A Scorching Day Chapter 62

Ki Joon’s weary gaze swept over Jooram’s battered state. The moment the bloodied, bruised face came into view, Ki Joon’s eyes grew even sharper.

It was revulsion at the current situation. Disgust at himself for being here, doing this. But at Ki Joon’s icy expression, Jooram, frozen pale, clasped her hands together and begged desperately.

“M-Managing Director. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please, don’t, don’t send me out. I won’t run. I’ll do well.”

“…”

“M-My mother… she’s fighting an illness… I couldn’t cover the hospital bills, so I started this work… and my little sister, she said she couldn’t take it anymore and started looking into this line of work too… so I had to stop her… that’s why I went out…”

“…”

“I really won’t run… I have nowhere else to go… so please… Managing Director.”

Jooram sobbed as she spoke. On her defenseless, barely covered white skin, wounds and bruises marked her here and there.

Ki Joon had known her circumstances since she came in. She had walked in on her own to raise money for her family’s medical bills, and as she herself said, Jooram had never once shown any sign of trying to run.

If she ran, she’d get beaten; if she got beaten, she couldn’t work for days. Then the debt accumulated in that short time would fall squarely on her own shoulders. Knowing full well that vicious cycle, what this girl had risked her life to protect was her family.

‘Fuck.’

The curse slipped out involuntarily. Ki Joon closed his eyes deeply and opened them again.

“Give me your sister’s account number.”

“I, I’m really sorry… Huh?”

Jooram, who had been sobbing and begging, looked dazed. He transferred an amount amounting to tens of millions of won into the account she stammered out. In fact, it was enough that Jooram wouldn’t need to work here anymore.

Ki Joon took out a cigarette and put it between his lips. Thick smoke poured from his mouth.

“Don’t run.”

He muttered weakly. Truly, he wanted to stop seeing this kind of sight. He didn’t want to drive any more nails into his already ruined heart.

“M-Managing Director…”

“Don’t tell the others. Say I hit you.”

Leaving Jooram weeping and offering endless thanks, Ki Joon walked out of the room. He made a round of Cheonghyeon, checking the overall situation. After receiving a briefing on the day’s clients and checking on the workers’ conditions, he stepped out of the building to find the sky already pale with dawn.

It had been an exhaustingly long night. A wave of lethargy washed over and engulfed Ki Joon. He handed the keys to the designated driver and got into the car. As soon as he leaned back in the rear seat and closed his eyes, a deep sigh escaped him.

∞ ∞ ∞

Ki Joon flung open the front door and drifted into the house like a ghost.

He had lived here for a little over three years, yet it still felt as unfamiliar as someone else’s home. Perhaps it was because he only worked through the night, came home in the morning, and caught a few hours of sleep during the day.

He had disposed of the two-story house where he had lived with his father until just before. Right after the attack by Gangsan, Managing Director Hwang had opposed him staying there for reasons of safety. Ki Joon hadn’t insisted further and moved to his current home with his cat.

“Munsik. I’m home.”

His muttering voice had no strength in it. With a vigorous “Meow—,” the cat leaped down from the cat tower and came over. The hand stroking the cat rubbing against his shins carried all the fatigue and lethargy of the night before.

“Were you playing well?”

“Meow—.”

“Yeah, yeah. Time to eat. Now.”

He patted Munsik’s rump a few times and then entered the dressing room. He stripped off the clothes thick with the smell of alcohol, cigarettes, and perfume and tossed them into the basket. The nauseating stench of debauchery.

Soon naked, Ki Joon stepped into the bathroom. The marks from last night’s fight—scratches and tears—wrapped around his entire body. With dead eyes, he passed by the mirror and turned on the water. The piercingly blue flowers inked across his back became thoroughly drenched.

After finishing his shower, he came out and threw on some training clothes. His parched gaze blankly swept the room. For some reason, the scenery of his high school room, the way he had decorated it back then, flickered before his eyes.

Soon, the desolate sight of his current room snapped Ki Joon back to reality. The walls once covered with posters of various athletes and gloves were now empty. The only thing unchanged was the cat tower Munsik favored.

His heart rustled with loneliness.

He hesitated before the drawer again and again. Like a bastard circling a honey pot. Even though opening this drawer was excruciatingly difficult, in the end, he always foolishly took out its contents.

Opening the drawer, the first thing he saw was the ring. That alone made his heart crumble. The ring, quietly holding its breath and gleaming, had been custom-made as a couple ring with Gawon right after the college entrance exam.

He took out the one and only small ring and slipped it onto the ring finger of his left hand. His knuckles, roughened and calloused by all kinds of training, had thickened so much that the ring wouldn’t go on easily. Since wearing it out was already impossible, he had no intention of resizing it now. If he wore this around, he’d drown in the waves of longing that would crash over him every time.

He put the ring down and took out the photo album. What was truly fortunate was that during the two years he had spent with Gawon, they had taken many photos. He had saved all the countless pictures stored on his phone separately, and had printed each one out and placed them in an album.

Leafing through the photos one by one, Ki Joon was soon smiling faintly. This one was taken in front of the snack bar near school that they always went to. It was a common franchise snack bar with nothing particularly special about its food, but because it was the first place he had ever eaten with Gawon, it was incredibly special to Ki Joon.

‘Gawon.’

Your nape, which I loved so much. Your white, straight neck, which even had a somewhat erotic feel. Every time I saw your pretty, neat back, I loved it so much I didn’t know what to do with myself.

So I called you, as if bewitched. The moment you slowly turned around felt like a miracle. Without thinking, I took your picture with my phone. Click. At the clear shutter sound, you looked a little startled but didn’t scold me.

You just, smiled beautifully.

Ah, when will I see again that moment when your crescent-moon-shaped eye corners crinkled and your clear eyes filled with me? How much more blood must I spit and call your name before I can meet that miracle again…

Tears fell drop by drop down his cheeks. Having only turned the first page, the wave of longing that surged had the destructive force of a tsunami. The oppressor who, just hours ago, had mercilessly slaughtered men alone, crumbled so weakly before mere remnants left behind like alms by the past.

“Gawon. …Others say you might be dead.”

His low, choked voice muttered gloomily. Even as he said it, unable to bear the words, Ki Joon let out a scoff. He gave a hollow smile and desperately denied it.

“I told all those bastards to shut up. If they spout that kind of crap again, should I tear their mouths open? …It doesn’t make sense. I’m saying nonsense.”

Heh heh heh, even as he laughed, the sound coming out was close to a sob. Ki Joon squeezed out his voice desperately.

“Our Yoon Gawon… was someone who kept his word once he said it, to the very end. He said he’d definitely go to that university, and he really got in. Anyway, our baby was diligent and smart. Almost too good for me. Right.”

Ki Joon smiled faintly at the photo. Yoon Gawon in the picture smiled back at him. As if listening to his words.

A piercing pain stabbed his chest like a knife. He clutched the fabric of his clothes with his rough hands. The sensation he had been forgetting all through the long night suddenly flared up in his left ankle. Ki Joon drawled out his words like a child whining.

“Gawon… I’m hurt. I hurt my ankle today. …Back in the day, when I came home injured, you’d spray medicine on it and put on a patch… you used to do that.”

You did. You’d droop those slender eyebrows and make a truly upset face. Sometimes you’d even smack me on the back, loud enough to make a sound, asking why I always came back hurt.

I loved being worried about by you so much that I always put on a show of being in pain in front of Yoon Gawon. Even when bones broke and flesh tore, I wouldn’t flinch, but in front of him, even a splinter in my finger would make me go “Ouch, ouch” with a pitiful expression.

Thinking about it now, even that was regretful. For making him worry so much unnecessarily. And yet, Gawon, I guess I still haven’t grown up. Because even now, in front of your traces, I’m still putting on this act today.

“Gawon. You made a promise with me. You promised we’d… go to the sea, eat delicious things… drink coffee, and when summer came, we’d swim… you promised.”

Plop, plop. Tears fell onto the photo album. Ki Joon hurriedly wiped the tears off the photo with his palm. Seeing the rosary tattoo inked darkly on his wrist felt like someone was carving out his heart.

Because it had come back so vividly. The image of that child, brightening his dark eyes brimming with laughter, playfully painting over his wrist with a pen.

“I’m really looking for you, you know. So… so…”

With trembling fingers, he traced the face that gave no answer no matter how many times he called, and Ki Joon closed his eyes.

“…Now that it’s been long enough, can’t you just come back and keep our promise?”

Over the past three years, Ki Joon had composed himself countless times. He had sternly driven himself, telling himself he must not crumble every single time he recalled memories of that child.

Yet the heart he had so firmly fortified crumbled so easily at just a single photograph. That was the kind of person Yoon Gawon was. Someone who could so easily take hold of and shake everything he had.

The layered, overlapping longing sometimes brought madness, and sometimes devastating destruction. It was a love like poison eating away at himself, yet ironically, Ki Joon could not live for a single moment without that love.

That was why he kept walking and walking, chasing a hope that flickered like a mirage only to vanish. Ki Joon, who had willingly knelt before its absolute binding power, never once entertained the option of forgetting that child.

He only searches endlessly. For his love, who had said he wanted to live, wanted to live together with him.