LLU 69

He is quite particular about things like suits, shoes, and watches. Even to me, who does not know much about luxury brands, they all look like items of very high quality that he wears and carries. And he liked giving such things to me as gifts. Even though in reality I had nowhere to wear them out to.

And one more characteristic of Choi Junghan. The skill with which he puts on cuff links.

He owns countless glittering, gem-like objects. He picks up one of them with his long fingers and slips it into his cuff in just a few seconds. His speed and dexterity are so impressive that I cannot help but have my gaze stolen by it. Sometimes it even looks a little like a performance art.

Today will be the last time I watch him do that. No, since he would not wear a suit to go see a movie, yesterday was probably the last time.

When I thought that far, I let out a snort of laughter. What snapped me out of my endlessly drifting consciousness was Choi Junghan’s voice.

“What are you staring at like that.”

When I startled out of my thoughts, he had already come right up in front of me.

“I wasn’t looking at you.”

“Why are you tempting me. You were the one who said let’s go see a movie.”

A low and soft tone carried a hint of playfulness. I roughly brushed off the hand that was stroking my hair without hesitation. Choi Junghan paid it no mind and reached out again to touch me, then suddenly bent his upper body and kissed my cheek.

His lips, which had been tracing along my jawline, gradually moved to my lips. The hand that had been caressing my earlobe slid down and touched my chest. Just as the contact was naturally about to deepen, I slapped his hand away again and sharpened my gaze.

“Get lost.”

“Was I mistaken? I thought you wanted to give up going out and just roll around with me.”

His voice, carrying hot breath, tickled and broke apart near my ear.

“Then why are you looking at me with such heated eyes.”

“Ha… enough, hurry up and let’s go. We’ll be late.”

To think I stared at a person like this for so long. It seems the word “last” has the ability to turn people into idiots. Letting out a sigh tinged with disgust, I tried to stand up, but Choi Junghan lightly pressed my shoulder to stop my movement.

“Oon-ah.”

He called me softly once more, even though I did not answer.

“Pioon.”

“…What. If you called me, say it quickly.”

Despite my tone clearly laced with irritation, he did not waver. His calm gaze slowly locked with mine.

“Are you really going?”

His steady voice wrapped around my heart.

For a moment I was seized by a strange feeling. My heart thudded dangerously as it plummeted. It felt as though Choi Junghan was asking me even though he already knew everything. There is no CCTV or anything installed in the bathroom. There had been no sign at all while I was collecting “those things.” So there was no way Choi Junghan could know about my plan.

“…You promised you’d show me a movie.”

To hide my agitation, I deliberately glared at him fiercely. I hoped that in his eyes my agitation would look like mere whining about not getting to see the movie.

“Forget it, then. If what you need is a doll you can keep locked up at home for a hundred or a thousand days just to have sex with, then do that.”

I spat the words out and roughly tried to shrug off the jacket I was wearing. But in the next moment, his approaching hand gently wrapped around my wrist.

“Don’t get angry. Oon-ah.”

“Enough, let go. I’m not trying to rile anyone up—”

“Okay, I get it. I was wrong, so let’s go. Yeah?”

His voice sounded like he was soothing a child. At his attitude—like an owner calming a cat wildly swiping its front paws—I was momentarily speechless.

For some reason, instead of anger, a melancholic feeling rose up. The fact that Choi Junghan soothing me now looked so practiced.

“Our Oon-ah has been saying since yesterday that he wants to see a movie, so of course I have to take him.”

A ticklish kiss gently landed on my forehead. Although I had been slapping away his touch every time it reached me, strangely this time I felt no urge to do so and just let it be. Was this another whim granted by the word “last”?

Before taking me out, Choi Junghan sat me on the bed, bent down, and carefully examined my ankle. Once the ankle that had worn the shackle, and once the ankle that had been broken and was now nearly a year healed. After confirming there was nothing wrong, he personally put socks on my feet. Today, he was behaving unusually tenderly.

“Let’s go. Oon-ah.”

As Choi Junghan left the house holding my wrist lightly, a strangely different aura than usual emanated from him. He was originally a person skilled at controlling his emotions. For someone as stubbornly composed and coldly rational as him to have excitement leaking out meant that right now he was feeling excited in a way that was unlike him.

It is just disgusting pretense. It was my ankle that he ruined with his own hands. Should I feel grateful to him for examining that very place? Locking me up and then getting all excited about going out with me like that… what emotion besides hatred should I feel toward him?

Strangely, the melancholy I had felt just moments ago refused to fade. I sat in the passenger seat next to Choi Junghan, who was driving himself without a chauffeur, and leaned my head against the car window. Since we had decided to see an evening screening, by now a white moon was floating in the sky.

It was a thin, small moon like a baby’s fingernail. If my plan succeeded, tonight I would be looking at that moon alone.

All these nauseating behaviors would finally end. The meaningless act of devouring and damaging each other while letting time slip away. Choi Junghan would stay here and hold his place, and I would go find my own intact life.

True to his taste—he did not like crowded places—Choi Junghan chose a quiet and private theater instead of one located in a department store or shopping mall.

From some point onward, when going out with me, Choi Junghan no longer brought bodyguards. Sometimes he brought a driver, but as time passed he increasingly preferred being alone with me.

Knowing that, I had chosen this method. Escaping from Choi Junghan’s house was practically impossible. Personal bodyguards were stationed at the entrance, and the security of the officetel building itself was extremely strict. The longer I spent in his house, the firmer the conclusion became that escaping from there was impossible.

But if I lost him in a crowd, the story changed. If only the “thing” I had prepared worked properly… it was not an entirely impossible plan. Since it was my first outing in a long time, I had thought perhaps one or two bodyguards might come along, but that was not the case either. In every way, things were proceeding smoothly according to plan.

Except for the agitation in my heart that even I could not understand.

Even when holding Choi Junghan’s hand and entering the theater, even when moving to the concession stand to wait for the remaining few minutes before the movie started, the melancholy persisted without reason. Every step I took felt like a stone inside my chest clanking and rattling, uncomfortably jarring my heart.

Each time, I took discreet deep breaths. Having come this far, I could not foolishly ruin everything like an idiot. To calm my agitated mind, I repeatedly clenched and unclenched the hand that was not held by Choi Junghan.

Choi Junghan stood in front of the quiet concession stand and asked.

“Do you want popcorn?”

“No.”

“Something to drink?”

“…Cola.”

“One coffee and one cola, please.”

He took the two drinks placed in a carrier. I matched his steps as we walked down the softly lit corridor with indirect lighting. Entering the cozy interior of the theater, I took another deep breath.

The large theater where the advertisements were playing was dark, yet here and there indirect lights provided a cozy glow. Instead of seats where people had to sit pressed close together, sofas for two were placed at sufficient distances. Even those were almost completely empty, practically deserted.

The movie we came to see today was a remastered version of a 1960s Hong Kong film. I had always liked watching movies alone, and since my tastes were not mainstream, I watched a wide variety of things.

So during my student days I had seen a few Hong Kong films, and I liked their characteristic intense colors and the romantic yet languid atmosphere. Perhaps because the ones I saw were all by the same director, that was how I felt. Among them, I quite liked one or two and had rewatched them several times.

The one we came to see today with Choi Junghan was also by that director. It was not intentional; it was purely coincidence. After excluding Hollywood or commercial films that would likely be too crowded and considering appropriate time slots, this was the only one left.

The advertisements ended, and the indirect lights that had been illuminating various parts of the theater went out. After a brief moment of complete darkness, red Chinese characters began to fill the screen. The movie title and actors’ names appeared clearly before fading away.

An actress in a cheongsam, and the male actor facing her. I held my breath and took in their performances, which could truly be said to have defined an era. The lazily rising cigarette smoke. The director’s signature color palette. The mise-en-scène that felt thoroughly calculated and perfectly executed…

With just that fleeting impression, I was transported back to the winter after my college entrance exam. The memory of watching movies alone in a dark, empty house after finishing my part-time job.

The electric blanket and old cotton quilt spread over the floor that stayed cold even with the boiler on. The television light that dyed the wallpaper red in the dark room. The winter nights when I blankly watched several films alone, letting time pass. The painfully lonely hours.

“…Do you like movies?”

It was purely impulsive. Whispering that into Choi Junghan’s ear. He turned his head, looked at me for a moment, then answered with a faint smile.

“Not particularly.”

“Have you seen any of this director’s films?”

“I’ve seen a few. Including this one.”

While looking at Choi Junghan’s face as he answered sincerely, I swallowed the words I had been about to say. Yet seeing that he was still ready to listen even after the conversation ended, I could not hold back the impulse again.

“…Which of this director’s was your favorite.”

“Hm.”

After a low hum in his throat, the answer he whispered into my ear was one that matched my own taste. It was the movie I had rewatched many times.

I shut my mouth and quietly turned my head toward the screen. Choi Junghan also quickly focused back on the movie. The trivial answer I had just heard from Choi Junghan kept spinning around in my head.

Come to think of it, I had never even asked Choi Junghan if he wanted to see this movie. I just said I wanted to watch a movie, and unilaterally picked this one out of the several options he offered. In short, it was the first time I had ever been curious about something like Choi Junghan’s taste.

‘Why would I care about that.’

Self-mockery leaked out on its own. I swallowed a sigh inwardly. Thinking about old times had made me fall too deeply into sentiment without realizing it. Now I needed to pull myself together and do what I had to do.

I had already decided in advance to leave after the movie was about one-third through, because getting up right away would arouse suspicion. Checking the wristwatch Choi Junghan had put on me, about thirty minutes had passed. The man sitting beside me had his arms crossed and was focusing on the movie without the slightest movement.

“…I’m going to the bathroom for a bit.”

“Want me to come with you?”

“No.”

When I made a face of disgust at his idiotic question, he laughed. Without any lingering attachment, I turned and left the theater.

I ran into the bathroom visible right in front of me. I entered a stall, locked the door, and took out what I had prepared from the inner pocket of my jacket. It was finely ground sleeping powder, enough for about five pills in total.

If I ingested all of it, I would probably need a stomach pump, but that would not happen. At best, with luck, he might ingest the equivalent of three or four pills. Choi Junghan would not suck the melted-ice cola all the way to the bottom.

In truth, it was uncertain whether he would even drink the cola. But there was no way to snatch his coffee, dump the sleeping powder in, and make him drink it again, so I had no choice. I had to bet on tonight with this uncertain hope. If it failed… I could try again.

I opened the small zipper bag containing the sleeping powder and hid it right inside my cuff. So I could immediately dump it into the drink. I loosely blocked the opening with my finger to prevent the powder from spilling, then left the bathroom.

My heart was pounding as if it would shatter. Passing through the corridor brightly lit with warm light and re-entering the theater, my vision darkened again. On the screen, along with the actors’ intense performance, the famous Latin music used as the representative insert song was flowing out.

Choi Junghan was still staring at the screen in an unmoving posture. No expression rose on his face. For a fleeting moment I wondered what on earth Choi Junghan was thinking while watching the movie, but I soon scoffed at myself inwardly. …None of my business.