JKA 89

“Ah, I’m hungry from using my brain. Should we get something to eat?”

“It hasn’t been long since we had lunch, sunbae. Stop making excuses and hurry up and look at the summary.”

“Jiwoon. Aren’t you hungry?”

“I, I do feel a little p, peckish…”

“Don’t humor his every whim. If you follow this oppa around while he’s eating, you won’t escape becoming a pig.”

“Am I hearing you call me a pig?”

“Sorry.”

Jiwoon let out a small laugh at the sight of the two bickering comfortably. Before the semester even ended, Jiwoon had told Heechan, the club president, of his intention to join the department club. It was because he didn’t want to nullify the sense of belonging he had worked so hard to gain while spending time with them.

Just then, the closed door to the department lounge opened and Hanbyeol walked in. Jiwoon was about to ask him if he did well on his exam, but Hanbyeol strode forward with a deep frown and said.

“Hey, why did you leave so early? Making a person anxious?”

“The top student is keeping his rival in check.”

At Jihye’s words, Jiwoon giggled along with Sanghyun. Hanbyeol, as if feeling wronged, plopped down in the seat across from Jiwoon and exclaimed as if tattling.

“No, I mean, when he leaves that quickly, it makes you think, ‘Ah, what is this? Was the test super easy? Am I the only one finding it difficult?’”

“For someone who thinks that, you came out pretty early too.”

“That’s right. What’s a few minutes’ difference? I’ve seen this before, this is definitely him keeping you in check.”

“I said it’s not a check! You, you studied more behind my back, didn’t you? You lied yesterday about leaving the study cafe first and stayed there, didn’t you?”

“N, no. I, I went h, home then.”

“That interrogation is over the top. The way he’s stuttering a bit more, could it be that he’s lying?”

“I, I really went home!”

Jiwoon protested as if he’d been wronged, but Hanbyeol, without even meeting his eyes, took out the remaining exam materials from his bag. Sanghyun, who had been siding with Hanbyeol, decided he was hungry no matter how he thought about it and opened a delivery app.

At first, they had treated Jiwoon with the utmost care, but before long, they had included Jiwoon in their circle of comfortable friendship. After he became able to naturally join in on the teasing words and free-flowing conversations, many things became easier for Jiwoon.

How should he put it? It didn’t just feel like they were hanging out with him, but like he had truly settled within their boundary. Hanbyeol’s attitude had also become much more relaxed than before. He still worried and cared for him the most, but it felt like they were finally standing on the same line.

In a short period of time, there had been many changes for Jiwoon and those around him. But none of it was special. As the events that had been so significant to him were incorporated into a trivial daily life, Jiwoon was able to enjoy a real university life for the first time in a year and a half.

“Sunbae, I’ll have an iced Americano.”

“…You called me a pig, so how did you know I was looking at cafes?”

“I just know. Jiwoon, what do you want to drink?”

“Are you buying?”

“Oh, are you treating us?”

Only then did Jihye tear her eyes away from the summary for the first time and smile brightly. Hanbyeol, seizing the opportunity, added, “Me too, an iced Americano.” Then Sanghyun stared at Jiwoon with a look that seemed to say, “You wouldn’t do that, would you?” Jiwoon pretended not to notice his gaze and said.

“I, I’ll have an iced Americano too.”

“Myeong Jiwoon… Ha. Myeong Jiwoon!”

“W, we have to m, meet the m, minimum order am, amount anyway, right?”

“Wow… The minimum order amount? I’ve raised a tiger cub, I have.”

“In that case, you should call it the minimum pig amount. Sunbae can meet it all by himself anyway. Because he won’t be drinking an iced Americano. He’s going to order a waffle too.”

“Choi Jihye, come out. Let’s go.”

“With our grades?”

“…Just you wait.”

Sanghyun ground his teeth, but amusingly, he was kindly adding his juniors’ requests to the shopping cart. Hanbyeol looked at Jiwoon, who was choosing a waffle next to Sanghyun, and then opened his mouth.

“You’re going to Film Night this evening, right?”

“I, I have to go.”

The movie they had all worked so hard to film was scheduled to be screened at Film Night, a department event that followed the end-of-semester general meeting.

“B, but I m, might not be able to go to the a, after-party.”

“Why?”

Everyone in the department lounge looked at Jiwoon with surprised eyes.

“W, well, H, Heechan-hyung a, asked me what I thought about t, telling my p, parents since it’s the f, first m, movie I’m in.”

“Ah… that’s a thing. It’s your debut, after all. So, are they coming? Didn’t you say your family home is in Busan?”

At Jihye’s question, Jiwoon nodded. At first, he had repeatedly refused, thinking it was a bit strange to invite his parents to a video made at university, but Heechan had insisted it wasn’t a big deal in their department, so he had reluctantly contacted them.

He could only vaguely guess that it was because he had once told Heechan a roundabout version of his brother’s story while watching the completed edited version.

Episode 60

Jiwoon, having gotten a waffle on top of an Americano, headed to his studio apartment as there was a long time left until Film Night. It was because there were too many people coming and going to just kill time in the department lounge. Although he was much more comfortable dealing with people than before, it was a little difficult when there were too many unfamiliar faces.

Hanbyeol had a remaining exam, so Jiwoon climbed the uphill road home alone. He let out the breath that was lightly rising in his chest and, in the middle of walking, kept looking back. The sign of the coin laundry he had passed was getting farther and farther away.

As he had announced, 17 disappeared from Jiwoon’s sight after the remaining filming was over. When he returned home after the small after-party, there was no sign of anyone in the dark, narrow studio apartment. Dead drunk, Jiwoon had plopped down on a chair and stared out the dark window for a long time before falling asleep at some point.

Waking up to the sound of the whirring washing machine and the stream of water pouring from the kitchen faucet, Jiwoon greeted a quiet and late morning for the first time in a long while. Before washing up, he was terribly thirsty, and when he squatted down and flung open the small refrigerator, he discovered a pot that filled an entire shelf.

Forgetting that he was even trying to drink water, right after he took out the pot and opened it, Jiwoon keenly realized that the being who did everything for him was no longer there. Inside the pot was bean sprout soup. Jiwoon knew that it was the last meal 17 had prepared.

Jiwoon never brought up the topic of his returned memories to 17. He treated him as if nothing had happened. Therefore, he couldn’t know whether 17 had noticed or not. But he guessed that he wouldn’t have left without knowing anything. Just as he suspected that 17 was the one who had changed his memories, the same would be true for him.

17 was always there in the memories where Lee Zeo should have been. And 17 took over most of the things Zeo had done for him. Things like preparing meals and doing laundry. The intention to prevent him from noticing anything unusual became clear after he regained his memories.

Jiwoon, too, had acted as if nothing was wrong, even though the time of departure was right around the corner. Jiwoon didn’t want to hold onto 17 for long. It wasn’t because he resented or hated him. It was because there was nothing left that 17 could fill for him anymore.

He no longer needed an angel. He knew that even if he confronted 17 about the past, he wouldn’t be able to meet Zeo again. He now knew that if there had been a future where he could continue to be with him, he wouldn’t have had his memories erased and he wouldn’t have disappeared in the first place. A life spent entrusting everything to someone else was meaningless.

So, Jiwoon put the pot on the gas stove. He set a spoon on the table and heated up instant rice, preparing a late breakfast and an early lunch. He sat at the table, which was sufficient with just soup and rice and no side dishes, and ate. Then he gathered the comforter, sheet, and pillowcase and went to the coin laundry.

He sat facing the spinning washing machine and stared blankly, then moved to a seat in front of the dryer and sat for a long time. He silently shed tears under the fan that was attached to the wall and spinning ceaselessly, but he didn’t cry after that.

He simply started to imitate the things Zeo, who remained in his memory, did. He woke up earlier than usual to prepare meals, and on weekends, he headed to the coin laundry. He sorted the recycling and threw out the trash on the correct days. He couldn’t do it as skillfully as Zeo, so he bought post-it notes and wrote down the tasks for each day on the front door.

Jiwoon’s home was maintained just as Zeo had left it. It could no longer be called a garbage dump. When loneliness rose to his chin and threatened to overflow, he went to a study cafe or had drinks with Hanbyeol or other film club members. He listened to other people’s dreams and sometimes lay in bed and worried about tomorrow.

Still, when it was absolutely unbearable, he would lie down and watch YouTube. It wasn’t that he watched anything profound. Even if the many people who had appeared by his side poured out all sorts of stories without rest, and even if he listened to them, it wasn’t as if something he wanted to do would suddenly appear with a flash.

He still had nothing he wanted to do, and so tomorrow was daunting, but Jiwoon did his best to maintain his current state. If he focused on what he could do now, he could pretend not to know many things. So what he ended up watching were things like how to clean a bathroom or simple recipes for one.

He repeated things like burning a fried egg, which others make easily, or getting a fright after thoughtlessly tossing in an eight-serving portion of dried seaweed to make seaweed soup. Maintaining a daily routine was harder than he thought, and it was a repetition of unexpected incidents.

Still, Jiwoon was doing quite well. After cooking his heart out while watching YouTube, he’d find he had no instant rice; these minor mistakes and trials and errors became experience, and led to small topics of conversation to share with people. The same went for food he made too salty or too bland. Jiwoon was slowly learning that the stories people share are mostly about things like this.

When he reached the front of his house after climbing the increasingly steep hill, Jiwoon swept up his sweaty bangs and suddenly realized his hair had gotten quite long. Now that he noticed, he thought about going to get it cut, but he quickly gave up the idea.

‘I’m enlisting after this semester ends.’

Hanbyeol had said it out of the blue while they were drinking together. Most of their classmates had already enlisted, so it wasn’t particularly surprising, but for him to announce his enlistment for July, which was next month, without any prior word, made Jiwoon’s eyes widen.

‘I had a lot of worries, but the timing felt right.’

He said that if possible, he had wanted to go as quickly as possible like his other classmates, but there were many things holding him back at home. Jiwoon knew well what that meant, so he nodded. His younger sibling was still young, and his mother was unwell. And his father must have been a great concern as well.

From Hanbyeol’s perspective, his father’s death was a blessing in disguise. And for some reason, saying that he couldn’t see the demon anymore, Hanbyeol hesitated for a long time, about to say something, then stopping, before he finally grabbed Jiwoon, unusually drunk, and spoke.

‘Actually, there’s something I really want to tell you.’

Hanbyeol hesitated with a reddened face and looked at Jiwoon. For some reason, that moment didn’t feel unfamiliar to Jiwoon. It was probably because it reminded him of the time he had made a slip of the tongue to Hanbyeol. Though their positions were the complete opposite.

‘I’m scared, I’m so scared I can’t say it…’

Hanbyeol, with his head bowed low, seemed to lose the strength in his legs and slowly squatted down, letting out a long breath. Jiwoon sat down facing Hanbyeol and looked at him. Then, Hanbyeol, who had been maintaining a long silence, laid out a long confession.