The whole family had voiced their worries after Taeheon left the table early during the meal in Pyeongchang-dong, claiming he felt unwell. But when he called a few hours later, his voice was far from sick. It carried an inexplicable urgency.
“I have a friend who needs to leave home due to circumstances.”
“Friend? Who?”
Taejun, who had asked without much thought, furrowed his brow deeply.
“Don’t tell me. That woman you’ve been seeing lately?”
“It seems like domestic violence.”
“What?”
“For now, it’s just a suspicion.”
“Are you kidding? What era is this to be hitting a kid? What kind of bastard raises a hand to his own family? So, did you report it?”
Taejun raised his voice in indignation.
Understandably so—the cause of death of their youngest sibling, U Haerim, had been none other than assault. The family had been devastated upon learning the truth, and Taeheon, in particular, had suffered for a long time. Naturally, he couldn’t turn a blind eye to a woman enduring a similar situation. Taejun’s expression grew troubled, as though he finally understood the full picture.
“I don’t think she reported it. She just seemed to keep living like that. Well, there must have been circumstances she couldn’t avoid. She probably endured it because she had no choice. Anyway, that’s the situation. Since you commute from here anyway, you can lend her the officetel. I’ll pay you back in full for the rent and living expenses for the period she stays.”
“Hey, money isn’t the issue right now. That girl’s personal safety comes first. I know a lawyer—should I put you in touch? Anyone who lays a hand on another person should be caught immediately and—”
“I said it’s just a suspicion. I’ll keep an eye on things for now and talk to her about it later.”
Taeheon cut in urgently, his gaze darting toward the first-floor staircase. He seemed worried that their mother and father might overhear and make the situation bigger.
Taejon signaled that he understood. The conversation ended with him telling Taeheon not to hesitate to ask for help, yet he couldn’t shake off his lingering unease.
Because he recalled the conversation they’d had in Pyeongchang-dong.
U Hyeonseon, whose in-laws were in the legal and press circles, had told them that despite the severity of juvenile assault cases, many victims refrained from even reporting them out of fear of retaliation.
U Seonghwa, who had lost his daughter to an indiscriminate assault abroad, agreed wholeheartedly, arguing that an environment capable of helping victims needed to be established. Talk of the foundation’s projects had begun then.
* * *
It was early morning. Normally, it would have been time to sleep in and settle for a meal somewhere between breakfast and lunch, but Taeheon—neatly dressed and ready to go out—paced around the kitchen, pressuring his mother with a pointed gaze.
“It’ll be done soon. Wait just a moment.”
She answered gently and earnestly, moving the remaining side dishes into containers with her gloved hands. But when she saw Taeheon wandering back into view again as if to disturb her, her lovely face contorted in an instant.
“Ugh, you’re making me dizzy. I told you it’s all done—why are you so restless?”
“I’m worried my friend might be hungry. Look at the time—it’s already past breakfast.”
She tilted her head to follow Taeheon, who was gesturing sullenly at the clock on his phone. “Hmph,” she made an awkward face. Though she claimed she had rushed, tallying up how much time had passed embarrassed her.
“How can you be exactly like your father?”
All of a sudden, her gaze sharpened. Her husband, U Seonghwa, had a gentle, easygoing nature and had never once lost his temper, yet very occasionally he would tease her for being slow. Husband or son, they were exactly the same.
“A cold?”
“Huh?”
“Your friend. The one who lives alone.”
Taeheon blinked, caught off guard, then caught himself and composed his expression.
“Oh, right. She runs hot, but she slept with the window open last night and caught a cold.”
“Even if she runs hot, it’s chilly at night. How could she sleep with the door open? Go check on her and bring her home. Being sick alone is miserable—it would be nice if we took care of her.”
“No, she’s a bit shy. Just bringing this will be enough.”
Taeheon smiled cheekily as he moved the neatly stacked containers of side dishes into a paper bag. Even though he’d glossed it over as a light cold, his mother seemed deeply worried. The atmosphere suggested that if he lingered any longer, she might insist on coming along, so his hands moved faster.
“It’s Sunday, so the pharmacy might not be open. What to do? Just in case, why don’t you take some medicine from home? Taejun had a cold before and recovered right after taking some.”
“...I don’t think she’ll need medicine.”
“What nonsense. If you’re sick, you need to take medicine.”
Concerned, she immediately took out the first-aid kit and laid out the relevant medicines one by one. Taeheon, inwardly guilty about his lie, hovered around her in circles, stealing glances at the first-aid kit. He pretended not to be interested, but as he looked, he remembered something he needed.
“Do you have any ointment for wounds?”
“Oh my, did your friend get hurt somewhere else too?”
Her eyes went wide. She put the medicines back into the first-aid kit and shut it firmly. Then she held it out to Taeheon, telling him to take it all just in case.
“Ah, uh.”
Absently accepting it, Taeheon left the house with a bulky load. He was bewildered by how much his luggage had suddenly grown, but it couldn’t be helped if he wanted to avoid his mother’s suspicion.
* * *
The air in the hallway hung heavy, weighed down all the more by Taeheon, who stood before the door exhaling one stifled breath after another. He reached for the door lock, then withdrew; reached again, then stopped. His conflicted gestures wandered before the door for quite some time.
It was his older brother’s officetel, and he knew the entrance password, so there was no reason to hesitate, yet the thought that she was inside made his body tense of its own accord.
“Fuck, I’m going crazy.”
It was absurd that he was so uncharacteristically nervous, swallowing dryly. Taeheon took a deep breath to steady himself. Then he pressed the doorbell.
“Did she leave already?”
Seconds passed, then minutes, and when no sound came, a futile thought crossed his mind—perhaps she had gone home. Taeheon looked down at the now useless luggage, then entered the password himself to unlock the door.
“Ah...”
A sigh full of disappointment escaped him. After the cold entryway, he could find no trace of her anywhere in the apartment.
Taeheon set his bags on the dining table and trudged to the sofa, stretching out at full length. He grabbed a cushion, placed it under his head, and took out the phone from his pants pocket.
While debating whether to call her and adjusting the height of the cushion, he suddenly caught a familiar scent. He immediately narrowed his brows and looked down at where he lay with questioning eyes.
“What, did she sleep here?”
He quickly sat up and pulled the cushion to his nose. Sniff, sniff—as he inhaled, faint but unmistakably, it smelled of her. Despite the spacious room and comfortable bed, she had apparently chosen to sleep uncomfortably on the sofa.
While he was sighing in frustrated concern at the thought, he heard a fumbling sound as a password was punched in. Soon after, she entered the living room from the hallway, having changed into slippers.
“Ah, you’re here?”
“Where are you coming from?”
“The salon.”
“The salon?”
Now that she mentioned it, he noticed her hair was shorter than yesterday.
“It was stifling, so I roughly cut it with scissors at home, but looking at it while washing up this morning, it was a mess. So I went to the salon to get it trimmed.”
“...Is that so?”
“It doesn’t suit me, right? I’ve never had hair this short before, and I won’t do it again. It’s too short, so it feels awkward and strange.”
U Gyeong trailed off and unnecessarily swept down the hair cut to her jawline. Her bare nape, exposed and hollow as though she had been stripped and cast onto the pavement, made her terribly self-conscious. She wished he would say it was fine, even as empty flattery, but he merely stared fixedly, saying nothing.
All this time, she had avoided the salon because she thought haircuts were a waste of money and simply let her hair grow thoughtlessly. That was why she hadn’t cared when Hong Mijeong arbitrarily cut her hair.
But today she had worked up the courage to visit a salon. The designer who cut her hair had praised her relentlessly, saying it suited her image perfectly, right up until she left. So she had secretly held high expectations, but it seemed in his eyes it was neither here nor there. He couldn’t even bring himself to say something perfunctory.
U Gyeong looked around absently, then discovered the bundle of luggage on the dining table and blinked her eyes wide.
“What is all this?”
“Your hair is pretty.”
“...”
Taeheon slowly pulled up the corners of his lips in a smile, then strode over to stand before her. U Gyeong, who had been steeped in disappointment, suddenly felt heat rising in her body. Not wanting him to notice, she averted her gaze, and a large hand cupped her cheek.
“It suits you well.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. It’s pretty.”
Taeheon removed the hand on her cheek and placed it on top of her head. Carefully stroking down, he admired how her glossy black hair shook beautifully.
“It tickles.”
“Hmm?”
U Gyeong glanced toward her shoulder. Taeheon quickly withdrew the hand that had rested on her nape.
Fuck. He cursed inwardly and gauged her reaction.
“But what is all that? Did you bring it from home?”
Curious eyes alternated between the luggage and Taeheon.
Taeheon quickly turned and approached the dining table. Standing as close to it as possible, he began unpacking. U Gyeong came to his side to watch.
“I told her I was going to a friend who lives alone, so Mom packed all this up.”
“Your mother?”
“Mom has generous hands. I came to eat with you and see your face, but you weren’t here.”
“Ah. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what? I’m the one who came without notice.”
Taeheon responded with a smile so she wouldn’t feel uncomfortable, then turned his head and let out a quiet sigh.
The time he spent with her was so wonderful, yet on the other hand, it confused him. What kind of confidence had made him think she would naturally be here, that she would naturally wait for him? He wondered if the emotions that cycled through tension, disappointment, and elation were even normal.