Instinctively, I raised both hands. My raised hands trembled like aspen leaves. The gun barrel was as biting as dry ice. I felt like I might get frostbite at any moment.
Jake pointed a gun at my head just like this too. As I stood with my back bent, the memory of that day vividly came back, triggering my trauma. My legs were numb, my back felt like it was breaking, yet all my focus was on the gun barrel.
“L-let’s talk this out.”
Please.
“You asked me before, didn’t you? Why I approached you six years ago pretending to be Taylor.”
“T-that… uh, yes.”
“I needed information from you.”
I didn’t even have time to think about how suspicious Hunter’s behavior was, speaking in English. His deeply resonant voice was so cold.
“No matter how many times I probed, you wouldn’t tell me. But what could I do? Who would have thought you’d lost that memory?”
“What?”
Time passed, but the trigger was never pulled. Hyungoh, who had been shrinking his neck, flinched as if he’d been struck by Hunter’s words.
“…Is it really gone?”
Hunter, who had been acting like he would put a hole in Hyungoh’s head any second, suddenly rolled his eyes and thoroughly scanned the surroundings. Then he shrugged and scratched his head with the gun barrel.
“Well, intuition doesn’t always work out.”
Hunter turned around. Hyungoh was at a loss for words as Hunter nonchalantly walked around the living room as if nothing had happened.
“What… what was that?”
“Just a bit of roleplay to check if there were any intruders.”
How could I ever shoot you? Hunter casually said as he cleared away cobwebs in front of the study door with his gun barrel.
Hyungoh barely managed to keep his legs from giving out. The sensation of the gun barrel still lingered on his forehead.
“Don’t you think that was too much?”
Hyungoh, who had finally calmed down, asked accusingly. He was upset. If it was just roleplay, you could have given me a heads up. But then it might have seemed less realistic. Hunter answered while glancing up at the second floor.
“Then what was all that talk about earlier?”
“Huh? What talk?”
“The information you needed to get from me—what does it have to do with my memory?”
“Ah.”
Hunter, who had been prowling around the sofa, changed direction and moved aside a shelf that was attached to the wall between the study and bedroom. It seemed heavy with all the miscellaneous items, as he paused briefly to catch his breath, then kicked it over, pushing it to the side.
Hyungoh flinched. What’s he doing? As he blinked his wide eyes while looking at Hunter, the man gave him a slight smile.
“Before I answer you, let’s make a promise.”
“What kind of promise?”
“First, no running away. Second, maintain your mental stability.”
“…”
“It’s important. Especially for your own sake.”
“Alright.”
Just how grand is this thing he’s about to say? Hyungoh was annoyed by the “don’t run away” part, but at the same time, he felt anxious.
“Since you promised, you have to keep it, okay?”
“I understand, so please answer quickly.”
“Wait, the items behind this wall will answer for me.”
Hunter knelt on one knee and put his hand into a small gap at the bottom of the wall. Hyungoh, who was staring at him with his arms crossed, bit his lip. His anxiety gradually intensified. This doesn’t feel good.
After pulling forward with both hands in the wall gap several times, Hunter frowned. Oh dear, I guess the door hinges have rusted from being neglected for so long. Hunter, who stood up and dusted off his hands, rubbed the thin, vertical crack between the walls and asked:
“Hyungoh, could you go to the kitchen and bring me a kitchen knife?”
“Why?”
“Because I need it for something?”
“You can’t break down a wall with a knife.”
Hunter nodded at Hyungoh’s sarcastic remark.
“But I can poke the gap to push aside the old parts.”
Since Hunter responded so seriously, Hyungoh reluctantly moved his feet. What could be behind that wall? He shook his head, not understanding Hunter who was intently touching the wall with a focused expression.
He grabbed the largest handle from those stuck in the knife block. It looked threatening, rusted as if covered in mold. If I get even slightly cut, I’d die from tetanus. Hyungoh barely held the sticky wooden handle with two fingers and headed for the living room.
“Uncle…”
Hyungoh stopped speaking when he heard a faint presence from upstairs. He couldn’t tell properly whether it was footsteps or the sound of clothes brushing. He tried to ignore it, thinking he might have misheard, but it was too unsettling to just pass by.
Hyungoh glanced at Hunter, who was still attached to the wall in deep thought, and went upstairs as quietly as possible. Just check. Just check.
It was a hallway full of dust and cobwebs. There was no trace of anyone else. How many years has it been? Hyungoh reminisced about old memories while meticulously looking around. A few steps forward, the room Hyungoh had previously used came into view.
Hyungoh paused at the unchanged door. The feeling of nostalgia was greater than expected. He carefully placed his hand on the door handle. Should I go in?
Suddenly, Hyungoh felt a strange sensation. Though he wasn’t particularly tense, his palm quickly became sweaty. This feels uncomfortable. Why? It was as if someone was warning Hyungoh not to open the door.
A feeling.
Yes, this doesn’t feel right. Hyungoh swallowed.
He tried to step back. However, someone inside the room was turning the handle and pulling the door open.
The door opened roughly. Hyungoh, who had been holding onto the handle, unintentionally stepped into the room.
Hyungoh felt that something was going wrong. There was someone in front. Fear dominated his mind in that brief moment.
Oh no.
He tried to lean his upper body back hurriedly to retreat, but it was already too late. Hyungoh fell forward as if charging at someone. No. The kn-knife… Instinctively raising the hand holding the kitchen knife, something fell to the floor with a rather loud noise.
Hyungoh stared blankly at his hand, which was holding only the wooden handle with the blade detached. It had separated, probably because it was old and worn out.
I’m done for. Hyungoh racked his brain for how to survive this situation where he couldn’t even scream.
“Choi.”
Hyungoh was startled by the gentle embrace holding him. It was a familiar warmth.
Huh?
Hyungoh pushed him away reflexively. The first thing that caught his eye was his snow-white sweater. Not just the top, but even his pants matched in white.
Slowly, he raised his head. Through his pale yellow hair that half-covered his face, he met two icy blue eyes. Hyungoh, whose lips were trembling as if unsure whether to smile, called his name in a whisper.
“…Michael.”
