A Scorching Day Chapter 54

The continuously rising fragrance filled the funeral hall thickly like cigarette smoke. The mourners who had offered flowers turned toward the chief mourners.

The chief mourners lined up beside him bowed politely in return. The youngest chief mourner, mixed among the men, also knelt down.

Receiving the mourners who poured in incessantly until late at night was almost laborious. But Ki Joon silently kept his post like a machine. He bowed countless times, unable to count how many dozens, and lowered his head to each adult who offered handshakes and words of comfort.

Ki Joon’s hollow face looked as if it would shatter at the slightest touch. The elders, seeing Ki Joon’s face, offered their condolences, saying his grief must be immense.

Ki Joon listened to their words with politeness but without any emotion. This was a world where every word and action could become a weakness to cut and scratch each other with. His own outburst at the hospital just a while ago had surely already been reported to them without omission.

The procedures following his father’s death proceeded smoothly, like flowing water. As if everyone had been waiting for this day for a long time.

That very fact drove Ki Joon crazy. For the past year, his father had been unconscious, but his vital signs had never significantly wavered. That was why he had waited with hope.

But everyone accepted his father’s death too easily. He held on for a year, that’s long enough, it’s time for him to rest, how can the leadership seat be left vacant for so long…. The murmuring voices of the elders pierced like sharp needles.

The same people who had initially agreed that he was such a strong man, he’d surely shake it off and get up by the latest, were now saying something else.

Ki Joon glared with bloodshot eyes and spat out.

‘I want an autopsy.’

Unfortunately, his words carried little weight. Only a few elders sympathized with the boy who had lost his only remaining blood relative, saying ‘It must be so hard to accept….’

But since the prevailing opinion was that one couldn’t cut into the leader’s body without a clear reason, Ki Joon, still legally a minor, wasn’t even considered.

‘My son will inherit the company that bears my name.’

The deceased used to openly say that even in front of the board of directors. But now, Ki Joon couldn’t even decide on his father’s autopsy, let alone the company. Whether it was resentment or doubt that remained, Ki Joon’s desperate claims were dismissed as nothing more than the immature grief or impulsive rebellion of a boy who had lost his father.

The boy, whose body was fully grown to match any adult, was still just a child here. Ki Joon was helplessly swept along by the massive current created by the adults who had divided up the power his father had built.

Since it was the first day of the funeral and it started late at night, it wasn’t a time when mourners would normally come. But above all, in a world that valued visible solidarity, the mourning continued without interruption. Though the leader had fallen, the organization ‘Cheonghyeon’ and Cheonghyeon Construction remained intact, and those with clear interests to gain came rushing in, half-asleep, to show their faces.

As dawn broke with a pale light, the mourners gradually thinned out. The men wearing armbands, including Ki Woohyun, went outside in a group, cigarettes in their mouths. Manager Hwang cautiously approached Ki Joon, who was standing vacantly at his post.

“Joon-ah. Have a few bites to eat. Okay?”

Ki Joon stood without any response. His face was expressionless, like a person whose soul had completely left.

“I know. Asking you to eat at a time like this… it’s cruel. But still, once it’s fully light, more mourners will come. Times like these are when you need to keep your head straight.”

Manager Hwang practically forced Ki Joon to sit at a corner table. Food was laid out in abundance before Ki Joon, who sat blankly. A thick bear-like hand reached over and forcibly placed a spoon in Ki Joon’s hand.

“Eat. Come on, even just a little. If it won’t go down, at least roll some rice in soup and swallow it quickly. You’ll collapse like this.”

He even personally scooped up a spoonful of rice and soaked it in soup for him. Ki Joon stared blankly at Manager Hwang’s actions for a moment, then silently picked up his spoon. He felt no appetite whatsoever, but he forced down a couple of spoonfuls as he was told.

Ki Joon eventually put down his spoon without even finishing half the bowl. Manager Hwang, who had been sitting silently across from him, looked around. Only after thoroughly confirming that no one was listening did he speak heavily.

“And Joon-ah.”

“…Yes.”

“Don’t ever do that again.”

His face dark, he lowered his voice even further.

“Executive Director Ki… he’ll likely take over as President. That’s the mood among the directors. It’ll probably be temporary, but….”

“…”

“So Joon-ah, don’t act out anymore. You know better than anyone how scary this world is. Okay?”

“Manager Hwang.”

Ki Joon, who had been listening quietly, cut him off. A dry, parched laugh scattered across his rough face.

“I’m now a complete orphan, so you don’t have to clean up after me anymore.”

“…What?”

“Stop looking after me now… and go your own way, Uncle.”

Manager Hwang set down his soju glass with a hardened face. Thud. The sound cut coldly across the table.

“You little bastard. Are you done talking now? You ungrateful little…”

“…”

“Am I only that much to you?”

His fierce face contorted in an instant. Veins bulged and throbbed over his thick neck. The boy sitting before him was nearly a grown young man, but in Manager Hwang’s eyes, he still clearly saw the toddling child who used to call out ‘Uncle, Uncle.’

Ki Joon received his gaze silently for a moment. Two blazing pairs of eyes clashed. But only for a moment; soon Ki Joon dropped his gaze with a sigh. Then he rubbed his face with his dry, rough palms.

“…I’m sorry.”

“No. You’re having a hard enough time as it is.”

Manager Hwang let out a sigh as if pressing down. Ki Joon, refusing his attempt to pour his own drink, filled Manager Hwang’s glass instead.

“But… I’m serious.”

“…”

“You could die too, Uncle. You know that.”

“What do you really take me for… I haven’t lived my life with so little pride.”

He spat out with a fierce face. Ki Joon let out a wry laugh. From childhood until now, Manager Hwang had always been the most reliable and admirable adult in Ki Joon’s eyes.

“You have your wife and Hyeonsong too. He’s starting middle school soon…. You should think about your family too.”

“You’re my family too, you punk.”

“…”

“If you’re going to say useless things like that, just finish your food.”

Manager Hwang had worked alongside his father since his youngest days, and was his most loyal subordinate. So Ki Joon’s advice—to not cling to useless sentiment and coldly pursue practical interests—could only sound like an insult to him, enough to make him curse at Ki Joon with words he’d never used when his father was alive.

Not only his father, but Ki Joon too considered him family. At his graduation and entrance ceremonies, Ki Joon had taken photos holding bouquets with Manager Hwang instead of his busy father.

Whenever the organization was threatened, it was Manager Hwang who stayed by young Ki Joon’s side providing close protection; it was also Manager Hwang who fretted over Ki Joon’s brief bout of waywardness as a immature middle schooler as if it were his own problem.

But precisely because he was so precious, paradoxically, Ki Joon had to push him away. He never wanted to see another precious person die protecting him again. Especially if that person was his only remaining ally.

“Just lie down for 5 minutes. Just 5 minutes, okay? If anyone looks for you, I’ll say you went to the bathroom.”

After clearing the table, Manager Hwang promptly pushed Ki Joon into the resting room for the chief mourners. Ki Joon stepped into the empty room.

After leaning against the wall for a moment, he slid down and sat down on the spot without even turning on the light. Only one name surfaced in his complicated mind.

‘He’s probably asleep…’

He pulled out the phone he had kept in his pocket for a long time. Checking the messages, his perpetually hardened face softened slightly.

[Let’s hold on just a little… longer. I love you.]

I love you too…. Ki Joon muttered with a faint smile. He read the message on the glowing screen over and over again. Gazing at it tenderly as if it were Gawon himself, he let out a sigh, tilted his head back, and closed his eyes.

He missed Gawon so much. The time they’d spent together yesterday felt like a fantasy. He ached with longing. The quiet, clear smile, the way he chattered excitedly, his face as he ate and drank like a squirrel, the warmth of his hand as he squeezed it firmly over and over, saying it would be alright.

That kid had worn an expression Ki Joon had never seen before, standing in front of the sea. How could he make such a face with such a beautiful sight before his eyes? In that moment, Ki Joon had felt an overwhelming fear that made his heart sink.

But. Yoon Gawon, who had said he wanted to become sea foam, speaking with a fragile, breakable look, now smiled and said he wanted to live with him. Whiter than the crashing waves. More vivid than the blazing sunset.

How could he possibly describe the overwhelming joy he felt then? The callow feelings that began with his foolish first impression, mistaking him for a kindred spirit, had now become so deep and dense. He loved Yoon Gawon more today than yesterday, and tomorrow he would surely love him even more than today.

That kid had thanked him for becoming his will to live, but it was actually Ki Joon who should be giving thanks. Because the only future he had was Yoon Gawon. The wish he wanted to pray for with all his life was only Gawon.

I really have only you now, Gawon-ah…

Pressing down on his overflowing feelings was especially difficult today. Ki Joon, as if possessed, picked up his phone before reluctantly putting it back down.

It was almost 6 AM. Let him sleep a little longer… he must be tired. Let’s wait another 2 hours, no, 3 hours, then call…. As he was soothing himself, pressing his rough eyelids with his fingers, the door burst open and a wave of unpleasant perfume mixed with cigarette smoke flooded in.