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Juwon’s vision started to falter at the age of seven when the last thing he saw was his mother being dragged away by the staff of the mental institution his dad had insisted she attend. Juwon had stood atop the staircase and leaned over the banister to meet his father’s sharp gaze – a silent warning to bid his farewell to the woman who had both succeeded in birthing him yet failed to raise him and as the door closed, the last thing he heard was her screaming his name. The next time he saw her, it had been at the cemetery, where he stood before her grave several years later to make his peace.
However, that was a story for another time as he was tugged back into the present when pulling into the parking lot of the infamous Manyang butcher shop, Jae-Yi’s familiar sign greeting him in all its blinding glory. Squinting, he had to pull down the visor in his car to shield his eyes from the glare.
Ji-Hwa came out of the shop to greet him with her phone in hand as he was reaching to take off his spectacles, carefully placing them into the glove compartment.
“Inspector Han,” she greeted cheerily, waving her phone at him. “Seoul must not have as good an internet connection as our small town considering you rarely answer my calls.”
An apology was already being drafted in Juwon’s mind as he thought of ways to apologize to the older woman. Most of the time it wasn’t that he didn’t answer the calls on purpose (at least twice a week, eight times a month). But mainly because the cases he had been assigned in Seoul consumed him wholly and he allowed them to, fixated on his shortcomings and thinking of alternative solutions. Other times he was out with Kwon-Hyeok, who often came down to visit and they would spend their nights at some rooftop bar squabbling over whose case was harder and whether or not they could be considered brothers. (Kwon-Hyeok always said yes; Juwon was still bordering on no).
The remainder of his time was spent sleeping and running. Since he rarely got sleep, he would go for runs at the crack of dawn when the metropolis was still asleep, low light creeping on the horizon as he ran down to the park and sat on the bench overlooking the lake thinking of how many feet would be deep enough to drown a grown man. Then, he would jot down some calculations, get home, and fall asleep on the carpet for a few more hours before getting to work. The mattress in his bedroom remained empty ever since he had moved in.
On the slim chance he would get his phone out to answer it and assure Ji-Hwa that he was indeed alive and thriving, he decided not to because it was inevitable Dong-Sik’s name would arise amid the conversation and Juwon wanted to avoid hearing his name as much as possible. Some wounds and scabs could be scratched and left to heal but Juwon’s open injury was bleeding and he preferred to let it fester.
“Sorry,” he winced now, getting out of the car and closing the door before bowing in front of Ji-Hwa. “I must have missed your calls. There’s been an influx of kidnapping cases lately that we suspect a drug cartel so I’ve been out in the field more.”
Ji-Hwa just nodded in understanding and ushered him inside, the rest of the Manyang crew getting up from their seats to greet Juwon enthusiastically. Ji-Hun quickly shoved a cup of soju into his empty hand and smiled up at him. “Drink up, Inspector Han.”
Not wanting to seem rude, Juwon turned his head away and immediately downed it in one gulp, turning back only to see the whole table staring at him – eyes wide, jaws dropped, mouths agape. Jae-Yi regained her composure fastest and blinked at him a few times in succession before asking. “Where did you learn how to drink like that? When you first came to Manyang you wouldn’t even sit at the same table as us when there was alcohol being served and now you can do shots? Damn Inspector Han, Seoul must have fucked you over good.”
Gwang-Young takes apparent offense to that, glaring at Jae-Yi. “I’m based in Seoul now.”
Scowling, Jae-Yi went around the table refilling everyone’s cups, swatting at Gwang-Young like a fly when she reached his seat. “You’ve always been an alcoholic, it doesn’t count.”
Ji-Hun beside him erupted into a fit of giggles when Jae-Yi starts mumbling something along the lines of “eating me out of house and home and drinking me out of alcohol.” Gwang-Young is still desperately pleading his case when Dong-Sik comes into the shop and the chatter immediately dies down, time standing still for a split moment.
Ju-Won’s heart quickened its pace ever so slightly and he had to force himself to tear his gaze away when Dong-Sik chooses to occupy the empty seat beside him.
“Hyung,” Ji-Hun greeted him cheerily. “You made it. Look, we have a guest of honour tonight.”
Dongsik raised an eyebrow in question, following Ji-Hun’s finger which was cocked to the right and Ju-Won quickly held out a cup of soju as a peace offering.
“It’s good to see you, Dong-Sik ssi.” He said, bowing. Dong-Sik laughed and took the cup from him, their fingers touching ever so slightly.
“It’s good to see you too, Inspector Juwon.”
Clearing his throat, Ju-won coughed while at the other end of the table, Ji-Hwa rolled her eyes exasperatedly. “He made chief inspector last week.”
“I never doubted him,” Dongsik replied fondly, gaze fixated on his former partner, unmoving. “I always knew you would go far and you exceeded my expectations by moving to Seoul.”
The table was a mismatched amalgamation of drunken laughter and exhausted groans. Ji-Hun and Gong-Young who were already half gone were busy cackling at the joke while the two women were staring at Dongsik blankly. Juwon remained impassive, gaze still fixed on the man beside him. There were so many unanswered questions on his tongue and just as many thoughts drifting in his head, whispers lingering. Yet, he did not know how to broach the topic and adequately express exactly how he felt. So in true Han Juwon fashion, he decided to lift the corners of his mouth slightly and swallow another mouthful of soju in hopes he would not say anything at all for the rest of the night.
____
He did in fact, say a lot of things further into the night. “Hand me another,” was one of his complaints, getting up from his seat midway through a conversation about traffic with Gang-Young and almost flinging himself across the table to wrangle the green glass bottle Ji-Hun was holding by the neck.
The younger boy simply stuck out his tongue instead of an audible reply and passed the bottle to his sister who quickly wrangled it out of his tight grasp and placed it under her stool, far away from both their reaches.
The two men shared a groan, Ji-Hun turning to glare at his older sister. “You’re no fun, noona.”
Ji-Hwa simply batted her eyelashes at her younger brother in response. “How would you like sleeping in the garden tonight if Mum and Dad see you’re shattered?”
Ji-Hun had no legible reply to that as Ju-won snickered from the other end of the table, bending over to laugh and promptly hitting the underside of the table on his way up. The table erupted into a burst of laughter as Juwon groaned in pain, laying his head on the cool surface of the metal table, straining to listen to snippets of conversation.
A hand started gently massaging the part of his head where he had hit the table and he struggled to get up and look at who it was before a familiar voice whispered into his ear. “Stay down, Officer Juwon.”
Dongsik was the only one that called him that when all the others used the surname he had come to despise and wanted to discard altogether. But now, his thoughts were focused on one thing and one thing only which was the fact that the soft voice belonged to Lee Dongsik and Juwon was sending a prayer up to the God he rarely worshipped to please help reduce his heartbeat before the fucking organ broke its way out of his chest.
God was in fact, not listening and Dongsik continued to softly knead through Juwon’s tangles of curls to reach into his scalp. Juwon never believed in heaven and hell all that much but now he felt as though this was close to the former and he was ascending. The more he sat there the more he realised he would absolutely screech, collapse and fall apart in no particular order so he decided to slowly sit up and stare at the older man beside him.
“Feeling better?” Dongsik questioned and Juwon nodded, opening his mouth to provide an audible response. Before he could even get a word out, however, Ji-Hun was going through every shade of white across from him and Jae-Yi reached for his collar, gesturing to Ji-Hwa.
“Not in my shop, drag him outside.”
The sign that signalled the untimely end of the gathering was the sound of Ji-Hun ever so gracefully retching at the side of the road while Ji-Hwa took picture after picture and cackled maniacally like the older sister she was.
Gong-Young on the other hand was still sober enough to hail a taxi as he rushed in and shouted something about meeting up again next week. Juwon could barely comprehend the series of events at this point, not even focusing on what anyone was saying. He wasn’t usually a heavy drinker as it is. Even when Kwon Hyuok and he met up, they would share a bottle of liquor between them, pouring two or three glasses each and then calling it a day. Juwon despised the stench of alcohol considering it was the smell he had grown up with, plastered all over his father’s study or every time he used the bathroom downstairs as a kid.
Every time his mind drifted to both his parental figures, his mind drifted to the what-ifs and he had to convince himself to not drown in the deepest crevices of possibilities his grey matter had to offer. What if they had been better parents? What if my dad didn’t divorce my mother? What if my mother didn’t kill herself? And most often, what if I hadn’t been born?
Those very same thoughts were currently occupying his head and he was trying fervently like a man bent on his knees at church to discard his own identity. It’s almost midnight, my surname is Han, I hate my father. Why is the legacy he left behind such a tainted one? Why do I have to keep shouldering your burden? Why do I need to carry you with me whenever someone calls me by my full name it brings the meaning of you and everything rotten that you are.
Juwon was gasping by this point, trying to dislodge the swelling knot stuck in the middle of his hollow throat that was slowly blooming and spreading into his chest, sneaking around the bones of his ribcage and rattling them like the ghost that kept him company all those nights he spent alone in his bedroom. It was akin to how his mother used to wrap presents and tie them with pink ribbons, pulling them tightly to ensure they would stay secure. Except in Juwon’s current predicament, if anyone were to even slightly tug at the ribbon, every secret he had ever known and grown up with would come to light and Juwon did not feel like he had a confession due today.
Once more, a pair of familiar hands reached to pat his back gently, forcing him to bend down and regulate his breathing. Tilting his head to rest on his knees, Juwon tried to remember how he used to hide under his bed on the days he heard glasses vases shattering and would go downstairs to find knives lodged into concrete pillars. In, out. In, out. It was the same pattern he followed during his daily morning runs, taking in the scenery of the city he almost certainly did not belong in and was merely playing tourist for.
Once more, Dongsik’s voice echoed in his ears. “Stay down, Juwon-ah.”
Nobody called him that. Nobody aside from Dongsik. The rest of the Manyang residents had simply stuck to calling him Inspector Han as did his colleagues back in Seoul. Kwon Hyeok didn’t’ even bother with a name most of the time, just making random noises as though he was calling a cat, and even when he did occasionally address Juwon properly, he would use his full name.
Dongsik being the only one to call him Juwon despite everything felt personal. It felt as though someone had traversed the broken-looking glass of his life and come out unharmed unlike him. He was battered and bruised, painted shades of mottled blue and pale grey. There were bruises on his anatomy that would never heal but worse were the scars lining the soft tissue of his heart that were left to fester and eventually closed up on their own. Not feeling them didn’t mean they didn’t hurt.
He liked Juwon-ah, there was a certain ring to it and only Dongsik knew how integral this was to his identity. He was Juwon-ah.
“You okay?” Jaeyi entered his field of vision, handing him a bottle of cold water. “Don’t tell me you’re going back to Seoul in this state.”
Juwon’s mouth was exceptionally dry as he reached for the bottle like he had been parched for the past three days and chugged almost the contents of the whole bottle. In the absence of his response, Dongsik took the liberty of answering for him and assumed both roles of designated driver and caretaker.
“I’ll take him back to my place. He can stay the night and sober up before going back in the morning. It’s Sunday tomorrow anyway, he doesn’t have to rush back to work.”
Decisions were being strung together with a sort of determination only Lee Dongsik was capable of and Juwon felt his head grow even heavier that he didn’t even have the willpower to stand up much less argue about the choices being made for him.
“Can you just make sure those two get home okay?” Dongsik told Jaeyi, Juwon raising his head to see Ji-Hun half sprawled across the pavement and Jihwa sitting on the gravel almost crying from how hard she was laughing.
Stifling a laugh and rolling her eyes, Jaeyi shot Dongsik a quick thumbs-up and ran to help Jihwa up first considering she was the more sober sibling and even that was quite a reach.
“Ahjumma,” she joked. “Let’s get you to bed.” Jihwa swatted her hand away and Juwon snorted, Dongsik reaching out a hand to pull him up, Juwon leaning into him.
“You feeling okay, Juwon-ah?” Dongsik questioned. “Think you can get to the car?”
Juwon was not in fact, feeling okay but he was not anything if he wasn’t stubborn so he just nodded and tried to protest that he was not a small child that needed coddling. That proved to be a disastrous idea however because as soon as he opened his mouth, he felt bile rise and bitterly coat his throat. Hence, for the betterment of them both (and Dongsik’s beloved car), it would be wise to keep his mouth shut until further notice. That lasted a whole three minutes before Dongsik turned to ask him if he knew where his car keys were and he had to shrug instead of an answer because, in all honesty, he couldn’t remember which pocket he had flung them into earlier.
They headed into the car and Dongsik helped him into the passenger seat, looking at him expectantly as Juwon continued ransacking every pocket on his person until Dongsik asked permission to take over. Juwon hurriedly sat up straight, ignoring the erratic rhythm of his heartbeat, and let the older man pat him down until he reached the pockets of his pants which were resting on his thigh. Juwon felt the blood rush to his head just then and suddenly felt lightheaded, groaning, and slumping down onto the dashboard.
“Aah,” Dongsik exclaimed triumphantly, pulling out the set of keys before he saw Juwon face down on the dashboard, face contorted as though he was in a lot of pain.
“Juwon-ah,” he shook the younger man frantically, lifting his head. “Wake up. You need to be awake until we reach my place, can you do that for me?”
“I can do anything for you,” Juwon slurred, his sanity escaping him by the minute as Dongsik laughed, closing the door and heading to the driver’s side.
The ride back to Dongsik’s place was fairly quiet except for him humming a few lines from that godforsaken folk song he so adored and always kept singing during their patrol shifts when Juwon was first transferred to Manyang. The habit infuriated Juwon even then and now it seemed to agitate him further as he told Dongsik to shut the hell up because it was not helping his headache subside.
Dongsik laughed and pulled into his driveway, immediately killing the engine and going over to Juwon’s side to help him get down. As they walked toward the front door, Juwon noticed the stone angel still in scattered pieces all over the yard and it brought back memories of how much guilt Dongsik had lived with for the past 20 years. 20 years of suffering and agony and now Juwon had his sins to carry since he had the privilege of being his father’s only son. He did not want that responsibility nor did he ask for it. But for Dongsik, Juwon was willing to be Achilles and carry the weight of the world until he collapsed.
“Can you wait a minute?” Dongsik asked him. “I need to find the key.”
Juwon nodded and promptly sat down on the doorstep, looking out into the empty night illuminated by only the dim glow of a single streetlamp painting the road in a faint orange hue while Dongsik searched for his spare key under the flower pot containing dead hydrangeas and opened the door.
The wind howled in the distance before Dongsik slammed the door shut with his foot and Juwon stood still for a moment, fascinated by the sound which brought him back to the night in the reed field where he and Dongsik had first seen each other’s true colours.
Juwon was grey. Muted shades of monochrome occasionally tinted black and white. Dongsik was blazing blue, actions calculated most of the time so he could carry out his responsibilities diligently and dutifully but underneath it all, a layer of anguish so thick you could not separate it from his person. Both of them playing the role of a son riddled with guilt for entirely different reasons that were not so different now that Juwon spared some thought regarding it. But the past was dead and buried and Juwon did not have any desire to dig up any of the skeletons in his closet.
“Here we go,” Dongsik murmured, placing a warm hand on the small of Juwon’s back and the latter stumbled, falling face-first into the gap between Dongsik’s neck and clavicle, breathing in the faint scent of his cologne masked under the familiar smell of soju.
“Juwon-ah,” Dongsik called worriedly. “You okay?”
“No,” Juwon thought to himself. “I came back to Manyang for you and you can’t even look me in the eye. Please, Dongsik hyung, why won’t you look at me?”
Instead, he remained silent and slowly got up, nodding and following Dongsik further inside until they stood in the living room.
“Here,” Dongsik reached for one of the pillows from the couch and handed it to Juwon who loosely grabbed onto it, mimicking the grip of a five-year-old child holding onto their stuffed toy. Except the child was seven, and it was a teddy bear his dead mother had gifted him which he still kept in a box hidden in the dark of his closet.
Juwon looked at Dongsik expectantly, waiting for his next order and Dongsik couldn’t help himself from reaching out and pushing away the loose strands of the younger man’s hair which was falling into his eyes in some twisted semblance of affection.
“I’ve missed seeing you around,” he admitted and Juwon felt the catastrophic drop somewhere in the atmosphere, incoming tides threatening to swallow him whole as both of them stilled after the weight of Dongsik’s words hit them at the same time.
Not even his Kwon Hyuok missed having him around much less his father. Most of the time when Juwon met up with the former, it was for a business-related matter instead of a family-related business. But since they were not biologically related anyway, Juwon supposed that excused everything that had transpired between them since they were kids, and that included his father’s preference for the man that was not even his son.
There was this stupid saying his father adored so much that he had it engraved onto the back of the chair he used in his study, silver words glinting off the metal. ‘Blood runs thicker than water.’
The blood running through the veins of the Han family was dirty and Juwon had decided a long time ago he wouldn’t let it corrupt anyone else. It had affected his mother and where had that gotten her – locked up in a mental asylum and eventually ending up dead. From there, he avoided touch as much as he could, citing mysophobia as the main reason. When actually, he just hated the cold, hard fact that no matter how much he scrubbed down and cleaned every prominent surface in his apartment until it gleaned or polished the bathroom mirror so well that there was practically not a single speck of dust in the whole space, he could never scrub himself clean of his surname because despite being a policeman, a friend and a close confidant to some, Han Juwon’s first role in life would forever remain being his father’s son.
Han Juwon was unclean. Lee Dongsik was not sparkling clean either to begin with but at least he hadn’t pushed a woman to the brink of death. Juwon alone had committed that crime and the cardinal sin of taking someone’s life. Even though he hadn’t been the one to push the cleaver into her heart, tearing away layers of connective tissue and slicing through bone, most nights it felt as though it would have been easier for him to take the blame since he would have something tangible to feel guilty about. Instead, the non-existent blood on his hands was the one thing that would always wake him at night, pulling him from a night of fitful sleep to remind him of the life he had played a role in taking.
These thoughts were disturbed when a hand came to rest on his shoulder – the gesture soft yet held firm. Dongsik came into his view, “Juwon-ah, I think you need sleep. Here, take this.”
Dongsik handed him a rather hefty blanket and gestured toward the stairs. “My room’s the second one to the left. There’s probably still an old poster of the Beatles stuck to it and the sign of my name Yu-Yeon made for me.”
Juwon’s heart clenches a little tighter when he notices the sad smile on the older man’s face, an expression of longing and fondness marring his features. “Where are you going to sleep?” he blurts out, desperate to not witness the agony Dongsik is currently drowning in.
“I’ll bunk on the couch,” Dongsik reassured him. “Don’t worry, I’ll wake you up early enough tomorrow for you to at least have time to eat breakfast because I know for a fact you do not do that in Seoul and you’ll still have enough time to drive back. Now go get some rest.”
His words were still ringing in Juwon’s ears as the younger man allowed himself to bed led to the foot of the stairs where he started his slow ascend, trudging up the wooden floorboards with one hand gripping the railing to avoid losing balance.
“Hyung,” he called out once he was upstairs, the alcohol blurring his memory and causing him to immediately forget which room Dongsik mentioned was his. “Which one did you say was your room again?”
Upon receiving no response, he opened the first door he saw and was greeted in succession by a cloud of dust. Coughing, he cleared his throat and realised that he was standing in the wrong room. Before him was a bed covered in a floral duvet and posters of second-generation Korean idols plastered across the walls. He turned to see revision books still strewn across the wooden desk in the corner of the room.
His heart weighed heavier on his chest as he decided to take a few steps forward and cracked open the spine of a chemistry book, running his fingers along the first page where a familiar name blinked back at him.
Lee Yu-Yeon.
“I haven’t come into her room since I found her,” a voice exclaimed behind him. Juwon jumped, startled, the book falling from his grasp onto the floor where Dongsik picked it up and mirrored Juwon’s earlier decision to trace his sister’s name on the front cover.
“This is the first time in 20 years I’m coming into her room.”
“I’m sorry,” Juwon began to say but the apology faded away, the words dying on his lips when Dongsik reached past him to take a photo frame from the table and Juwon’s breath hitched in his throat due to how close they were standing to each other.
“This was her in elementary school,” Dongsik turned the photo around so Juwon could also see it, a warm smile on his face. “She was so smart, the teacher asked Eomma to consider testing her for a higher grade at her age. Eomma refused though, she didn’t believe in pitting us against each other and letting us complete. Well, at least not blatantly. I know how she gossiped with the church ladies though and I knew how much she favoured Yu-Yeon over me.”
Dongsik sighed and put the photo down in the place it was, taking a seat on the bed and patting the space beside him as an invitation for Juwon to sit down. “Juwon-ah,” he started once the younger man was beside him, eyes trained on his feet. “Why did you come back?”
Juwon felt the metaphorical carpet as compared to the leopard-print one he was currently drying his feet on being pulled out from beneath him, leaving him unstable and lost. This was not his question to answer, Dongsik was supposed to answer that. Dongsik was supposed to know that the answer would always be him. That Juwon would keep coming back as long as he was there.
“I-“ Juwon stuttered slightly, his gaze averting to stare at the vase on the bedside table when Dongsik lifted his chin with one finger so their gazes could meet.”
“Was it to meet me? Was it to seek forgiveness? But you can barely meet my eyes, Juwon-ah.”
“Because you can’t meet mine either!” Juwon snapped, brazen with anger spilling out of him. “Hyung, look me in my eyes and tell me that you don’t see my father in them. Look me in my eyes and tell me that you aren’t reminded of the man that killed your sister. Do that, and I will believe that to be the reason you don’t want to be close to me.”
Dongsik looked taken aback by the younger man’s tirade and visibly flinched when Juwon brought up his late sister’s case, watching the latter moving back a couple of steps, raking a hand through his wet curls and glaring at him.
“I came, for you. I always come back for you. I thought that four years down the road meant that you would understand that. That you would be able to recognise the fact that I always come back for you. That I would be able to pick out your silhouette on a night with no moon if you were to stand in the middle of that goddamned reed field. God-“
His voice broke midway through and he had to turn away, his chest heaving with words unsaid and he was determined to get through them today. Ignoring Dongsik’s gentle touch on his shoulder, he turned back around and stared the older man straight in the eye, his firm resolve reflected in his steely gaze.
“I didn’t come back to Manyang because it was my home. I came back to Manyang because it’s yours.”
Juwon was sobering up at a rapid pace, thoughts running through his head, thoughts he had left to marinade within his mind for way too long. Thoughts that needed to see the light of day and not only be buried by the light of the moon. He fell to his knees upon feeling the weight in his chest ease slightly with the next breath he took. Looking up through teary eyes, he stared at Dongsik and forced himself to speak.
“I’m Han Juwon,” he whispered as though he was telling Dongsik a secret he had kept all his life, and maybe on some level he was.
“I’m Han Ki-Hwan’s son and I am so, so sorry that every time you have to look at me, you have to see him. I’m sorry for everything I have done to you, hyung. I am sorry especially for arresting you, I’m sorry for being a coward, and most of all, I am sorry for still being in love with you even after all these years.”
He slowly got to his feet and swayed slightly, holding onto the doorknob for balance. The last thing he remembered was Dongsik lunging forward to grab the collar of his shirt and the sound of his name before he fell to the floor and his head hit the tiles.
________
“Juwon-ah!”
He saw his mother in his sleep, her petrified screams ringing in his ears as he reached for her – a seven-year-old boy torn between which parent’s side to stand by. Such a vital decision is to be undertaken at the tender stage of being a child. If rephrased, the question would be posed as to whether he wanted to continue staying with his father and let the latter raise him to become just as cruel and unforgiving toward people. Or if he wanted to follow in his mother’s footsteps and be exiled from the world he had grown up in thus far.
In the end, Juwon realised that he didn’t have the autonomy after all. His father had decided for him before he had even come to get to know the woman his mother was. All those years he spent under his father’s care were a series of trials and tribulations to make him believe there was no kindness left in the world and that all those near to him would eventually depart, just like his mother did.
It pained him even more when he finally found her grave after 23 long years of searching for her, a tombstone set in marble citing her name but neither her title as a wife nor a mother.
He had left a bouquet of white carnations and murmured a soft apology as he bowed over her grave and was reminded of how he had done the same when arresting Dongsik. It was after that that he realised the wind was blowing south, whispering Dongsik’s name and calling him home.
Now, when he awoke and struggled to refocus his vision through half-lidded eyes to see Dongsik peering down at him with concern, he thought of the fact that this man was the only person to show him any semblance of remote affection in the past few years and tears started gathering at the corners of his eyes before he could stop himself.
“Hey,” Dongsik took up the space on the empty side of the bed, leaning down to wipe the tears away with his thumb. “It’s okay, it was just a nightmare. You’re here and you’re safe. It’s alright.”
Juwon shook his head as tears continued spilling onto his cheeks in rapid succession and he leaned into Dongsik further, angling his chin to fit into Dongsik’s outstretched palm, the older man’s other hand fitted into Juwon’s hair, stroking the head of unruly curls. There was a brief moment of silence when Dongsik paused to caress Juwon’s cheek and the gesture was so tender that Juwon felt as though he was splitting apart like tree bark struck by lightning.
“I love you,” Juwon finally managed to get the words out, laying them before him and flipping them over one by one like cards on a table to reveal the hand he had played. “I do.”
Dongsik remained silent and Juwon was reluctant to even look up and get a glimpse of his expression. He was afraid of the disdain that might cross his face and the subtle shake of his head. Juwon stood on the line connecting them with sheer trepidation and watched as it began to thin and fray. At this moment he was also reminded that Dongsik was not his father, but there was no law stating they could not react the same way.
Just as he tried to slowly come to terms with that fact, Dongsik stood up and neared the door, pausing only to tell Juwon to freshen up before coming downstairs.
As the door closed behind Dongsik, Juwon remained on the bed for a few minutes more trying to decide if Dongsik was skirting around the topic on purpose or if he just didn’t feel the same. Both possibilities were equally depressing so Juwon decided to slowly get up and look around the room for something to put on. That was when he noticed the folded pile of clean clothes placed at the foot of the bed.
Reaching for the first item of clothing, he pulled out a sweatshirt that had a picture of a tiger on it and tried it on just to be surprised it fit him perfectly. Despite the whole series of mismatched events that had just occurred, he couldn’t help a small smile, pulling on a pair of black knee-length shorts and heading to the bathroom to try and at least pass off as a semi-functioning human being.
Remnants of last night’s conversation flashed through his mind while he was washing his face and he groaned inwardly upon realising what he had said to Dongsik just before blacking out. With this morning’s announcement, it had been twice in less than 24 hours that he had proclaimed his love for the older man. No wonder Dongsik had avoided the topic.
Heaving a sigh and collecting the pieces of his dignity from the room scattered all over the porcelain tiles, he went downstairs and headed straight to the kitchen where he knew for certain Dongsik would be, working on breakfast. His guess was confirmed correct when he saw Dongsik hunched over the stove, frying something that looked like eggs if Juwon squinted hard enough.
Reminded that he had an extra pair of glasses always in his jacket pocket, Juwon went back upstairs to get them and slipped them on, heading downstairs where he could finally see Dongsik.
The man was bathed in a golden light, painted hues of muted orange and faint pink. Juwon watched intently how he handled the saucepan with an agility that could only be honed with years of experience as the sinews in his right arm danced across the bare surface of his skin.
The sight was almost too blindingly beautiful to witness in person so Juwon turned away after a few minutes, opting to take a seat at the table instead and reaching for the pot of coffee in the middle.
Only after taking a few slips did the incessant pounding in his head subside and he heaved a sigh of relief. It was he audibly sighed that Dongsik turned away from the stove to see him there and offered him a ghost of a smile.
“Feeling better?” He asked, turning off the stove and plating whatever dish he had cooked.
“Mhm,” Juwon replied intelligibly, reaching up to take the plate from Dongsik.
“Eat,” Dongsik gestured to the plate filled with toast bread, and scrambled eggs. “It will help with the hangover. There’s also haejang-guk still simmering on the stove.”
The next few minutes were filled only by the scraping of forks against porcelain plates and Juwon’s thoughts battling among themselves to see which one would escape the confines of his mind first, slipping through the crevices.
He eventually settled for the direct route without any turnaround time or detours. “Are we not going to talk about it?”
“Talk about what?” Dongsik supplied cheerily, that familiar smirk on his face and Juwon struggled between wanting to wipe that expression from his face and also keeping his thoughts in check.
“Dongsik hyung,” Juwon tried to placate his anger, slowly placing his cup down on the table. “I remember what I told you last night.”
“Good for you,” Dongsik retorted sharply, stabbing his fork into a piece of egg. “I don’t.”
“You can’t keep running away from everyone like this!” Juwon raised his voice unintentionally, slamming his hand on the wooden table. “When will you realise some of us genuinely care about you and your well-being?”
“When you say some,” Dongsik hooked onto the second part of the sentence, sinking his teeth into it like a predator would do to its prey, leaning forward to clasp his hands together and meet Juwon’s furious gaze. “Do you mean you?”
Juwon tried to think of a response but came up short, racking his brain on how to respond to that. Yes? No? Maybe?
Dongsik put his fork down where it clattered against the edge of the plate and moved his hand across the table, reaching for Juwon’s wrist, and running his fingers across the bruised knuckles.
“What happened?”
“I fell,” Juwon promptly said and Dongsik shook his head, repeating the question.
“What happened?”
“Fine,” Juwon admitted with a reluctant huff. “I punched my bathroom mirror last week and broke it.”
Dongsik merely hummed, lifting Juwon’s knuckles to press a slight kiss to them then released his grasp on the younger man to lean back in his chair. “When will you realise,” he mimicked Juwon’s question from earlier. “That some of us genuinely care about you and your well-being?”
Juwon wanted to fling himself against the wall like a crumpled rag doll and slide to the floor. Instead, he mustered up the last few remnants of courage and adrenaline in him to move closer to Dongsik until he could see the uncertainty in the older man’s eyes twinkling with the faintest hint of mirth. “By some,” he continued to mirror Dongsik. “Do you mean you?”
They held each other’s gaze in the golden eclipse of sunlight. “I’ll answer your question if you answer mine, Inspector Juwon,” Dongsik finally spoke, crossing his arms over his chest and demanding answers.
Juwon did the same, leaning back in his chair. Two could play at that game and he knew they were both equally obstinate, refusing to cave but he wanted to put himself out there first so that he could come clean about how he felt. God knows how long he had been trying to do that year after year.
“I told you I love you,” Juwon said. “I did three years ago, I still do today, and I still will. Why is it so hard for you to look at me and see me for who I am – your former partner, your friend, and someone who loves you? Why are you looking at me just to see my father in me, Dongsik hyung? I was never him, I never want to become like him and I never will be.”
Dongsik got up without a single word to get two bowls from the sink and ladled haejang-guk into them, leaving Juwon to take another sip of his coffee and clutch the corner of the table with pale knuckles that wouldn’t stop shaking. He only stopped when Dongsik came back and slid one bowl across to him, also setting down a bowl of rice beside it.
Their next few minutes were spent in silence and Juwon watched Dongsik sipping his haejang-guk until the older man finally set his pair of chopsticks down and looked back up at Juwon to confess.
“I never saw your father in you.”
This came as a revelation to Juwon who merely snorted at the lackluster attempt at a discussion and pushed his bowl of steaming stew away, glaring at Dongsik. “You could at least try to put more effort into making up a lie.”
Dongsik laughed, picking up a piece of cabbage and chewing on it slowly. “There are two things you need to know first, Juwon-ah. Firstly, you always know whenever I lie. Secondly, you know I’m not lying now.”
Juwon knew this to be true. He had worked with Dongsik long enough to memorise all his partner’s tells and he knew exactly when the older man was lying. Sometimes it would be the barely meeting gaze, other times the flick of a finger at the start of the fib. He saw neither now when he looked at the man seated at the other end of the table and knew this was not one of those instances.
“Then why,” his voice cracked when he spoke despite his trying to keep his emotions under wraps, struggling to drag out the rest of the sentence. “Then why can you not bear to look at me?”
Dongsik hurriedly put his chopsticks down and got up, pulling his chair over to where Juwon was and placing it directly beside him so he could sit and face the younger man.
“Juwon-ah,” he started and Juwon scowled immediately, angrily wiping his tears away. “I cannot bear to look at you because that would mean having to come to terms with the way I feel about you.”
The scowl faded to give way to disbelief and Juwon’s jaw dropped open, Dongsik smiled and reached over to close it gently. “I don’t want to look at you, because it reminds me of how you had to force yourself to be so brave that night three years ago even when you lost two people you loved that night.”
Juwon made a muffled sound of protest at that statement and Dongsik merely shrugged. “You may argue that you don’t love your father but Juwon-ah, the bond fathers share with their sons isn’t something that just disappears and fades over time. You are allowed to love him yet never want to speak to him ever again. And that is completely fine, for you decide to make if you want to allow him back into your life or to continue shutting him out.”
“You are still your father’s son,” Dongsik continued speaking, his hand reaching up to stroke Juwon’s head softly. “And I love you despite that. His sins are not yours to carry, his guilt is not your burden, and you may be your father’s son, but you are not your father, Juwon-ah.”
Tears were streaming down Juwon’s face by this point, staining his cheeks as he sobbed in silence. Dongsik pulled him into his chest, holding him close as Juwon clung to the flimsy fabric of his shirt as though it was the only thing keeping him from drifting away like a ship lost at sea.
He thought about how there was before Dongsik and there was in between with him. Juwon had tried to live without him but now after following the familiar and worn path back to where he truly belonged, he realised he didn’t want to learn how to live without Dongsik.
“Hyung,” he managed to cough out, drawing back to allow Dongsik to smooth down his unruly head of curls. “What if I stay in Manyang this time, for good?”
He could see the confusion etched into Dongsik’s expression slowly give way to realisation as the older man nodded slowly, the slight curl of his lips slowly blooming into a slow and warm smile.
Juwon felt the crevices in his chest start to fuse, sinews binding and bones mending themselves to unearth his heart from the shallow grave where it had been hidden for so long.
“Hold on,” came Dongsik’s voice as he stepped away from the table and started ruffling through the stacks of paper piled on the coffee table, Juwon watching from the opposite end of the room as faded newspaper clippings from years long gone falling to the carpet.
He watched with absolute fascination at the way the veins in Dongsik’s arms danced with his gestures. How the tic in his jaw ascended and descended every time he was annoyed, a constant movement. He watched as the man before him grew to become someone he loved and wanted to continue to love for a long, long time ahead.
His thoughts of affection were abruptly cut short as Dongsik triumphantly lifted a silver item Juwon couldn’t discern in the glare of sunlight, desperately squinting and subsequently scowling when he was still unable to figure out what exactly it was.
“What is that?” he asked curiously when Dongsik drew closer, gesturing for Juwon to put his hand out and placed the mysterious item in his palm.
The touch of the slightly rusted key was cool against his skin and Juwon lifted it with his other hand to see the logo engraved on the other side, just beneath the keyhole. He frowned, looking up at Dongsik. “What key is this?”
Dongsik chuckled. “You remember how you used to break into my basement at such godforsaken hours?”
Juwon groaned, dropping his head onto the table with a relatively loud thump. “Why did you have to remind me of that, I’m so ashamed of myself.”
Dongsik just smiled, amused, going over to press a kiss on Juwon’s head, slowly pulling him up so they were facing each other. “I was going to say, that remember how I started joking about charging you rent? Well, how would you feel about not paying anything at all since you have your key?”
“Oh my God,” Juwon whispered more to himself than to let Dongsik hear it, turning the key over once more in the palm. This was much more than just a simple house key. This was the end of something less and the start of something more. Dongsik had given him his house key. Juwon now had a copy of Dongsik’s house key. What did this mean?”
He only realised he had uttered that last part aloud when Dongsik laughed and took the key from him, holding it up to the light. “We’ve come so far, Juwon-ah. Now that you’re going to be back in Manyang, you need a place to live. Well, this is an option if you’re willing to consider it.”
“Absolutely,” Juwon responded seriously before throwing himself into Dongsik and knocking them both to the floor before he started kissing Dongsik fervently.
The older man kissed him harder before drawing back slightly for a brief moment to lean into Juwon and whisper, “welcome home, Juwon-ah.”
Juwon smiled against him and shook his head, eyes shining brighter than the morning sun the moment their gazes met, staring straight into Dongsik’s eyes. “You know what? I think I found home three years ago.”