A Scorching Day Chapter 23

His ears were muffled. Because of the pitch-black darkness, nothing was visible. The scent that had lingered at the tip of his nose, and the snoring of the men that occasionally drifted from beyond the room—all of it had stopped.

He felt a fierce presence. At the same time, a weight pressing down ruthlessly over his nose and mouth overwhelmed Ki Joon. The young Ki Joon, exhausted and sunk in slumber, couldn’t resist the sudden threat. No matter how much he flailed his limbs, his body wouldn’t respond.

‘Keok… keu, heok…‘

The more he breathed, the more merciless the weight became. With every gasp, the soft stuffing of the pillow pressed against his face without a gap. A feeling of helplessness surged in like a giant tidal wave, pulling at Ki Joon’s body.

A ringing tinnitus echoed in his ears. The suffocatingly pouring darkness choked Ki Joon’s throat. Though he could see, hear, or feel nothing, Ki Joon’s instincts, like sharp tentacles, pinpointed the man trying to harm him. It was the man who always made him shiver for no reason whenever he was around.

Please save me. Uncle, please save me…. Young Ki Joon’s plea couldn’t form into words. The desperate begging for his life filled his mouth.

But all that escaped from beneath the pillow were choking, gasping sounds. Ki Joon thrashed desperately with all his arms and legs. The rosary wrapped around his wrist scraped harshly against the floor.

‘Joon-ah.‘

At that moment, he heard his mother’s call. It was as if someone had rewound time. His consciousness, which had been becoming an empty, vacuum-like world, sharpened in an instant.

Ki Joon opened his eyes wide. The pillow that had been pressing down on his face was gone, and Ki Joon was back to two days before his mother’s funeral.

It was the scene of the attack.

‘…Run away. …Right now, run away.‘

His mother commanded in a fading voice, a knife lodged in her neck and side. His trembling legs gave way. Hearing his mother’s voice, covered in blood and rolling in the mud, Ki Joon couldn’t move an inch.

The weight that had pressed on his face moments ago now poured over his entire body. Like a heavy anaconda, the weight crushing his whole body was something young Ki Joon simply couldn’t shake off.

His mother’s eyes slowly closed. The blood flowing from her body pooled in a dirty puddle. The child, so small and weak, couldn’t even manage his own body, let alone protect anyone, and could only bear witness to his mother’s gruesome end.

Ki Joon screamed and wailed. He crawled, banging his forehead against the filthy mud floor, and crawled again. No, he tried to crawl. He desperately wanted to go to his mother.

But still, he couldn’t move. Ki Joon couldn’t advance even an inch toward his mother. The dirty mud on the floor was thick and heavy, as if it would swallow his entire body. The bog-like, softened earth opened its maw wide, trying to devour Ki Joon.

At that moment.

The phone rang.

His eyelids flew open. The loud ringing of the phone, which had rung two or three times, fully awakened his consciousness. The intermittent nightmare was abruptly cut off. It was a dramatic awakening, as if released from a curse.

“…Fuck.”

He muttered a curse in a terribly hoarse voice. Ki Joon sat up in the darkness. His entire body was drenched in sweat.

He rubbed his face roughly with his palms. He got out of bed and left the room. Only after filling a glass with water and gulping it down did his head clear a little.

Haa—, letting out a long sigh, he walked back into the room. If he could just pet a cat, he might calm down a bit. He didn’t want to force Sunny, who was lying still on the cat tower resting, to come down. Ki Joon sighed and turned on the light. On nights like this, he couldn’t sleep for fear of having that dream again.

Come to think of it, the phone had rung—what was it?

A phone call at dawn wasn’t terribly surprising in itself. Occasionally, drunk older guys or classmates would call. Asking him to come out and hang out. Traces from when he’d hung out with them a few times as an immature middle schooler still lingered.

It would have been one of those trivial contacts. Checking the missed call without much thought, Ki Joon’s eyes widened.

“…Yoon Gawon?”

He was dumbfounded. This was a completely unexpected name. Was he still half-asleep? Ki Joon rubbed his eyes vigorously and stared at the screen again. It wasn’t a dream.

[Gawon-ah, did you call by any chance?]

He considered calling right away, but thinking it might have been a mistake, he sent a message first. But a reply came immediately.

Yoon Gawon

[Ah… sorry]

Yoon Gawon

[I pressed it by mistake.]

Ki Joon’s gaze stopped on the clock displayed at the top left. 2:46 AM. What reason could there be to accidentally press the call button, and specifically his number, at this hour?

Could he have been looking at their messages until this time? Thinking that made him feel a little better all of a sudden. It was as if a ventilation window had been opened in his dark, suffocating heart.

[Can I call you?]

He asked without hesitation. A few seconds later, a call came in from Yoon Gawon. They had been exchanging messages consistently, but this was the first time they’d talked on the phone like this.

—Sorry. I woke you up, didn’t I.

“No, I was awake.”

—…At this hour?

“What about you?”

A single strand of a small, thin voice. That alone was enough to gently release the tense muscles throughout his body. Ki Joon smiled faintly.

—I was… just… doing something. What about you?

“Uh…”

He could have made up any number of excuses. Just couldn’t sleep. Was doing something. But after scratching his head briefly, Ki Joon slowly moistened his lips with his tongue.

The thick air of the deep night, the languid fatigue wrapping around his entire body, the feeling of being isolated from the world with only the two of them. All of it guided Ki Joon toward honesty.

“Actually, I was sleeping. …But I’m actually grateful you woke me up.”

—Why?

“I was having a nightmare.”

—…

“It’s okay. It happens sometimes.”

A brief silence passed. It was so quiet that he could even hear the sound of Gawon parting his lips. The moist, small sound and faint breaths were transmitted clearly through the phone.

—It must have been scary.

The short words flowed into Ki Joon. At that moment, Ki Joon let out a small gasp, Ah.

Yes, that must have been it. All this time. An emotion he himself hadn’t even acknowledged—Yoon Gawon had seen through it so simply.

“…Yeah. A little. I guess it was scary.”

—…

“But I’m okay now. Thanks to your call.”

Ki Joon hid all that agitation and turmoil and grinned. He didn’t want to reveal it. The darkly rotting inside of him. He wanted to show Yoon Gawon only the good things, the fragrant things.

—Ki Joon.

“Yeah.”

—…If… I hope it never happens, but.

“Yeah.”

—If you have another nightmare in the future, you can call me.

“…”

—It’d be hard for me to wake you up by chance like today… so you do it. Talking about it will make you feel better.

The pale, neat voice issued a command. Hearing that voice, Ki Joon had a premonition. That from now on, he would helplessly obey this small, frail person’s commands.

“…Yeah.”

The warmth slowly flowing in covered the mud stained with fatigue. The sharp smell of blood gradually faded. The pitch-black darkness that had covered Ki Joon receded.

His sharpened senses gradually softened. A cozy feeling, as if the cells frozen in tension were gently relaxing. Just one strand of Yoon Gawon’s small voice made his entire large body feel as if it were being embraced, warm and snug.

“I will. …Thank you.”

He answered in a suppressed voice. Feeling that his hoarse tone might reveal the darkness of his recent dreams, Ki Joon cleared his throat. Then he forced a brighter tone and asked.

“What are you doing awake? Surely you weren’t having a nightmare too.”

—…I couldn’t sleep.

“Really? Hmm. Why couldn’t you sleep?”

—…

“Our Gawon, should I come over and sing you a lullaby or something.”

Ki Joon picked up a silly joke and chuckled softly. But there was no response. At the taut silence, Ki Joon blinked. Something was wrong.

“…Gawon-ah.”

—…

“Is something wrong?”

—…Ah, no.

Suddenly, a small breath crumbled weakly. Like a wave breaking against a rock. Hoo, the sharp inhale carried warmth in it.

Without a doubt, Yoon Gawon was crying.

“Yoon Gawon.”

—…

“Gawon-ah.”

Ki Joon sprang up from his seat. His body moved on its own, as if controlled by someone. His hand movements were urgent as he strode over and snatched the jacket hanging on the wall. Thump, thump—he came down the stairs from the second floor, imploring Gawon.

“I’m coming over right now.”

—…Huh?

“Wait 15 minutes—no, just 10 minutes. Don’t fall asleep.”

—Wait. Wait a minute, Ki Joon. What are you… what are you talking about.

How could you, do you know what time it is, it’s okay so you don’t have to come… his stammering voice of refusal was already soaked with moisture. He hadn’t been mistaken after all.

Ki Joon hung up and frantically opened the taxi app. But perhaps because it was so late, he couldn’t get a taxi.

His deliberation was short. Ki Joon dashed back into the room and pulled out the bike keys and helmet he’d buried in the corner of a drawer.

It took less than 3 minutes to start the bike parked in the very back of the garage. He roughly brushed off the dust that had piled up white from not riding it in a long time, mounted the saddle, and unhesitatingly twisted the accelerator.

The loud engine roar echoed through the quiet alley. The serene air of the early morning rushed at Ki Joon all at once. He cut through the empty roads quickly, faster. The faster he drove, the calmer his head became, but his chest seethed with worry.

The voice that had sniffled and drawn in trembling breaths was lodged in his ears like shattered fragments. He had seen that teary-eyed expression before, so he knew how heartbreakingly that kid cried. Why on earth was Yoon Gawon crying at this hour of the night?