Second Half Chapter 17

The two eyes beneath the hat slowly scanned Youngshin from head to toe. Those eyes, which caressed Youngshin meticulously from a place that felt both near and far, also took in the cut pieces of clothing strewn across the living room floor with great detail. The scissors cast aside after clawing the linoleum, and the paper bag torn to shreds beyond recognition.

“Go find Youngshin’s bag and phone and pack them up.”

Speaking to Sundeok, who stood guarding the rear, without even looking back, he finally shifted his gaze slowly toward Seokhoon. Overwhelmed by his aura, the man’s pale, blanched face faltered and retreated backward.

Youngshin watched the grip on the claw hammer in his hand tighten before turning his head away. He didn’t care whether Seokhoon was beaten to death or not; he was solely consumed by thoughts of his own situation.

It wasn’t the first or second time he had shown such a mess of a self to others. But today was different. Where had the days of numbness gone? He felt ashamed and humiliated, wanting only to run away. He wanted to cry, and he wanted to kill Seokhoon for making him look like this.

The sound of a heavy piece of iron slamming into the wall echoed—Clang. Following Seokhoon’s low groan, there was a sound like someone collapsing—Thud.

Youngshin gripped his trembling lip with his upper teeth. In an instant, the tremors spread to his chin and throughout his entire body. Those emotions and the state of Youngshin’s body only grew more volatile, like a seesaw, at the sound of the man’s low voice ringing through the house.

“This motherfucker, I should just smash his head in.”

Immense rage seemed to be loaded into the clipped words. Youngshin listened to the approaching footsteps and bowed his turned head deeply. He brought his two hands in front of his crotch and held them tight. In the corner of his vision, the man’s large feet wearing sneakers began to enter his sight.

Letting out a sigh first, he poked through the floor with his foot as if checking if there were any wearable clothes left. However, he soon stopped the movement, clicked his tongue, and began to briskly strip off the clothes he was wearing. After first taking off his thick puffer jacket and tossing it beside where Youngshin sat, he then pulled off the oversized hoodie that was large even on him—Whoosh. Then, he immediately pulled it over Youngshin’s head.

“Put your arms through.”

Youngshin, who had been sitting still and letting his body be moved as the man wished, did not let go of his tightly clenched hands even at the softly spoken words. At that, the man forcibly separated his hands and began to personally dress him, one arm at a time.

Since the garment was so oversized, the sleeves were long as well. Even with his arms fully extended, not a single fingertip poked out past the cuffs. More than that, because it was the clothes the man had been wearing all along, it was incredibly warm. His scent was completely embedded in it, creating the illusion that he was wearing the man’s own skin. It was no wonder he felt he had reclaimed his lost warmth.

The man put the jacket on Youngshin as well. Without any request, he dressed him from start to finish with his own hands. Even after the zipper was pulled all the way to his throat, Youngshin did not lift his head. He felt that if he saw the man’s eyes right now, something uncontrollable would happen.

A low sigh starting from the man’s mouth gathered at the bridge of Youngshin’s nose.

“Let’s just go like this for the bottom. The clothes are big, so it’ll be fine.”

He said, “Let’s go,” and slid his hands under Youngshin’s armpits, trying to lift the unmoving Youngshin up. For a moment, a certain feeling overcame Youngshin, and he ended up brushing the man’s touch away. The man seemed to hesitate for a very brief second, but soon pulled Youngshin up again in the same manner. As he did, he said as if coaxing and soothing him, “I get it, so let’s go.”

“Put strength in your feet. Or should I carry you?”

It was not a tone used to address a thirty-one-year-old adult. Youngshin shook his head while being held up by his hands. The large hoodie and jacket sagged downward the moment he stood, easily covering his private areas. A moment later, a hat was pulled deep over his head.

“No need to look to the side or up. You can just look at the floor as we go.”

Even though he himself was now wearing nothing but a black short-sleeved shirt unsuited for the cold winter, he had even given up his hat. The arm wrapped around Youngshin’s shoulders felt like a solid fortress. For a moment, Youngshin couldn’t believe himself for feeling a sudden urge to lean on him completely. On this twenty-five-year-old, this young, young man.

“Sundeok, did you find the phone?”

“Yes, hyung-nim. I found the bag and everything in the master bedroom and packed them. Should I take the crowbar too?”

“Leave that for that guy to use.”

Cha Moogang led Youngshin out, keeping him pressed tightly against his side, as he looked down at Yoo Seokhoon, who was still slumped on the floor.

“That’s for the door. This is as far as I’m going.”

The crowbar is a gift for you guys.

Youngshin looked neither to the side nor up; he only looked down from within Cha Moogang’s embrace. Firmly held by his arm, he passed the messily torn entrance and headed down the stairs. Wind leaked in through the wide-open gap below—Whoosh—but strangely, he didn’t feel cold.

Upon stepping outside the villa, blindingly bright sunlight pierced through the brim of his hat. Only then could Youngshin look up at his face. But perhaps because of the light, he couldn’t see his face clearly.

“Sundeok, you drive my car. Tell the boys below to bring yours later.”

Cha Moogang spoke to Sundeok as he led the blinking Youngshin to his car. After putting Youngshin in the back seat and closing the door, he circled the car and got into the passenger seat.

“Did you tell Donggu to have everything cleared out?”

“Yes, hyung-nim. Everything is set up perfectly.”

“Then let’s go there.”

The car started. The intense sunlight that had been stinging his eyes was bouncing off the heavily tinted windows. Perhaps because of that, the man’s face was clearly visible to his two eyes.

The man looked back at Youngshin, who still couldn’t take his eyes off his face. He reached out, pulled the hat off, tossed it onto the front seat, and touched various places on Youngshin’s face with his fingertips.

“You were hit here. Hit here, too.”

“…”

He then stared intently into Youngshin’s eyes and murmured.

“I should have just taken you with me then. Luggage, you can just buy new things.”

“…”

He felt that this was the most clearly and the longest he had faced him since they met. But Youngshin couldn’t turn his gaze away. He didn’t know if it was because he wanted to understand everything about him—why he was approaching him to this extent, why he felt like a new person every time they met. Or rather, it was because he was caught. As if his face was bound tightly by invisible strings stretching from the man’s face, preventing him from turning his head anywhere but toward him.

For the first time since they met, the man turned his gaze away first. He tapped the shoulder of the driving Sundeok and spoke.

“Is the heater on all the way? This guy keeps shivering.”

“It’s set to the highest, sir.”

“Is it because I only put the top on him? Give me what you’re wearing.”

He wanted to say he wasn’t shivering because he was cold, but his mouth wouldn’t open. It was as if the nerves of all his sensory organs had crowded into the eyes watching him, leaving the other organs to lose their function, helpless.

Soon, Sundeok’s jacket, like a blanket, covered Youngshin’s legs completely. The man pulled Youngshin by the shoulder into his embrace and said:

“Come here. I’m cold, too.”

Only then could he take his eyes off the man’s face. Youngshin buried his face in his chest. The pressure of the hand gently pressing the back of his head wanted him to do exactly that. Youngshin followed his will compliantly, just as he had when he escaped that disgusting place and got into this car.

From the clothes he wore, from the embrace holding his body, the man’s scent seemed to encourage him toward comfort, so Youngshin couldn’t stop breathing it in. Come to think of it, the airway in his throat had opened wide before he knew it.

The car entered a villa district quite close to the city center. Passing by tall and short buildings built like mushrooms after rain, the place they finally arrived at was the red-brick “Hyosung Housing, Building A.” That four-story old building had Building B to its right, and Building C and Building D directly behind it.

Since there was no parking lot attached to each building, Sundeok parked the car on the nearby street. As soon as the car stopped, Cha Moogang hopped out—Whoosh—crossed to the other side, and opened the door on Youngshin’s side. Youngshin got out of the car, drawn by his hand, crossed the street, passed through the glass entrance, and climbed the stairs.