Struggle Chapter 133

No one knows what happened.

∞ ∞ ∞

Nanyoung woke to a scent tickling the tip of his nose. As he blinked dazedly, various sounds also reached him. Only then, startled, did he jerk his upper body upright. A blanket he had definitely never covered himself with slid down in a ripple at Nanyoung’s movement.

In the kitchen stood Taerok. The fabric of his T-shirt clung to his back, revealing the silhouette of his spine. His shoulder blades stood pleasingly, rippling with his every movement.

Nanyoung clutched the blanket. Since he had no memory of covering himself, someone must have draped it over him, and if so, it was obvious who. When had he come home? Anxious that he might have drooled, Nanyoung hurriedly wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. There was nothing to feel. A relief.

“If you’re up, come here.”

Taerok turned around and set a bowl down on the dining table as he spoke.

“I made kimchi fried rice.”

Even a fried egg was beautifully perched on top.

Nanyoung wasn’t so ill-mannered as to slip right into his room from here. He rose hesitantly and sat down in his seat. Picking up his spoon, he gauged Taerok’s mood and asked.

“It’s still daytime….”

“I didn’t have an afternoon schedule.”

“You usually came in late though.”

“Doesn’t seem that way lately.”

“That was before….”

“These days I come in early. Someone asked if I had a pot of honey hidden away at home.”

“…”

“So I told them I had something similar.”

He felt like he’d get indigestion. Nanyoung started by gulping down water.

“After you eat, let’s go out for a bit.”

“Together?”

“Yeah. To buy a tree.”

“But you said you don’t bother with things like that….”

“There’s a kid. In a house with a kid, I do bother.”

Who that kid was was clear. Nanyoung wore a slightly pouty expression. Naturally, children hate being treated like a child the most.

“I’ll be an adult soon. There are really only a few days left.”

“I know.”

Noticing Nanyoung’s unmoving spoon, Taerok pushed the bowl toward him as if urging.

“Because I’m waiting for it more than you are.”

But how could he nonchalantly eat fried rice after hearing those words? Lee Taerok was truly an indifferent person.

∞ ∞ ∞

On the day he confirmed his college acceptance, Nanyoung contacted his family abroad and then sat there blankly. Until then, his family had been saying it was okay even if he didn’t get in, that he could just come there and live with them. What Nanyoung had wished was that they would place a bit of expectation on him, not say things like that. A late child born from a geriatric pregnancy, a premature infant so small he went into an incubator as soon as he was born. Nanyoung had been praised merely for being alive, but the more he was, rather than growing spoiled, Nanyoung felt his own existence becoming transparent.

Amidst all that, Taerok simply asked, as if provoking him, saying he could do it.

‘You said you could do it. Are you worried now that it’s come to this?’ in that characteristic, faintly sneering tone of his.

At those words, Nanyoung grew stubborn, fuming for a good while, then suddenly burst out laughing. Because he didn’t feel transparent.

So, without any particular joy at his acceptance, Nanyoung just stared blankly at his phone, then made up his mind and placed a call. The dial tone rang three times. The moment he thought he’d hang up if it rang one more time, Taerok’s voice came through. A faint, murmuring noise mingled in the background.

— Yeah, what.

He never answered the phone warmly. Nanyoung almost said he called for no reason, then looked at the screen and steeled himself.

“I got accepted.”

— Hold on.

His surroundings seemed noisy so he couldn’t hear well. The courage he’d mustered to speak felt pointless. Soon, as if Taerok had moved somewhere, it grew quiet.

“Okay. Now say it again.”

Taerok lit the cigarette in his mouth and spoke again.

On the other end, Nanyoung was quiet. He was extremely busy but could willingly wait. Nanyoung didn’t know. He didn’t know that Lee Taerok, who always answered the phone bluntly, in fact received private contact during work hours only through his secretary. He didn’t know that Nanyoung was the only personal relationship Taerok had whose contact information the secretary didn’t even know.

“Say it, Lee Nanyoung.”

— I got accepted.

Taerok exhaled smoke and laughed.

“Congratulations. You’ve become my junior.”

— …

“Didn’t you know? I’m a graduate of that school too.”

Hoo, Taerok tapped off the ash.

“We can go to alumni gatherings together later on.”

— Today… what time are you coming in?

“Today I’m busy. A good day, but you’ll have to eat alone.”

Taerok leaned his head against the door. Since Nanyoung wasn’t with him, he would be wearing a disappointed expression to his heart’s content. It pictured itself in his mind. Chuckling, Taerok spoke as if granting a favor.

“Call your friends over, you can even have a sleepover. Eat something good, and drink in moderation.”

— Ah, I don’t drink.

Nanyoung snapped it sulkily and hung up.

Taerok finished the rest of his cigarette and shook his head, laughing.

∞ ∞ ∞

Nanyoung called Sim Suhwan. To think that the only person he could call a friend was Sim Suhwan. Even as he scrolled through his contacts, a certain cynicism washed over him.

Fortunately, the ever-optimistic Sim Suhwan said he’d come right away. In Sim Suhwan’s hand when he arrived at the house was alcohol he’d secretly taken from his father’s collection.

“Why is there so much?”

“We can just try a little of each. Whoa, what’s this? The tree is huge.”

In the end, Taerok had brought in a tree in time for Christmas. It was so full-scale, from the twinkling lights to the various ornaments, that Nanyoung had been rather bewildered, and ever since, he would often find himself staring blankly at the tree. When he looked at it, Taerok came to mind. Even though his uncle didn’t resemble those sparkling, pretty things at all.

When he was doing that, it felt as though no worries or concerns would arise at all, so Nanyoung didn’t take the tree down even after Christmas passed. Until January 1st when the year turned. As for Taerok, whether he knew or didn’t know that Nanyoung would endlessly space out looking at the tree, he neither suggested taking it down nor told him to.

“We’re having pizza, right?”

Nanyoung asked, feeling suddenly self-conscious because the tree, lingering past its season like an attachment, seemed just like his own heart.

Sim Suhwan suggested they order jokbal with the pizza. Thanks to that, the spread became an amount too large to be called a portion for two.

Sim Suhwan was a late child, like Nanyoung. Their parents were also fairly close. Thanks to these various commonalities and Sim Suhwan’s uniquely optimistic personality, this relationship was able to continue even after Nanyoung had rejected his confession. Nanyoung knew very well too that this was thanks to Sim Suhwan. He was grateful.

As grateful as he was, it was hard to duck out today. Nanyoung drank whatever Sim Suhwan mixed for him, liquor into tonic water. It was sweet and tasty, so it went down easily. To a frightening degree.

“Your uncle is late.”

“Yeah….”

An answer somewhere between ‘yeah’ and ‘mm’ trailed off. Drinking as smoothly as it went down, his face had grown red and intoxication rose. Nanyoung rubbed his face and answered again.

“Yeah. Late….”

Sim Suhwan, who had eaten and drunk a greater amount than Nanyoung, got up, swaying.

“Then I’ll wash up first?”

“Mm.”

Nanyoung answered, slowly sliding his head down along his arm.

Sim Suhwan was the type to wash up for a long time. While he was washing, Nanyoung, unaware he was falling asleep himself, was drifting off as if letting go of a string.

And the owner of the house returned too.

At the sound of water, Taerok presumed Nanyoung was washing up. Having had an especially large number of tiring matters today, he let out a heavy breath and loosened his necktie. And what he came upon was Nanyoung, whom he had assumed was in the bathroom.

“…”

There was a smell of grease. It wasn’t a smell Taerok liked. And a sweetish smell of alcohol.

Since he had come in as usual, he hadn’t thought much of the unfamiliar shoes in the entryway and let it slide; it seemed he had called friends over. There wasn’t even a need to wonder how many. There were only two glasses and two sets of spoons and chopsticks.

“No friends, I see, my dear nephew.”

He had thought Nanyoung was the lonely type, but perhaps not. After all, he had never seen or heard of Nanyoung agonizing over friend troubles. And it was apparent just by looking. That when alone, Nanyoung appeared lonely, and indeed had an emptiness in his heart, yet was not tormented by it, but instead simply lived alongside it.

Taerok propped his arm beside Nanyoung’s face. Then tilted his head. The whole face was tinged pink. Seemed he had a constitution that could never make him a drinker or a seasoned tippler. When he gauged Nanyoung’s temperature with the back of his hand, it was quite warm. As if the cold of Taerok’s hand felt good, Nanyoung made a phoo sound, satisfied.