from my hand.
“Tell me later if you want more.”
“I can hold it.”
“It’s fine. Your hands will get cold if you hold it too long.”
I withdrew the hand I’d reached out to take the cup back. This man’s thoughtful, sharp consideration struck me as oddly, strangely unfamiliar today. Maybe it was because we were outside.
The outfit he was wearing today played a part too. Choi Seol was wearing the semi-formal suit he’d had on the day of the accident. The clothes seemed to have given him new wings. As if he might simply fly away and that would be the end of it.
“Let’s go. It’s almost time for the bus to leave. When we get there, let’s eat something with hot broth to settle your stomach.”
Choi Seol took the lead. The glances from people around the rest area, who’d been sneaking looks his way, all followed after him at once. He’d probably draw even more attention once we got to the city. It struck me anew just what an incredible person I’d fallen for. And just how far out of reach that made him feel.
My stomach, which the lemonade had settled, churned again. I tapped my chest lightly and followed Choi Seol toward the bus. Glancing up, I noticed the sky had clouded over. The thick clouds looked like they might bring rain before long.
“This place has changed a lot too.”
After arriving at the bus terminal and eating something with hot broth like Choi Seol suggested, I felt somewhat more clear-headed. Reenergized, we took the subway for thirty minutes and the bus for another thirty, and got off in an old neighborhood where nostalgia and unfamiliarity coexisted. Like someone returning to their hometown after ten years, I moved my eyes busily, searching for traces of old memories.
“I looked it up before coming here — apparently there’s been a lot of development across the bridge over the stream. Some of it’s still ongoing, and there’s a business hotel now too… Is that it? Wow, it’s pretty big. I heard it was launched by some famous conglomerate’s hotel subsidiary. The view really is good over there. Looks like quite a few shops went up too. Looking at just that side, it doesn’t even feel like our old neighborhood.”
“…Yeah. It’s changed a lot.”
I immediately shut my mouth, which had been chattering away carelessly. Glancing over, I saw Choi Seol’s profile had sunk into something heavy. Realizing my mistake, I quickly changed the subject.
“Still, the area around the school’s barely changed. Oh? That bakery’s still there. That place was really good. Should we buy some later? Ah! That arcade’s still the same too. Gyeong-ho and I used to bet ice cream there and play….. Sorry.”
Despite my attempts to smooth things over, he just stared at me silently, and I found myself bowing my head on my own. Soon, a calm voice came, as if comforting me.
“You don’t need to worry about it. I’m the one who suggested coming here in the first place. I was somewhat prepared for this.”
Saying that only made me worry more.
Choi Seol had said he wanted to stop by here before going to the current address listed on the documents. In a way, it was a natural step to take. Choi Seol’s memories had stopped here. For him, this place couldn’t simply be nostalgic.
This wasn’t the time to be sightseeing around the neighborhood, oblivious.
“Listen, I’m here today as your guardian.”
I carefully brought it up to Choi Seol.
“Like I said before, I want to repay you. So today, you don’t need to act like an adult. Just do whatever you feel like. Don’t worry about me, and… if it’s hard, you can even act spoiled. I’ll take care of things.”
Looking back, even at seventeen, Choi Seol had always acted mature. Every once in a great while he’d lose his temper, but most of the time he was gentle. Even so, he never easily revealed himself. Which meant he was skilled at suppressing his emotions. Having lived through it myself, I knew that wasn’t a good thing. Especially sad, that a teenager would have that kind of ability.
“Got it. I’ll do that when I feel like it.”
Choi Seol, who’d been listening quietly, answered that way, a faint smile forming on his lips.
“Thank you.”
At the low words of thanks that came from behind me, I unconsciously curled my fingers. My palm felt ticklish.
“Shall we go, then? Which way’s the house?”
I asked deliberately lightly, shaking off the heavy mood. Choi Seol seemed to hesitate, then pointed in one direction.
“Across that bridge over the stream, the neighborhood on the other side is where my grandmother and I used to live.”
It was also the place I’d just been babbling about, going on about all the development and how much it had changed. This is why people need to watch what they say.
“Sorry.”
I apologized once more.
“The area around where I lived seems mostly the same still.”
Choi Seol added, as if telling me not to worry about it, and stepped ahead first. I hurried to follow him but stopped short. Choi Seol noticed and turned around to ask.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think a drop of water just fell on my head. Didn’t you feel it?”
At my words, Choi Seol looked up at the sky.
“Hmm, I don’t feel anything.”
“Really? Then I guess I imagined it.”
“Still, it looks like it’s about to pour soon.”
We’d left early in the morning and arrived in Seoul by lunchtime. Even though it was still broad daylight, the sky had already darkened with storm clouds. It felt like a raindrop could fall on my head any second.
“Should I buy an umbrella?”
“Let’s cross first. There should be at least a convenience store on that side.”
We hurried our steps. Fortunately, no rain fell while we crossed the bridge over the stream.
As we crossed the bridge, my eyes were unconsciously searching for something. A single tree with old, thick branches stretching wide, summer sunlight filtering through its dense leaves.
I thought I caught a glimpse of it. But the moment we crossed the bridge, the trial waiting for me dragged the memory back beneath the surface of reality.
“We go up that way.”
We’d just entered the residential alley. The flat ground ended before long, and what lay ahead was an uphill road as steep as the hundred-and-eight steps you’d find at some mountain temple. If anything, it looked like it might be worse, not better.
“We have to climb that?”
“Not all of it, just about halfway.”
“Halfway — how long does that take?”
“About five minutes?”
“Not your pace — a normal, average person’s pace.”
“By my grandma’s pace, ten minutes.”
Why was the standard suddenly his grandmother’s pace? Still, ten minutes by an elderly person’s pace seemed manageable.
“That’s nothing. Let’s just go.”
“…..”
“What’s with that look? You don’t actually think I can’t even walk for ten minutes, do you?”
“No. I mean, if even my grandmother could walk this distance steadily every day, surely a young person in their twenties can manage it.”
Hearing him needle me so smugly, it seemed his memories from after seventeen were slowly being summoned back. Choi Seol tilted his head, gesturing for me to go first.
As if I’d lose to that.
I clenched both fists and started up the hill.
And it wasn’t long before I had to admit it. That I’d underestimated a great many things.
