CEL 45

It was a rare holiday. No classes, no assignments due, no Han Jaeha. A true holiday.

After waking, Seo Hamin groped around and lifted his phone. His eyes opened wide when he saw the time. The whole morning had passed.

Is the phone broken?

He stared at the numbers in disbelief. He thought he felt refreshed, but he never imagined he had slept this long. And by three o’clock, Han Jaeha’s class ended. Relaxing hours meant only about one remained.

He stood up with regret and opened the fridge. He expected at least something inside, but the fridge stood completely empty.

With no choice, he dragged his slippers outside. Inside the nearby mart, cold air from the AC brushed his cheek. His hazy mind slowly returned to place.

He picked up a basket and walked toward the cold section. He planned to buy a few simple things and return home.

When did eggs get this expensive?

Almost eight thousand won for a tray. His hand hesitated at the price. He fiddled with the paper carton. Buying a full tray felt heavy.

“Should I just buy ten?”

He murmured under his breath and stretched out his hand. Just as he reached for the ten-count carton, an image of Han Jaeha eating four fried eggs in one sitting popped up in his head.

Jaeha preferred spreading out a small table in his tiny room, hunching his shoulders, and eating there rather than going out. He thought nobody noticed, but every meal flushed his cheeks red, and he devoured three bowls of instant rice without fail.

He only eats like that at his place.

Hamin grumbled and put the large tray in the basket anyway. His arm felt heavy instantly.

He tried heading for the counter, but his step stopped at the freezer. Packed shelves of frozen food, yet a lone half-empty row of king dumplings caught his eye.

“He ate these well.” The words slipped out of his mouth.

The way Jaeha blew on them and finished a whole pack alone had left Hamin dumbfounded. Jaeha had mocked him for eating too little, yet he himself could eat enough for three meals in one sitting. “Why scold me for eating?” he had grumbled.

Hamin shook his head again. At that moment, a middle-aged woman nearby eyed him strangely, she grabbed three packs of dumplings, leaving only three behind.

…Should he buy them?

He thought about his thin food budget, but when he saw a man walking with clear intent toward this freezer, his hand acted first. He tossed all three remaining packs into his basket. The man’s eyes fixed on his basket confirmed he had wanted the same.

Hamin walked off pretending not to notice. This time, the snack aisle stopped him. “This one tastes good.” That smiling crescent gaze floated in his head. He sighed and dropped several snacks in the basket.

Lately, he acted like this often.

When he ate something delicious, he thought maybe Jaeha would like it too. When he saw food Jaeha enjoyed, his hand reached for it unconsciously. With no income, his fussiness made no sense.

Afraid of finding more, he stared at the floor and walked along. He finally reached the counter, but small chocolates placed at the bottom caught his eyes.

Damn tricks.

He closed his eyes and grabbed the square chocolates too.

“Please add this.”

The number on the register went far beyond what he expected. He narrowed his eyes and handed over his card. Shopping online might be better from now on.

On the way back, his shoulders felt unusually heavy. Not only because of the weight, but because of the burden in his chest.

Could it be that he…

He could not even finish the thought. Age gap, gender, none of that mattered. He should never hold such feelings towards Han Jaeha. If he had even a scrap of conscience, he must not.

He let out a low sigh and shoved the mess of worries onto tomorrow’s self. He always thought people who delayed decisions were pathetic, but now that he stood in their shoes, he could understand them a little.

The autumn breeze had grown cool. Hot days drained him with cooling bills, cold days would eat up heating bills, so Hamin wished weather like this would last.

He tried to empty his head and walk home. In the middle of a lonely alley, an old grandma sat alone.

She wasn’t here before.

He stopped without meaning to and looked down at her shabby stall. The day wasn’t cold, but the bare ground didn’t look like a good seat either. Her slowly blinking eyes suddenly looked up and a wrinkled face met his gaze.

“Aigo, student. Fo you want to buy greens?”

…Ah.

“These, I picked them this morning, they’re fresh.”

Her fingers barely straightened. A bent hand pointed to the vegetables rolled in newspaper.

“This here is ssambagwi, this one is godeulppaegi, and this is…” They all looked the same.

It was awkward to just stand, so he squatted. The grandma, excited, spoke more.

“This one you blanch and season, this one makes good kimchi…” He only blinked, he didn’t really grasp the details.

He lowered his eyes. She sat on a few layers of newspaper, but her hips must have hurt, her red floral pants shifted restlessly.

He felt uncomfortable. Few people used this alley. If he walked past, no one would come for hours.

He touched the rough paper bills in his pocket. He rarely carried cash, but today he had fifty thousand won.

Hamin sighed. He was not the warmhearted type, but if he left, he wouldn’t be able to feel at ease.

So today’s fortune means spending everything.

He pointed at the greens. “I’ll take them all.”

“All of these?” Her eyes, half-hidden under her lids, widened.

“That’s a lot for one meal.”

“There’s someone who eats well, so it’s fine.”

“Then just give me thirty thousand.”

“If you sell that cheap, you’ll have nothing left.”

“My grandkid’s just like you, student. But the kid’s so capable, it feels like I live with a mother-in-law.”

Her hands moved busily, packing greens into a black plastic bag. Seo Hamin handed over a fifty-thousand-won bill.

He refused the change she tried to return. Her wrinkled jaw clenched in displeasure.

“Ma’am, if you take only thirty thousand, that’s not even minimum wage.”

“Ah…what did you say?”

“Even if you sell again later, for now you should take at least this much. Understood? And sitting like this on asphalt will hurt your back. Sit on a chair at least. Or, how about selling near the subway benches?”

He pointed at the ragged newspapers. She coughed faintly and turned her head, pretending not to hear.

“There are more people there, you’d sell better. Why stay here?”

“Mm… my grandson, he’s good, but he fusses too much.” Ah.

Hamin grasped the situation roughly and nodded. The grandma pursued her lips and began complaining.

“I should earn more while my body still moves. But he keeps telling me to lie down in my room. No matter how much I say I’m not that old, he won’t listen.”

“He must be worried.”

“What’s there to worry about?”

Her grumbling tone said one thing, but the word worry made the corners of her lips twitch with amusement.

“Anyway, you should pack up soon…”

“I kned this would happen.”

“Si-Siwoo-ya.”

The sudden cold voice made both Hamin and the grandma lift their heads.

The owner of the voice wore a school uniform. His face stiffened with anger. His clenched fists had turned white at the knuckles.

So this is the grandson?

Hamin stood frozen, unable to step away. The student scowled and stared scolding her.

“Is it that hard to just stay still? You make only a little money selling this, why keep doing it?”

“No, grandma just wanted…”

“Later tonight you’ll complain your back hurts again.”

“…..”

“Can’t you calculate? How much did you make today? If I told you to fix your back with that money, could you? No, right?”

“Siwoo-ya… Grandma’s sorry, hm? Don’t be mad… My puppy, your head will hurt again.”

She pushed herself up with her hands on her knees and reached toward him, but the boy stepped two paces back quicker. He turned his head stubbornly and muttered through clenched teeth.

“Do whatever you want. I won’t care anymore. Sell greens or whatever, handle it yourself.”

“Aigo, Siwoo-ya. Don’t run! You’ll fall!”

She cried out, but the boy vanished quicker than her voice reached. After that storm passed, only her restless eyes moved. She let out a heavy sigh.

“What’ll he do when I’m gone…”

“Don’t say that, you should live long.”

“If hearts followed will, would that be human?”

An awkward silence followed. Hamin watched her sullen face and help her tidy the stall. She rolled up the torn newspapers and stuffed them into her bag.

“His body grew, but he’s still a child.”

Hamin only nodded, he didn’t have any no proper words.

“People look like they age day by day, but it’s not like that. A child stays five, then suddenly ten. Always young, then suddenly forty.”

“…I don’t really understand.”

“I mean one day he’ll realize. Anyway, thank you, student.”

She rubbed his hand as she thanked him. Hamin bowed lightly. Her eyes still lingered on her grandson, who had limped away fast. Hamin watched her gaze and turned to go.

The house wasn’t far, but even that short distance weighed on his chest. He hadn’t done wrong, but he felt im uncomfortable. The grandma’s last words especially stirred old memories.

Nothing had changed much since his orphanage days or even his time at ENHA.

Even in a million-won suit, he felt no different from the days he wore discarded clothes.

Did he only grow in body?

He continued walking as his heavy thoughts weighed him down. A familiar figure slipped beside him.

“Why’d you buy so much?” He’s becoming more skilled each passing day.

It looked like he had been walking with him from the start. Ridiculous.

A small laugh escaped from Hamin’s lips even if he didn’t really to. Han Jaeha casually grabbed his bags.

“Why did you come?”

“What’s this, newspaper? You even paid for this?”

He didn’t hate the way Jaeha changed the topic. In the past, his sudden visits without notice felt bothersome. But now the way he was peeking into his bag felt almost welcome.

When Jaeha pulled away the newspaper and saw dumplings underneath, a faint smile crossed his face. His light-brown eyes sparkled.

“Oh, I like these. Three packs? So the story of three meals was a lie? No one lives off this.”

“I bought them for you.”

That unexpected reply made Jaeha’s eyes widen. His face turned serious. His cheeks reddened though the day wasn’t hot.

What should he do with this man?

Every time, Seo Hamin felt irritation mixed with fondness. It was ridiculous. Jaeha clearly didn’t know what he was saying.

“Let’s go together next time. You didn’t buy anything you like.”

“I eat everything fine.”

“You know your taste’s weird, right? Why so many greens? Did someone force you?”

“No, nothing like that.”

Only then did Hamin think, what to do with all this. He opened the door lock. Jaeha went in first and loaded the fridge. Hamin dropped his bag. Jaeha acted like it was his place.

“Anyone would believe you live here.”

“Would that be fine?”

“Since you’re here, stay and eat dumplings. I’ll fry them.”

His words made Jaeha’s lips curve into a smile.

Though Hamin usually liked soggy steamed dumplings, Jaeha’s chest tingled as he watched him pull oil from the cupboard. He stepped closer and hugged Hamin from behind. Hamin scolded him” Oil’ll splash, move away.”

“Just ‎ moment.”

Han Jaeha held Seo Hamin in his arms. His mind went calm, it felt like he took a sedative.

Cheek. Chest. Stomach.

Heat spread from every spot that he touched. He sighed in satisfaction.

“I should have gone into law too.”

Hamin turned his head to the right. Jaeha stole a kiss, and Hamin swallowed a sigh, he closed his eyes without saying a word. He put down the dumplings, turned his body, leaned his back against the sink. Jaeha’s fingertips shook faintly.

His rough thumb brushed over hid nape. The tip of Hamin’s nose wrinkled, it felt ticklish. Jaeha engraved that sight in his eyes. The thing that always crawled inside his mind shifted away. Hamin filled the empty space.

This moment felt good.

The thoughts that ate him each day withdrew. Only Seo Hamin tangled him. His tongue stung, bitterness spread inside his mouth. Yet he refused to release that feeling.

His palm covered Hamin’s shut eyes. Inside his hand lay the one thing that made him restless and uneasy these days. He exhaled a long breath mixed with relief.

Hamin asked in a low voice, “Why?” Jaeha caught the tone, the atmosphere, and his eyes sparkled. That was the voice Hamin used whenever he meant to grant what Jaeha wanted.

“Come to think of it, there’s something I wanted to try.”

“What is it?”

Jaeha pulled Hamin’s nape close and whispered at his ear. Hamin’s blank face twisted in an instant. Jaeha pressed his forehead against Hamin’s shoulder and started trembling. The reaction had been just what he expected. He only wished Hamin knew that holding back his laughter already meant plenty.