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A childhood house with both maintained front and back yards, connected to his late father’s plantation land, is apparently worth the price of a three-story building in Seoul. Half-furnished and quite far from the nearest train station that is, sadly enough. Adding the rest of the family assets, the grim warehouse included, also can only cover a slot for Jung-woo to become a medical student in Hankuk University. Two times of tuition only as well.
That’s fine, if Jung-woo really thinks about it. Not a problem at all, because — the real problem is they need active income to continue living there. A sustaining establishment. Something like ‘Mucheon Garden is the only solution’ kind of thing.
However, starting a family restaurant business for his mom to operate so they don’t have to pile up debts as they start anew, by Attorney Park’s consultant friend’s suggestion, needs something close to the amount of someone as wealthy as Hyun Gu-tak’s combined assets to be sold, at least. What a serious intimidation, all that. Jung-woo should really feel intimidated like a sane person about it, but a man as generous as No Sang-cheol blatantly conveyed how apologetic he is on Seoul’s behalf throughout the process. As if it’s his fault that everything is so expensive in such a metropolitan area. And he’s not being ironic about it, too.
“It’s fine, hyung,” Jung-woo reassured him, amused. Lighthearted. The greatest detective in the world should at least see it means he gets to adopt his dear friend, Su-oh, to be part of his family because of that. Is that not another thing to add on the brighter side that balances all this new kind of struggle? After this, neither of them will feel lonely or homesick; having to have each other to support one another in a new place. For a new life. After all, nothing can quite defeat the comfort and the grounding feeling of having people who have known and been with you through worse parts of your life, stay close to you. Go Jung-woo has enough of explaining himself to anyone else except for new things to these people he will continue to keep close to himself.
That prompted it: I’m going to miss you, though.
Jung-woo refrained from saying it out loud to Sang-cheol on the day they officially parted ways. He’s already dizzy and mellowed out anyway. Instead, he let Sang-cheol’s warm hands find their way to center him and said, “I leave Mucheon to you, hyung. Please take good care of it as if it’s yours.” As a wretched place full of bad memories or not, Jung-woo had a life here, a long time ago. Real life where rainwater was the only thing that could torch his skin with fever and sickness when he was a lot younger, instead of anything else. Anything crueler than mother nature.
“Mine? Seriously?” Sang-cheol made a sound of half a scoff, half a huff of laughter—it was getting more and more contagious as of late. “No, thanks. Wouldn’t dream of it.” A gentle shove by him was actually what broke a little laugh from Jung-woo’s tight chest. “You can’t just pass the buck around like that, by the way. Don’t turn it into a habit. Things that you thought were yours until a certain point in your life will still remain yours in so many ways until they don't serve you right anymore. Understand what I’m saying?”
An investigator through and through. Although, the days Jung-woo spent glued to the detective have rubbed it off on him so much that it is easier to breathe if he does not stare at him in the eye too long now.
“You’re right. Mucheon isn’t that bad in general.” Jung-woo could only attempt to decipher the unsaid implications. He supposed a birthplace is a birthplace; the first home that’s also the first grave which is indeed a potent, permanent impression in someone’s life. “Unless that’s your way of saying your birthplace is so much better than mine… Hyung should visit Seoul more often from now on, then, if you begin to feel homesick. Not that me and Ha Seol would be available to entertain you every time you do, though. We’re going to be so busy, you know?”
Sang-cheol, pausing after a beat, rolled his eyes at that. “Oh, please. I know where to find you, this is not even a warning. Just wait and count your days to regret ever saying that to me.” He retaliated by messing up Jung-woo’s hair until Jung-woo nearly lost his balance, withdrawn back to him for mercy before they both had to go separate ways.
…Has it been months already?
Jung-woo questions himself after managing to grab only a few winks last night, because of his piling up assignments. With bloodstream as caffeinated as the energy drink factory itself, sleep-deprived so much that he would freeze for a couple of seconds sometimes—to make sure if he’s ever mistaken on doing things. This path of life he’s been aiming for for such a long time is an entirely different breed of frenzy. Studying as a medical student in Hankuk University is a whole new level of marathon, just like how Seoul lifestyle has been treating him since the first week of his arrival. Hectic is an understatement for both, he wishes he was kidding, and both have successfully made him question his abilities and capabilities in every aspect of life in no time.
For a split second, Jung-woo wonders if the fact that he couldn’t find a single moment of peace to function as more than a freshman drowning in tasks from curriculum has bothered him so much to the point of this.
It might be a dream. Possibly. But, even a realistic dream Jung-woo would often have in his accidental naps would begin to distort not until halfway through his daily routine. Like clockwork, precisely at 06:30 he steps out of the restaurant after bidding a see-you-later at Su-oh and his mom to go to the nearest subway station. It is thirty minutes walk from here, so, in the dreams, things would only start to get bizarre after he’d turn in the intersection, making him late to his first morning class of the day that usually starts at 8. Now, however, the chilly morning breeze sobers him up quickly enough to know this is reality – because he would not be able to feel anything in his dream except uneasiness from straining confusion.
Someone that looks like Sang-cheol is calling for him from across the street.
Standing there in front of his mother’s restaurant, the world sort of stops as if giving permission for Jung-woo to process it: Right next to the familiar black car, this sharp-dressed image of No Sang-cheol in his usual leather jacket is grinning wide at him, greeting teasingly. “Excuse me!” He waves at Jung-woo, and he sounds like Sang-cheol too, before walking away to open the door of the driver’s side; his side. “I need directions to a certain university, and it seems like you’re miserable enough to be the right person,” he says while leaning against the car, gesturing. “Care to show me the way?”
Jung-woo makes several aborted attempts at opening and closing his mouth, so lost at words that all he can say in return is breathing out a small, “Hyung..."
Almost not looking around to check whether there is any vehicle about to roll in, Jung-woo crosses the street when Sang-cheol, from inside the car, opens the door to the passenger seat, beckoning him to come forward.
“What are you doing here?” Jung-woo can’t help but to sputter, voice no higher than the purring sound of the car’s engine the closer he gets to see his hyung now. “Why are you here…? I thought… Didn’t hyung say… Aren’t you supposed to—”
“Goodness me, Go Jung-woo…” Sang-cheol tuts, giving him a look from the driver's seat—not quite effortless but he is conveying just how insulting all those formless questions are to him. Jung-woo thinks he is about to lose the center of gravity with how light headed he is from the sudden rush of warmth and giddiness, seeing the older man huff and puff all to himself as if they have all the time in the world again to catch up with everything. So, he gets inside the car to sit down and huff back at him. “Wow, this guy. Really? That’s how you choose to greet me?”
Sang-cheol deadpans as Jung-woo keeps his eyes on him, obviously struggling so damn hard to hold back a smile that would definitely turn into a blown out laughter if either of them crack up now. “Unbelievable. Y’know, usually people say ‘hi, how are you’, or ‘it is so good to finally see you again!’ when they meet people they haven’t seen in a while.” Sang-cheol once again lets out a sound that’s startlingly the same as he did the last time in front of Jung-woo before leaving his past behind; half-scoff, half-laugh, no ill-intended heat behind either yet it is so warm to Jung-woo’s ears. “Forget it, I’ve changed my mind. I’m not dropping you to uni for that, you rude little thing can walk from the bus stop and I go on my own merry way.”
Catching the glint in Sang-cheol’s eye, Jung-woo bites the inside of his lip as a smile lights up his face, and thinks he could give him a similar retort if he’s given a minute. Just a minute; he wants to match the faux disbelief because he can; because this is No Sang-cheol. It should be only natural to Jung-woo at this point.
They may have been communicating through text messages and phone calls up until they both had no choice but to drop the regularity—daily became weekly became occasionally. It’s disheartening if Jung-woo thinks about it. Sang-cheol’s every word, every sentence, every joke and remark, dry or not, all the mundanity would never fail to either neutralize or tranquilize anything crowding Jung-woo’s head. There’s already a mountain of debts with a promise he intends to keep: If his hyung needs anything from him– or just anything, really– Jung-woo will drop anything at hand to help him out. That’s only fair, after everything. Just one word via a text or a call. That’s why he should’ve kept a closer eye on everything in Sang-cheol’s life.
The same question that riddles him with guilt rotates again inside his head: It has been months for real, hasn’t it?
It can’t be… Can it?
But Sang-cheol maneuvers his car first before Jung-woo can check what he has missed from his phone, grumbling about youths these days, so Jung-woo has to put on a seat belt and resolves to pace it; taking it easy. Calm his heart down and keep these weary feelings away for now. Sang-cheol looks healthy and fine at least, doesn’t he? No dark circles under his eyes, only a thin layer of facial hair on his chin, and his hair is a bit longer than Jung-woo last remembered.
“Why didn’t you tell me you’re visiting today?” Jung-woo asks at last after gathering his scattered thoughts. His beating heart buzzes off the wrong kind of energy when he remembers that it’s a 3 hour drive from Mucheon to get here, on a weekday morning as well. “Did something happen? Are you…” He hesitates, then rephrases. “Is everything… alright…?”
Sang-cheol informed him once, after Jung-woo told him he is going to fight for a chance in Hankuk University again, that there was going to be an interesting gamble of verdict for resolving his case. The whole hierarchy was in shambles for Mucheon Police, so it could either result in another transfer for him, or a straight up promotion—which is the most insane move that is very unlikely to happen. Not fired, Sang-cheol pointed out to him when Jung-woo was too speechless to say anything about it, not running away from the welcomed guilt.
“Can’t a guy have a day-off to have a fun, little trip to big cities?” Sang-cheol remarks while Jung-woo takes it all in. The same cheekiness that never dims no matter what, a glance with crinkled eyes, swift and steady hands taking a hold of the direction control for where they are going. He looks different while remains the same at the same time. Jung-woo is about to sigh when, “I wish, though, I fucking wish.” The corner of Sang-cheol’s mouth twitches upward. “There’s something I need to take care of here. Some of my friends need help, so now I have a lot of people to investigate, and places to visit...”
Jung-woo finds himself relaxing in his seat by the minute when the flashing grin is back on full display. Finds himself unable to look away. “You’re handling another big case?” he asks quietly, letting it be something that fills him with hope, too, since it can make Sang-cheol look hopeful like that.
“Sorta. I don’t really know the details just yet.” Humming, Sang-cheol turns to him, and gives Jung-woo a once-over as his smile slowly turns into a frown. “Have you eaten breakfast, by the way? You’re not overworking again to the point of not eating, are you…?” He asks, just at the right time his phone on the phone holder goes off that Jung-woo doesn’t have the time to respond. Sang-cheol accepts the call wordlessly, and puts it on speaker as if the caller doesn’t have a ‘detective’ as part of the contact name ID.
“[Alive and well, Mister No Sang-cheol?]”
“Morning to you too, Ji-yeon,” Sang-cheol greets back with an unimpressed intonation as he drives past Jung-woo’s usual bus stop and keeps going. Makes a guileless face when Jung-woo gives him a harmless, expectant look.
“[Where you at right now? Seoul yet?]”
That gets a startled laugh from Sang-cheol as the car slows down at the intersection when the traffic light is about to turn red. “Damn. Why do you sound impatient?” He shakes his head at his passenger, reading what Jung-woo must have not realized himself shown on his face. “I’m still on my way,” Sang-cheol answers when this Ji-yeon person makes a non-committal sound at him, Jung-woo has to look away to make himself comfortable since it seems that this conversation is going to take a while. “I’ll be there in time, don’t worry. You guys need me to pick up some takeaways or something?”
“[Isn’t it quite impressive how our old timjang is not lost on his way here?]” Ji-yeon remarks, sounding like she’s talking to someone else, automatically earning an indignant ‘hey, what’s that for!’ from Sang-cheol. “[Don’t bother to head straight to HQ, by the way, no one’s there.]” A different voice proceeds to talk to Sang-cheol the next second, followed by Ji-yeon’s voice again saying, “[Meet us at the usual restaurant next to a gym, we’ll eat there together. The whole team wants to take turns kicking your ass so you better treat us all good, alright?]”
Sang-cheol’s jaw drops like he just got slapped, but he matches up to it with a mocking scoff. “Going for an old school style, are we?” He leans back in his seat, in disbelief, seemingly unaware that it amuses Jung-woo who raises his eyebrows at that, biting back a grin that the effort sinks him down on his seat. “Sure! That’s fine. I won’t fucking hold back either just all of you wait—”
“[Yeah, yeah, whatever—]”
They argue like children, Sang-cheol and the people on the phone that Jung-woo assumes must be his old colleagues-turned-real–life-friends. Continue to do so for the next few minutes despite the fact they’re going to meet each other later—soon. Camaraderies that can only be formed from having gone through so much together, with everyone’s everything on the line. It’s the kind of connection that can hurt worse than death itself, if things dive down to south faster than the speed of sound. The kind of thing Jung-woo doesn’t have both the time and the privilege to call his own now, in order for him to have this new chance of living a normal life. The postponed dream life of his that he still wishes he can show his dad sometimes.
It is endearing in a way that Jung-woo can’t help but to observe and bask in without envy getting the chance to ruin him. How can he, when he knows his place. Knows there’s nothing to be afraid of, and that enough is enough – he doesn’t dare to ask for more. Only allows his heart to constrict every time Sang-cheol glances at him with such genuinity so pure, can’t be helped for Jung-woo to smile back whenever his hyung secretly includes him in every remark when it comes to directions. Saying, “ah, shit, I missed my turn again because of you bastards–” for the second time, intentionally driving past more bus stops and metros so he can tease his passenger with a shrug, unseen by his verbal opponents.
Jung-woo slowly bows his head down in response, tucking his chin to his swelling chest. Closes his eyes to rest them as he keeps on listening, demanding his tense body to relax more, more, because it’s alright. Because this should be nothing to him.
He’s not hiding; he’s not hurt. No one is, and that’s the most important thing life rarely offers for just anyone.
It is pure exhaustion reigning, Jung-woo is sure, when he becomes restless after Sang-cheol hangs up the call as if he doesn’t have the heart to disturb the person who’s trying to rest next to him. Even worse that this unbidden emotion tunes Jung-woo sensitive, compelling him to notice how the movements of the vehicle gradually become smoother, as if in hope it can help lull him to sleep. A considerate part of No Sang-cheol that is never-ending, something Jung-woo is too weak to reject nor deny outright – because it will be unfair. Because that is how generous No Sang-cheol is. And it did restore his life, the abundance of it that can overpower Jung-woo like no other.
Just like now, where he doesn’t dare to stop playing pretend and tries his damnest to control his breathing, tame his erratic heart rate, and don’t think. Don’t think about anything—enough is enough. Hoping for something is fine, but there has to be a limit so it doesn’t turn into a radical thing. Be more realistic, Jung-woo. Don’t give fuel to this generating thing that just burns as bright and consuming as fear. Have you forgotten what want feels like?
It feels like too much… Does it not?
And anything that’s too much will eventually derail normalcy. Right? He already knows this, just like he is aware of the promise he’s sworn to a handful of people– No Sang-cheol included –to live a normal life that’s so hard to obtain. So why not focus on that alone? Why ask for more? Why must you ask for more?
(Why must you want more, Jung-woo…?)
Forget it. These hefty feelings… Jung-woo understands why they exist; why he has them overflowing when it comes to the older man next to him. Relief and gratitude can be overwhelming to the point of suffocation, too; seizing one who didn’t die when should've been like a trawl that dredges the contents of the ocean, from the deep. Sang-cheol was the one and only who managed to give Jung-woo his life again. He turned the world around and upside-down for Jung-woo, so he can have something to call his own again. A second chance to become human instead of a gnashing, astray thing. Returned his mom to come back to him, and welcome her only son with open arms again.
(Are those not enough for you, Jung-woo?)
There is also the possibility that No Sang-cheol is still mourning from things he couldn’t—can’t talk about, even to this day. Mourning over the past and loss that Jung-woo doesn't have the stomach to do any longer.
Possible if one of the many reasons his hyung is visiting this city is because he missed his late wife so much, regardless of anything. The love of his life who died in front of his very eyes on their wedding day, he told him back then in that Hell of a town. Even with 11 years and some more, and without seeing how two of the important people in Jung-woo’s life died… Jung-woo should’ve known better about the amount of sorrow it can burden a person. About grief, and the way it stays just to keep hunting you through the busy streets and crowded buildings. More so with the injustice that haunts the dead as much as it does the living.
They both have been burning for so long.
Jung-woo isn’t so sure if he has the energy left to cross more lines, in this new life of his. From now on, it should be Jung-woo’s priority if he can’t do much to help his hyung with other things. Disarm. Completely. Neutralize everything into something more bearable for him at any given chance.
“Hey, Jung-woo…”
Just like how gentle Sang-cheol always is, with him. And those he cares for, too. Don’t ever forget that—
“Jung-woo… You okay? You with me?”
Jung-woo doesn’t flinch when Sang-cheol taps his arm to wake him up. He doesn’t flinch because the gesture is weighed by caution, but he does move so suddenly that it makes him dizzy. Surprised to find that the car has stopped moving on a protocol road, his palms wet from sweat and Jung-woo—with his heart still trying to crawl out of his throat—desperately holds onto the determination to help ease his hyung’s concern by sputtering, “I’m awake, I’m awake— I’m…”
He pauses to make the act seem real. Looks startled while sitting up straight and, because there is a vicious traitor beating inside his ribcage, he sags down again with harnessed lethargy. “What happened…?” he asks as he looks around to scan the area. They’re near his uni somehow. “So sorry, hyung, I didn’t—”
“Nothing. It’s nothing.” Sang-cheol stops him with a wry wide smile, placating with his open palm that hangs in the air. “You’re good. Just. You looked like you’re in pain while you’re sleeping earlier, so I thought…”
You're about to get nightmares again, he doesn't say. “Oh,” Jung-woo mumbles in understanding, deliberately avoiding his stare, abashed by that fact. “No, it’s — I appreciate that, thank you. I’m – alright.” Might as well start practicing now; the attempt to neutralize Sang-cheol’s radar by explaining how he dozes off a lot because power nap every now and then helps and almost never invites nightmares he still often gets every night. “Not that I don’t think hyung must’ve not known this already… Sorry for sounding like a smartass…”
“Why do you apologize for being yourself? You are a smartass,” Sang-cheol says with a playful dismissive wave of hand. Smirking when it earns him a soft snort of shocked laughter from his passenger. “Go back to sleep, then. I’ll notify you when we arrive, which… technically in five minutes, to be honest.” He motions to the GPS in the middle.
Jung-woo stiffles a yawn with appreciation. “Yeay for five more minutes,” he cheers in a murmur with eyes closed again despite the dangerous feeling of warmth and fondness boiling his blood to the crown of his head, so gratified to get such a positive reaction from his hyung. Internally, he is trying to get himself together to keep a straight face and think—no, convince himself that this might be the best way to diffuse the visible tension caused by worry in Sang-cheol’s body language.
This mad thought that crossed his head the moment he saw Sang-cheol’s sun-adored face again.
Jung-woo has had enough of worrying him. He’s had enough of not being able to do anything, say anything, express anything whenever Sang-cheol gives him that pitiful look like he is on the brink of devastation. He’s been devastated for years, but this is the person who’s mended him so well that it also mended his mom’s trampled heart. Stitched their lives with lively colors. It has to start from this, first.
All Jung-woo needs now is the thinnest chance that can only be given by the wild card that is No Sang-cheol for this mad, mad thing to proceed. Something like—
“Alright, my liege, we have arrived at your destination. Please get up and mind your stuff before getting out of the vehicle,” Sang-cheol announces with a seamless stop, pulling his handbrake at the end. Jung-woo thinks his heart just drops into the pit of his stomach because the timing cannot be more impeccable, he has to wake up and rise very slowly to fake a candid daze. “I’m letting you easy now for not answering me about breakfast, by the way, but you better fucking eat lunch, you hear me?” Sang-cheol warns sternly, leaning across to nudge his passenger on the shoulder. “Say you heard me.”
“No breakfast or I’ll be late for class, which I think I am now.” Jung-woo, in his best autopilot intonation that he’d use to talk to his mom in late mornings, rummages around with poker face to collect his things. His torso, arms, and the back of his head are heating up so bad that his heart might as well be combusting on the inside, but pushes through with mindless courage to perform just for the Hell of it. While covering his yawn once more; wide enough to conceal his eyes so he can reach blindly towards his hyung, he mumbles out, “thanks for the food, mom, love you. See you.”
Then, he gives Sang-cheol a quick peck on the cheek before getting out of the car at last.
He has decided to not run when he leaves, feigning sleepiness. It’s for the best; necessary to make it natural. He only slows down a couple of steps of his dragged strides to fish out his phone from the front pocket so the movement gets caught by Sang-cheol, who’s alarmingly quiet in his unmoving car, behind him. He pretends to receive a phone call, and only after a couple of seconds then dares to dash off into the building before Sang-cheol gets any idea to call him back or go after him so he can pressure him into a life-threatening confession.
He is embarrassed enough of himself, doing such recklessness. It’s so stupid. So childish. No excuses whatsoever. For the first time in a dozen years, Jung-woo just acted like a foolish kid again, and, as he thinks more and more about it throughout the day, he finds that he doesn’t even mind it. Not even the slightest.
Not if it ends up making Sang-cheol laugh until he is sick whenever he remembers it, which is very likely. Undoubtedly.