F9

It was the password Yeonho used for everything that required a numerical code. When four digits were needed, it was always 0616. For six digits, he used 180616. For passwords longer than ten characters, he added letters and special characters as well.

It might look like an anniversary, but to Yeonho, the number had no particular meaning. It was just the password that the former Ju Yeonho had once set, and the current Ju Yeonho continued to use.

He couldn’t even remember why his past self had chosen it. After the ski resort accident, his phone had gone missing, so he bought a new one, and the password he had set instinctively at the time was 180616.

It was the same in front of the ATM. His brain didn’t even need to think about it. His fingers simply entered 0616 on their own. But now Siwoo was using the same password. How was that possible?

Yeonho felt overwhelmed by all the strange things that had happened to him in less than twenty-four hours. What was he supposed to think now to justify and rationalize all of this?

After withdrawing a ten-thousand won bill from the ATM, Siwoo lightly wrapped an arm around Yeonho’s waist and escorted him out of the convenience store. By Yeonho’s standards, Siwoo was far too physically affectionate. This excessive contact had to be a means to achieve some kind of goal. That goal just hadn’t revealed itself yet.

Siwoo led the now visibly worn-down Yeonho toward the capsule toy machine and teased him playfully.

“You memorized my password, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose. It just stuck because of my greed.”

“I’ve been using it for a long time, so all my other passwords are the same. If any of my money disappears, I’ll know it was you.”

“Then even if we part ways here, we can meet again at the police station?”

“You want to see me again?”

As Yeonho was seriously entertaining the idea that theft and financial fraud might be a perfectly valid excuse for a reunion, Siwoo inserted the bill into the coin changer. Yeonho was genuinely surprised. He had never even considered that Siwoo might have withdrawn the cash just for his sake. The way he noticed and acted on such a small passing interest amazed him.

Yeonho knew it was probably just another step in pursuing some hidden agenda, but despite that, his guard toward Siwoo kept lowering. Looking down at the stack of 500 won coins that Siwoo had placed in his hand, Yeonho thought he was truly hopeless. Even knowing this man was dangerous, he was falling helplessly for the smallest gestures of kindness and care.

Where would this relationship end? Was Siwoo trying to convert him into some cult? Had mentally fragile Ju Yeonho been a target groomed for months?

After finishing a shoot at their first pre-selected spot, they found a cafe. While standing at the menu to order, Siwoo asked,

“You don’t like sweet things, do you?”

“How did you know?”

“You look like it. Sensitive, a little gaunt. People who like sweets don’t give off that kind of vibe.”

“You’re still young, but you’re already reading faces. My grandma was really into astrology and physiognomy. One of her shaman friends once told her that I have the face of someone who’ll commit murder. I was only five at the time.”

“She sounds pretty accurate.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Yeonho snapped a little, but Siwoo only smiled vaguely and replied with a soft grin.

“Sit down. I’ll pick for you. Just trust me.”

Yeonho let him choose without hesitation. Siwoo ordered himself a regular Americano, and for Yeonho, he ordered hibiscus tea. Yeonho was no longer surprised that Siwoo saw right through him. You could only be surprised by something a couple of times. At this point, it made more sense that the stalker would be more perceptive than even the Moon Sea Fairy.

“Thank you. I try to avoid caffeine when I can.”

“Good then. This tea has none.”

After losing his chance to pay for lunch and now again at the café, Yeonho fidgeted with the capsule toy he had pulled earlier and said,

“If you give me your account number, I’ll transfer what you spent today.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I’m the one who used it.”

“You’re still a student. Of course the older person should pay.”

“There’s barely an age gap between us.”

Yeonho smiled faintly at Siwoo trying to act like an adult when they were only a year apart. Still, he thought it would be less awkward to just treat him to dinner later instead of fussing over receipts. If they ended up spending more time together today, that is.

After the ski resort accident, Yeonho’s personality had changed a lot. He had become shy around strangers. It wasn’t that he lacked social skills, but he no longer enjoyed meeting people. But being with Siwoo made him talk more than usual. He even brought up personal stories that he hadn’t been asked about. Thinking he was not in his right mind made him less self-conscious about it.

“I majored in photography, but I also studied business. I wanted to become a photojournalist, but I’m not in a position to do only what I want. That’s why I postponed graduation last year. Since the resort has an art museum and a gallery, I think I’ll be in charge of selecting and managing the exhibition pieces. And if I keep taking photos, it would be nice to display my own work sometimes too.”

“So after the resort opens, you’ll be working here instead of the Seoul head office?”

“Yes. That’s the plan, for now. The head office comes later.”

He really did love photography, but he was starting to feel that it might be okay to let go of it someday. People only started showing interest in his work once his life began to fall apart.

Photographs taken and edited by someone with impaired sensory perception often ended up strangely captivating. The result others saw always seemed different from what Yeonho intended. Maybe it was luck, maybe a blessing. But it wasn’t a way of life he could continue forever.

Yeonho just wanted to sleep normally now. He wanted peace. He wanted to see the same colors and shapes as everyone else. And he wanted to be free from the strange compulsion to leave traces behind like evidence. He didn’t share any of these deeper thoughts with Siwoo.

Soon, Siwoo began talking about himself.

“I had a different major originally and studied business on the side. I was going to university in Korea, then studied abroad in the US partway through and graduated there. It hasn’t been long since I came back to Korea.”

Yeonho didn’t ask what Siwoo’s major was. He was curious about everything to do with Kim Siwoo, but he didn’t believe any of what the man said was true anyway.

Their plans ended with tea at the cafe. Yeonho had wanted to drive on the way back, but his limbs felt heavy and limp. He couldn’t bring himself to take the wheel.

There were times when you felt drowsy but knew you’d stay awake, and times when you knew you’d fall straight into sleep. Yeonho usually lived in the former state, but not today.

He nodded off, head drooping. He pinched his own cheek hard with his fingers to stay awake, then apologized to Siwoo.

“Sorry, I keep dozing off next to you while you’re driving.”

“It’s fine. Why are you worrying about that? If you’re tired, just sleep.”

“This is weird. I’ve never been like this in a car before.”

To Yeonho’s self-reproach, Siwoo replied without missing a beat.

“Maybe it’s because you didn’t have coffee.”

“I don’t drink coffee because of my insomnia.”

“So you avoid caffeine because of insomnia.”

Siwoo’s feigned realization made Yeonho feel disgusted. He had hugged Yeonho to sleep just last night. He had gone out of his way to bring him a caffeine-free tea, yet now he was pretending not to know anything. Kim Siwoo, a man whose real name he still didn’t know, was so fake and terrifying and eerie, and handsome. Sexy. Kind. Comforting.

Siwoo gently supported Yeonho’s drooping head and propped it upright, then asked,

“Can I ask why you have insomnia? I’m sorry if that’s too personal.”

“I wish I could tell you, but I don’t know the reason myself. One day I just woke up like that. Since then I’ve been… different. Something changed in me.”

Just before slipping into full sleep, Yeonho said something he never would have if he’d been fully awake.

“Mr Kim Siwoo… Be honest with me. You put something in the tea earlier, didn’t you… like a sedative or something…”

“What? That imagination of yours is something else.”

“You told me to just sit down… that you’d pick the drink. Whether you asked the staff or added it when you picked it up… This doesn’t feel like the sleep meds I usually take. This is too deep… too peaceful…”

He wasn’t joking. He truly suspected Siwoo. And if it wasn’t a sedative in the tea, maybe there was a similar compound in his cologne.

Siwoo snorted at the accusation, then answered with a smile, his tone oddly cheerful.

“Well, that makes sense. If someone with insomnia suddenly falls asleep this easily, there’s got to be a reason.”

“You’re awful.”

Taking that as confirmation, Yeonho pouted and weakly punched his arm. He knew the man was dangerous, yet he’d stayed with him anyway. There was no one else to blame now.

He thought he needed to fight off sleep, but it was useless. Drowsiness overcame him, and his eyes fluttered shut as his head tilted forward. If Siwoo was going to kill him, he hoped he’d do it cleanly while he was asleep. No dragging it out. No lingering pain.

After arriving at the underground parking lot of Condo A, Siwoo rested an arm on the wheel and turned to look at the sleeping Yeonho. He hadn’t given him any sedatives. He might have, if the situation had required it, but there had been no need.

The man fell asleep just by being beside him. Why go to the trouble? Yeonho, despite claiming to suffer from insomnia and sleep aid side effects, was sleeping like a baby, soft breaths, completely out.

When Siwoo stroked his light-brown, soft hair, Yeonho seemed to settle even more and fell into deeper sleep. Unlike yesterday, he didn’t look pitiful anymore. He looked like a recovering baby roe deer, resting after being well fed and well cared for.

Siwoo gently rubbed a fingertip along the outer corner of Yeonho’s eye. The line curved upward in a smooth arc, seductive, but overall he looked languid and sorrowful. His exhausted appearance somehow matched perfectly with his quiet, mellow voice.

Anyone with ordinary aesthetic sense would find Yeonho beautiful. Anyone with sexual desire would be aroused, regardless of whether they were a man or a woman.

“You know exactly how pretty you are, don’t you.”

Unbuckling his seatbelt, Siwoo leaned in close to Yeonho and inhaled the breath he was exhaling. He wanted to kiss those filthy lips that had been all over his stepbrothers. But instead, Siwoo directed that impulse elsewhere. He reached for Yeonho’s long, slender neck. As if to strangle him.