Chapter 42
by Gideon“Damn, this place is fucking tiny, isn’t it?”
The single-room apartment in the hillside slum was so cramped that even stretching out their legs felt suffocating. The rain had made the air humid and damp, making the small space feel even more claustrophobic. Wet clothes clung to their skin, tightening around their bodies. It was hard to even breathe properly, and sweat left them drenched.
“How did we ever live here?”
Juhyeon continued muttering to himself. He spoke louder than usual, as if trying to keep his voice from being drowned out by the sound of the rain. Yet, his words only echoed emptily, met with no reply.
“There were four of us at first. And back then, we used to talk every night about how this was so much better than the orphanage…”
Back then, we used to huddle together in that cramped room every night, dreaming of the future. We’d barely keep the cold at bay, wrapped in the worn-out blankets we’d brought from the orphanage. I remembered just blinking, listening to the older boys talk. Just seeing their eyes sparkle with hope was enough to make me happy. What kind of future had Dongwoo hyung been dreaming of?
“What am I supposed to do… It’s so unfair.”
His voice trembled with a sob. Tears blurred the fragments of memory floating in his mind. Juhyeon bit his lower lip as the recollections began to fade.
“…Hyung, how could you leave after struggling so hard your whole life?”
Would things be different if Dongwoo hyung had just abandoned Woo Juhyeon too? I still wouldn’t have been able to shake the guilt, but maybe he wouldn’t have died delivering food in a strange city. He only went that far to clean up my messes.
“I was going to get you out of here, Hyung. Why did you have to go so far? Why, Hyung?”
So, in the end, it’s no different from saying you died because of me.
Because of me. Because of Woo Juhyeon, who didn’t even share a drop of blood with him. Because of the childish Woo Juhyeon, who couldn’t even take care of himself.
“Ah…”
His cheeks felt hot. He couldn’t tell if it was sweat, tears, or rain. He cupped his tear-streaked face in his palms, but the dampness still seeped through his fingers.
I didn’t even cry like this when I was left all alone.
He was a grown man, yet here he was, acting like a child. He sobbed for a long time. His eyes were too swollen to open properly, and his throat was so dry that even drawing a breath felt like a struggle. No matter how hard he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, the moisture wouldn’t go away.
“…”
Juhyeon had sensed a presence outside for some time now. He could hear the rain drumming against an umbrella. Though the lack of streetlights or moonlight made it impossible to see, he knew someone was standing there, listening to him cry. And he knew exactly who it was.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He rubbed his eyes fiercely with the back of his hand. His eyelids felt hot and swollen, but he forced his gaze through the half-open door, trying to focus. Through the driving rain, a pale wisp of smoke drifted in. The faint scent of cigarettes began to permeate the musty air of the small room.
“What, was it funny? Watching me save up money, believing you were still alive?”
“…”
“Why did you ask what I wanted to do when I saw you again? Were you curious to see what kind of pathetic hope I was clinging to?”
As Juhyeon listed all the things he wanted to do when he met Dongwoo, Lee Taemo knew they would never happen. That was why he had taken their place.
“You knew all along, yet you let me live my life like a fool!”
There was no sign of him, only the faint scent of cigarettes. But Juhyeon now knew this was how Taemo announced his presence.
“You knew how much he meant to me! You knew everything, so why didn’t you tell me?! You made a fool out of me, and now you say you don’t want to hide it anymore, that you’ll tell me everything…!”
“…”
“There’s a limit to how much you can toy with a person.”
Tears and rain mingled on his face, making it sticky. His eyes stung from being rubbed raw with the back of his hand, but Juhyeon kept scrubbing his eyelids as if trying to vent his rage.
“I want to fucking kill you…”
The words were a mere whisper, nearly drowned out by the torrential rain, but they still reached Lee Taemo. From a heart seething with a suffocating heat, words sharpened like blades tore free.
“Revenge? I don’t give a shit about any of that. If it weren’t for you, I could have lived with hope. I could have believed my brother was still alive.”
“…”
Juhyeon’s voice cut through the air, blaming and cursing Lee Taemo. If he had lived his whole life in ignorance, if he had never known the truth until the day he closed his eyes, he could have survived on a flicker of endless hope.
“I lived my whole life, barely clinging to that belief… and because of you, I know! I know he’s never coming back!”
Juhyeon screamed until the veins in his neck bulged. The small, single-room apartment, devoid of even a hint of warmth, filled with his sobs. He wailed like a child. In this house, he had always held back his tears, but now he could finally let them all out.
The cigarette smoke had cleared by now. Through the steady sound of rain, a low voice drifted in.
“I was scared you’d die.”
Underneath his wet, trembling eyelashes, Juhyeon’s brown eyes shifted. Through the gap in the door, which was open just a few inches, Lee Taemo’s presence could be felt again.
“Because I’m your only hope. I was scared you’d give up on everything and die.”
“Hic… huff…”
“Even a bastard like me was scared of that.”
Lee Taemo’s voice sounded the same as ever. Or so it seemed. But the ends of his words sank heavily. The sound of the rain beating down was hiding all the tremors, the sadness, and the guilt.
“Knowing what it’s like… to have someone waiting for me, to have someone stay up through the night with me, to have someone worry about me…”
“…”
“I finally realized how good it feels. And that’s why I’m so scared of losing you.”
Woo Juhyeon understood the fear Lee Taemo was describing. He understood it better than anyone. After all, it was the very thing Juhyeon had yearned for his entire life—the very thing he was slowly discovering through Taemo.
The tears that had just begun to subside burst forth again. Like the relentless rain that refused to weaken, Juhyeon’s tears showed no sign of stopping.
“If I’d known Seo Jinyoung was that kind of fucking bastard… hic… I would have killed him then. If it were me, I would have just killed him right then and there. Fuck…”
“…”
“How could you even live with a piece of shit like that? How could you look at his face and still smile?!”
Not just once or twice, but for years… how could he have endured seeing that bastard’s face? This was the man who had killed his own father and then framed him for everything.
“You learn something doing this job,” Lee Taemo said. “Human life isn’t that easy to extinguish.”
“…”
“I learned that dying in one go is a blessing.”
Juhyeon knew it too. That was why Lee Taemo always made sure to announce his presence, threaten his victims, and corner them before finally killing them. Juhyeon had wondered if it was some sadistic hobby of his, but perhaps Lee Taemo was simply striving to make their deaths as agonizing as possible.
“I couldn’t let that bastard go easily. I was just finding more painful ways to kill him.”
“…”
When Lee Taemo spoke of Seo Jinyoung, he ground out each word through clenched teeth. His voice overflowed with emotions he couldn’t fully conceal—a stark contrast to how he had treated Jinyoung all these years.
The reason Taemo had kept Jinyoung by his side for so long, the reason he had invested so much time and effort… perhaps it was all just the only way to utterly break him and drive him into agony.
“I don’t know about anyone else, but your brother probably went without any pain.”
“Ah…”
I hated that I felt relieved hearing those words. Going without pain meant his life had been snuffed out in a single blow. Yet, the thought that my brother wouldn’t have suffered or been afraid brought me a sense of peace.
Juhyeon bit his lower lip, trying to stifle his sobs, but it was no use. He let the grief pour out of him, a torrent of sorrow. Tears streamed down his face, soaking his collar and the floor beneath him.
“Can I… comfort you?”
Taemo’s voice was so uncertain Juhyeon couldn’t tell if he was muttering to himself or asking a question. But Juhyeon shook his head violently, rejecting the offer.
“N-no. Hic… I don’t want it.”
Despite his refusal, the door creaked open. It was the same door Juhyeon had always waited by for Dongwoo to appear, but now Lee Taemo was the one stepping through.
He was clearly someone who didn’t belong in a place like this. Yet, strangely, he walked in as if he’d finally found his own home. One of his shoulders was soaked through, though he must have been carrying an umbrella.
“I said no! Get out! Get out of here!”
Juhyeon grabbed whatever was within reach and threw it blindly—from a plastic bag stuffed with cash to a remote control that no longer worked. Even though the objects hit with a heavy thud, Lee Taemo didn’t complain of pain or tell him to stop. He simply kept walking, his steps steady and focused on Juhyeon, who was huddled in the darkness, his face a mess of tears. With nowhere left to retreat, Juhyeon pressed his back against the wall, its wallpaper peeling away in strips.
“I told you… don’t come any closer…”
Despite Juhyeon’s desperate refusals, Lee Taemo didn’t stop. He lowered himself, bending one knee to bring their eyes level for the first time in a long time. The familiar scent brushed against Juhyeon’s nose, and his heart hammered in his chest—a reflexive, ingrained response. Even in this wretched situation, he couldn’t ignore the way his heart still beat for the man.
Juhyeon squeezed his eyes shut in misery. A single tear, clinging to his lashes, finally fell.
“…”
The hand, still wrapped in bandages, slowly closed the distance. It moved with agonizing slowness, as if to reassure him not to be afraid. Rain-slicked fingertips brushed Juhyeon’s wet hair back. A shiver ran down his spine at the touch—so soft, so delicate. As Juhyeon trembled, the hand shifted to tap his flushed cheek. Taemo’s searing heat seeped into his skin, which was already burning and drenched.
“I promised I’d get you out of this room.”
The voice clung to his ear, thicker and more suffocating than the heavy, humid air of the monsoon season. Who did Lee Taemo make that promise to? Juhyeon didn’t need to ask to know it was Dongwoo.
“I told him I’d keep any promise I made on Woo Juhyeon’s behalf, even if it cost me my life.”
“…”
“Let’s go.”
Juhyeon’s head bowed low, his sobs shaking his entire frame. Even the simple act of exhaling felt like a struggle as tears streamed down his face. How do I breathe? How do I blink? The grief overflowed so violently that he forgot the most basic, instinctual functions of living.
“My hand hurts,” he managed, his voice thick. “Have a little pity on me.”
“Ah…”
Playing on my sympathy… That’s such a Woo Juhyeon thing to do. Why are we so similar, even in this?
A large hand reached out, settling on Juhyeon’s slumped shoulders. He let himself be pulled up, too weak to resist the gentle guidance. After complaining about his hand, he couldn’t even muster the strength to fight back. His vision was so blurred he couldn’t see his own feet. A hazy, disorienting sensation washed over him, as if he were walking underwater.
Just as he crossed the threshold of the broken door, Juhyeon’s feet came to a dead halt, pulled back by a strange, heart-wrenching reluctance. The thought that Dongwoo would be left all alone in that narrow, sweltering, pitch-black room seized him. Sobs clawed at his throat. Juhyeon trembled, fighting to stay put.
“N-no. I can’t go, I won’t go.”
“Woo Juhyeon.”
Despite Juhyeon’s desperate resistance, Taemo refused to let go of his wrist. He held on like a man who absolutely had to get Woo Juhyeon out of here.
“What about my brother? What’s he supposed to do? How can I leave him alone!”
“Let’s go.”
“Hyung, he’s still in there! I can’t leave him!”
Juhyeon squeezed his eyes shut and screamed. The sound of his own voice, choked with sobs, cut through the air more sharply than the rain drumming against the dilapidated house. He struggled, shaking his wrist where Taemo held him, but he was no match for the older man’s strength.
Clenching his fists, Juhyeon swung wildly.
Thud. Thud.
He beat his fists against Taemo’s shoulder and chest, fighting desperately. He aimed for the exact spots Taemo had once shown him—the collarbone and the area below the sternocleidomastoid muscle. He put his full weight into the blows, but Taemo didn’t even flinch.
“Fuck, I said no! Let go!”
When pulling away proved useless, Juhyeon threw his entire weight forward, slamming into Taemo as if trying to embrace him. With his eyes still shut tight, Juhyeon lost his balance and stumbled. The moment his foot slipped off the porch, he felt a pair of arms wrap around him, pulling him close.
“Ugh, hic…”
The two of them tumbled down into the pouring rain. Even as they fell, Taemo absorbed the entire impact, sparing Juhyeon from the brunt of the fall.
Despite the torrential downpour, Lee Taemo never took his eyes off him. His dark, deep gaze remained piercingly clear even in the shadows. Seeing him sopping wet made Juhyeon’s stomach churn with rage all over again.
“You fucking bastard, you piece of shit! You lied to me, you played with me…!”
Juhyeon screamed, his voice raw. He clenched his trembling fists and raised them high. He should have just slammed them down on Taemo’s face, but for some reason, he couldn’t move. His heart wavered under that steady, unwavering gaze.
“…Fuck! Hic…”
Juhyeon collapsed right onto Taemo. The immediate embrace of the arms wrapping around his shoulders left him with no choice but to sob uncontrollably.
“So that was why, wasn’t it? That’s why you were so good to me. Because you felt sorry for me. Because you pitied me.”
A large hand cradled the back of Juhyeon’s head as he gasped through his tears. Even though it wouldn’t stop the monsoon rain, Taemo wrapped his bandaged hand around Juhyeon’s head.
“You had other feelings… and I… I didn’t even know…”
How pathetic and laughable Woo Juhyeon must have looked, reacting to every touch, every bit of attention, every glance. It was miserable to think that he had been the one waiting for Lee Taemo to reveal the secret first, all this time. Every drop of rain that hit his back felt like a fresh pang of pain.
“We were messed up from the start. I thought we had to untangle everything completely before we could start over.”
“Ah, hic…”
“We have to resolve this first. Only then will there be no more revenge, no more guilt—nothing left between us.”
The low, confessing voice tickled Juhyeon’s ear. Juhyeon buried his forehead in Taemo’s chest and squeezed his eyes shut. His entire body was drenched in sorrow. Feeling Taemo’s heart beating just as fast as his own, he bit his lower lip hard.
“I just wanted us to be Lee Taemo and Woo Juhyeon.”
The potato chips left on the table every night, the steaming bowls of fried rice, the rough hand that ruffled his hair… The memories of the clumsy affection Taemo had shown him surfaced one by one.
“It’s my fault. I was too scared. I kept putting it off because I didn’t have the courage to tell you.”
“…”
“That’s why you’re sad.”
Juhyeon squeezed his eyes shut again. He could no longer tell if the rain or his tears were wetting his face.
Juhyeon knew it too. He knew Lee Taemo wasn’t the one at fault. Taemo was just another victim who had barely managed to muster the courage to act. The true villain was Seo Jinyoung, who lived a comfortable life after killing someone. And Juhyeon was the one who had taken Taemo into his heart, simply because Taemo had reached out to him for revenge.
“Hngh, ugh…”
The monsoon rain fell relentlessly, a deafening roar. It fell so that those who had lost their families, their hope, and their way—those who hadn’t even been able to cry—could feel each other’s warmth and weep for a very long time. Beneath the rain, the two of them let their tears flow freely.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
After being caught in the rain like that, there was no way they’d be fine. Even after returning home, taking medicine, and falling asleep, Juhyeon groaned in pain from the early hours of the morning. A hand never left his side, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead and cupping his cheek to check his fever.
Juhyeon, who had been suffering from a headache and chills, finally fell into a deep sleep. In his dream, he felt no pain, no heat, and no sorrow. He could even see the face he had missed so desperately. It was Dongwoo who swung open the door to his broken-down single-room apartment and peeked inside.
Hyung?
He looked just as he had at seventeen. The youthful Dongwoo was now shorter than Juhyeon, and their builds were similar. He was sure Dongwoo had been much taller, but it seemed the long absence had distorted his memories.
What are you doing? Hurry up and come out. I told you we’d eat outside.
Juhyeon followed Dongwoo, who beckoned him casually, as if entranced. Outside, it was spring, with a warm and fragrant breeze blowing. He was certain it had been a tedious rainy season without a single ray of sunlight. With every step they took, cherry blossom petals scattered beautifully in the air.
The two of them ate, then wandered through the department store. They held up clothes for each other, picking out things that would look good, giggling and teasing one another. When they walked into a cafe, Dongwoo looked so awkward and out of place that I snapped several photos of his funny expression.
“Aren’t you spending too much?”
“I’ve got plenty left. I’ve saved up a shitload of money, you know?”
I shot back with a smug grin, and Dongwoo gave a small smile. You’re doing great, he seemed to mutter under his breath.
Time flew by unusually fast. Still, I poured everything I’d wanted to do for Dongwoo into this day. I handed him the keys to a motorcycle, bought him a high-end phone, and took him to a salon to trim his perpetually frizzy hair. Even as I swiped my card over and over, I didn’t regret a single cent.
My heart swelled. It was such a small gesture, but I was just glad I could finally do something for him.
The two of them headed back to the cramped, one-room apartment in the hillside slum. I had a perfectly fine villa where I lived alone, but for some reason, our steps led us there instead. As they climbed the steep slope, they paused to catch their breath, clutching their sides. Then, just like when they were kids, they started shoving each other’s backs to hurry along.
“Wow. Is it just me, or is this fucking hard after all this time?” Dongwoo muttered, panting.
The moment they reached the apartment, he collapsed onto the narrow wooden porch, unable to even pull himself up. Juhyeon chuckled as he stepped over Dongwoo’s sprawled form and crossed the threshold into the room alone.
“Hyung, I wrote the hint for my apartment’s passcode here. Did you see it?”
“No? I haven’t looked. A hint?”
“Look. Try to guess it.”
Juhyeon flung open the wardrobe with an excited gesture. He yanked open the drawer below and pulled out a slip of paper. He quickly refolded and hid the long, rambling letter he’d written, thrusting forward only the note containing the hint to his apartment’s passcode.
“Hmm. What could it be? I’m trying to break into Woo Juhyeon’s place.”
Dongwoo hummed playfully as he held the paper aloft. He sprawled out on the floor, bending one leg and resting his ankle on the opposite knee—a familiar, habitual pose for him.
“Morning nap time…? Ah, do you mean the prayer time at Hope House?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
For the non-religious kids, prayer time was just a chance to close their eyes and catch up on lost sleep. Juhyeon figured Dongwoo would remember. He gave a thumbs-up in encouragement.
“8:20.”
“Exactly. That’s the passcode. It’s my brother’s place now, so you can just go in.”
“What about you?”
“Me? I also…”
I live there too, obviously. I was about to answer casually when my head started to spin. Wait, don’t I live there? It feels like I haven’t been there in ages, but why? My mind went completely blank. As I trailed off and stared blankly, Dongwoo shot up from his seat.
“Woo Juhyeon. You need to start eating properly.”
“…”
“You eat a lot, but you’re still so scrawny.”
0 Comments