PHUW 54

The memorial forest was on the gentle mid-slope of a mountain with a temple at its side.
Normally they didn’t allow dogs, but since Jeong Mok had decided he too would be buried there after death, he had signed a family lot contract and the forest staff had made an exception. And since both Song-i and Jeong Mok disliked crowded places, he had bought an adjoining spot at the very top edge of the forest so there would be plenty of room.

“Song-i, oppa is here.”

Jeong Mok greeted the young beech tree just beginning to grow. It was far too frail to lean against its trunk and enjoy its shade. Around it lay overgrown weeds, dry pinecones, and yellowed fallen leaves. The forest was kept diligently, so it didn’t look dirty, but knowing Song-i’s tidy nature, it didn’t feel good enough to Jeong Mok.

He had come in a rush, with no tools prepared. But it was fine. With his bare hands Jeong Mok plucked up the weeds and scraped away the old leaves. Once he cleared the area, he saw unruly branches sticking out and withered leaves past their time.

“How can a young lady who never even married look so messy.”

He went down to the forest management office, borrowed pruning shears and a rake, then came back up. He trimmed back the branches that stuck out, swept away the wilted leaves, and cleared them with the old fallen leaves. Then he poured water mixed with nutrients bought at the center until the soil was soaked.

“Our Song-i, you look so pretty after being tidied up.”

Smiling warmly, he admired the tree glistening with water. Then he sat down on the dry ground the water hadn’t reached, resting his arms on his knees.

From the temple came the sound of a wooden fish, marking the time for chanting. The smell of incense drifted on the wind to Jeong Mok. The incense mixed with the fresh mountain breeze soothed the unease in his chest that had lingered the whole way to the forest. When he raised his head, the sky met his eyes, its midday brilliance already softened. The afternoon sunlight was gentle, yet the blue was still dazzling.

“Something strange has been happening to me lately.”

Jeong Mok quietly told everything that had happened. The ridiculous way he met Ahn Haeri, the shock of his first impression looking so much like her, Haeri’s unfortunate story that could not be explained by bad luck alone. When it came to talking about Gom-i, he felt so self-conscious he couldn’t even look at the tree. At that moment a strong wind blew, shaking the branches wildly. It felt almost like anger.

“I’m really sorry. I don’t like him more than you. He’s Haeri’s friend. He’s the friend of a friend, that’s why I brought him. My number one dog will always be you, Song-i.”

Jeong Mok hurriedly apologized. The tree that had been shaking went still as if nothing had happened. For a moment Jeong Mok truly wondered if Song-i’s soul lived in the beech tree. Somehow it seemed like something Song-i would do.

With a breath of relief, Jeong Mok carefully brought up his current state.

Because of the resemblance in looks, because of the similarity in actions, he had simply felt comfortable with Ahn Harri. But now he was feeling a strange sensation he had never known in his life. He confessed with difficulty that it was hard to deal with, since it was a kind of emotion he had never felt toward any man, or even any woman.

“I don’t know why I suddenly feel this way. It doesn’t seem like it’s just because you two look alike.”

He lamented how, if that were the only reason, he should have felt something similar toward anyone else who looked like her. Then he brought up what was to him a relatively minor issue of gender.

“I didn’t know because there hasn’t been anyone I spent a long time with besides you. Did you know, maybe?”

Just then the wind rustled, and the young beech tree swayed up and down as if nodding. Though it was only a chain of coincidences, Jeong Mok let out a hollow laugh.

“You knew, and only oppa didn’t.”

The beech tree wasn’t truly Song-i. Even if it had been, it wasn’t as if she could fully understand or respond to what Jeong Mok confessed like a person. He was only interpreting small coincidences for his own comfort. But Jeong Mok no longer doubted his orientation.

He was someone who felt desire not toward women but toward men. In other words, he was homosexual. That was why he had never once felt desire toward any woman. At the same time, his ideal type was someone who resembled Song-i both in looks and in personality. The standard was so specific that the scope was extremely narrow. Among women, there were some with a similar appearance, but from the start their gender excluded them as sexual targets. Among men, there were none who matched both appearance and personality.

As a result, the combination of inevitability in his family background and the chance encounter with Song-i created a sexual preference as tiny as fine dust. Because the boundary was the size of a speck of dust, even Jeong Mok himself had lived believing he had no sexual desire at all. He even mistook it for the outcome of his deliberate effort to suppress desire out of trauma from Jeong Yeongil. In truth, he had never felt sexual desire to begin with.

Since childhood he had gone through countless counseling programs and psychiatric treatments, yet he had failed to grasp something so basic about himself. It was absurd, and above all, pathetic.

“There’s no bigger fool.”

With a long sigh, Jeong Mok propped his chin on his hand.

The near-impossible task of slipping through an unseen, tiny gap, Ahn Haeri had done it without even knowing. Even after cooling his head and reconsidering, he could not deny the fact. All the more so if he thought back to how he had nearly done something to Haeri earlier. His sinister impulse toward Haeri would only grow stronger, never weaker.

The combined conclusion of these facts was only one: the beginning of an uncontrollable obsession with Ahn Haeri.

‘Dangerous.’

A red warning light blinked in his head. He had agonized over it the whole way. Even after telling Song-i and reconsidering, the danger only became clearer. He could not find any reason to look at it positively.

Even if Haeri was a man, there was a physical difference. He would not be able to push him away by force if Jeong Mok pressed him. And since he was a parentless orphan with no one behind him, if Jeong Mok, having lost his mind, truly suppressed him, there would be no one to protect him. Considering the homeless shelter incident, the authorities weren’t even worth mentioning.

And that wasn’t all.

Ahn Haeri was a perfectly normal twenty-four-year-old man. He would hold common notions about sex. And even if by chance he belonged to the same kind as Jeong Mok, there was no guarantee that his ideal type would be Jeong Mok. Suppose, just suppose, Haeri really did feel affection toward Jeong Mok.

‘That would be grooming.’

He was in difficult circumstances, and socially was hardly different from a minor, even unstable with no family and no memories. Naturally, he would lean on an adult nearby. To use that as a weapon to gain personal benefit would be grooming. If that happened, it would only worsen the paternal traits Jeong Mok hated so much. It would be a straight ride to, at best, a psychiatric ward, at worst, a heinous crime.

Absolutely not.

He had no special mission. He did pity Noh Heejae, but more than that he hated the idea of ending up like Jeong Yeongil.

Jeong Mok had lived his whole life denying Jeong Yeongil’s blood. He hated being born the son of such trash. He hated the face that resembled him.

After Song-i’s death he had even thought of following after her, but in some way that kind of obsession felt too much like Jeong Yeongil as well.

Rather than breaking apart easily like filth such as Jeong Yeongil and fleeing into death, he wanted to do at least one good thing for the world. That was why he had decided to resume the construction work. He would see it through to the end.

So he had to live on. So Song-i would not be ashamed of him. And so he could dilute Jeong Yeongil’s blood, even a little more.

Fortunately, reason still prevailed. This was the best time to cut off the budding danger.

Bzzzz.

The phone in his pocket vibrated. It was Haeri.

Jeong Mok had already reached Ahn Haeri conclusion, he unlocked the phone with a steadier gaze.

Where are you, will it take long, I made soybean paste stew, though only text, he could hear Haeri’s lively voice vividly, almost like a voice note. Normally, he would have hurried back, praised him for the effort of preparing dinner. But now, he could not.

He told him to eat first. Not to wait. Haeri sensed his irritation, he asked if he was angry, apologized that it was his fault. The timid brown eyes came to mind.

He replied that it wasn’t so, but he didn’t expect Haeri to believe it. This wasn’t Haeri’s fault. It was entirely his own problem. But it was better to leave the misunderstanding. He had to.

Then Haeri said he had something he wanted to say. Something he had to say face to face. Whatever it was, it would only risk shaking Jeong Mok’s resolve. An Haeri looking him straight in the eye and speaking seriously was, to him, the most dangerous thing of all.

The sun was close to the horizon. As the faint light lingering on the ridge quickly faded, Jeong Mok rose, brushed himself off, and bid farewell to Song-i.

Darkness spread fast over the highway. The orange streetlights lit Jeong Mok’s face at intervals. His expressionless face didn’t move an inch, like a rigid statue, when he reached the village entrance and parked the car in the lot.