PAHO 76

Sleet scattered and swirled across the dark blue mountain ridge. The car, which had been rolling along unstably with a clatter, finally came to a stop.

“That’s enough. I guess it’s protesting that it can’t even move because of the cold.”

Unable to watch the struggling any longer, the old priest spoke as if to console him. The young acolyte, who had checked his phone when it rang, clicked his tongue.

“The insurance company says they can’t come right away because of the heavy snow. For now, we should go back to the orphanage, and if the situation hasn’t improved by Monday, we can call an emergency taxi or something then….”

A sudden burst of a cough caused the voice that had been tickling his ear to fade away. Nam Gyeonhwa weakly blinked his heavy eyelids, matted with discharge. While all around him was dark, steeped in the desolate night air, his warm breath shattered whitely.

Even though he was clearly lying down, his vision wavered as if he were upside down, starting from the crown of his head. His throat and stomach felt as hot as if he had swallowed a lump of lava, while at the same time, a chill tickled his skin, making it impossible to uncurl his huddled body. In that moment, a bright light flooded in. After a clunking noise, the priest who had opened the car door placed a hand on Nam Gyeonhwa’s forehead.

Warm air, instead of the chilly air from outside, touched his cheek. An unfamiliar scent.

“Thank you for giving us a ride so readily in the middle of the night.”

“Not at all. You must have had a hard time, working this late. The insurance companies are reluctant to come out this way since it’s far, unless it’s a big case. Besides, I heard this flu is especially nasty.”

Following the voice, he strenuously turned his eyes to the side and saw a padded sleeve gripping the steering wheel. So that’s where the nice smell is coming from. A decorative chain hanging from the rearview mirror dangled with the bumpy vibration of the car. A picture of a young child in a frame.

“It reminds me of the old days. My son was born with a weak respiratory system, so he suffered from pneumonia when he was little. The picture here is of my son. He’s probably around the same age as your son, sir. …No, my son lives separately in Seoul. I can’t even say I’m a good mother in passing. What child would like a mother whose face he can’t even see? But to him….”

Clunk, the car’s body shook. A palm rested on Nam Gyeonhwa’s forehead as he coughed painfully. Along with a warmth that seemed to say it was all right now, a haze of light dissolved into his tears.

The dazed sensation faded, as if he had emerged from a long tunnel. Nam Gyeonhwa, who barely managed to lift eyelids that felt as if they were stitched shut, slowly turned his eyes from side to side to survey his surroundings. White steam rising lazily from a humidifier and the cool smell of alcohol touched the tip of his nose. A hospital—no, to be precise, it was the medical center. How did I get here? His whole body was as heavy as waterlogged cotton, and he had no memory of anything after lying down on the sofa.

Then does that mean Haejin is in that house all alone? Overcome with anxiety, Nam Gyeonhwa fumbled to sit up and discovered Nam Haejin curled up in a ball, asleep on the chair across from him. He seemed to be in a deep sleep, as he only let out a small groan when Nam Gyeonhwa touched him, showing no sign of waking. Nam Gyeonhwa, who had been quietly gazing at the serene face, picked him up and laid him down properly on the bed he had just been lying in.

Suddenly, he heard voices from not too far away. “I mean, there’s such a thing as a reasonable degree of corporal punishment. That councilman complained to me so much about it, I thought my ears were going to bleed.” “You should have told him to shut up before you shoved an oxygen mask in his gob.” “Director, really.” Just as he felt the presence getting closer, Yeo Eunjae, who was pushing aside the curtain, saw the standing Nam Gyeonhwa and approached in surprise.

“Why are you up? You should just lie down.”

“I’m awake, and I don’t think I need to lie down anymore.”

Nam Gyeonhwa replied gently, then blinked blankly at the familiar face that followed him in. Why was Na Taebeom of all people here? Before he could voice his question, Yeo Eunjae urged Nam Gyeonhwa to sit in a chair and checked his fever and breathing with a thermometer and stethoscope.

“Your fever has gone down for now, but your immune system is extremely weak, so it could easily come back. For now, finish this IV drip, and I’ll check on you again after that.”

“Okay.”

“And, Mr. Nam Gyeonhwa, um….”

Yeo Eunjae glanced once at Na Taebeom standing beside him and cautiously continued.

“We ran some tests while you were sleeping, and your anemia levels are currently borderline, and your nutrition is very unbalanced. From the looks of it, you don’t seem to be sleeping well either. This slows down your usual recovery, and most importantly, it puts a lot of strain on your heart. For the next few weeks, make sure to eat well with high-quality, high-calorie meals, and absolutely do not overexert yourself. Otherwise, you could be sick with just this cold for a whole month.”

“…Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. I’m on duty today, so if your fever comes back or any other problems arise, just press the call button right away.”

Yeo Eunjae, who lightly patted his shoulder as if in encouragement, turned and nodded at Na Taebeom standing beside him. Nam Gyeonhwa, who had been silently watching Yeo Eunjae leave, opened his mouth.

“What happened? Why is Director Na here at this hour?”

“Why else would I be here? You passed out with a fever, so I was kind enough to carry you to the medical center. Jeez, what a damn mess in the middle of the night.”

“A fever?”

“Yeah, you mutt, your fever was over forty degrees Celsius. What the hell were you thinking, not going to the medical center in that state? Huh? I was the only one who got an earful from Doctor Yeo.”

Na Taebeom, who complained loudly enough for him to hear, shrugged his shoulders. For a moment, Nam Gyeonhwa looked back at Nam Haejin, who was tossing and turning while talking in his sleep, then stood up and grabbed the IV stand.

“First, let’s go talk somewhere else.”

Nam Gyeonhwa, who had stopped in the hallway a short distance away, got a cup of water from the water dispenser and drank it. Wetting his mouth, which had been uncomfortably dry from thirst after waking up, made him feel much better. The headache still lingered faintly, but it was bearable. Wiping his wet mouth with his sleeve, Nam Gyeonhwa leaned his body against the wall.

“So, why did you suddenly come to the house?”

“Huh? Well, I hadn’t seen you for two days, so I came to check if you were doing okay.”

His consistently confident tone softened slightly. At his questionable demeanor, Nam Gyeonhwa narrowed his brow.

“Is that really all?”

“What’s with that reaction? Do I need some grand reason to drop by my own private property?”

“No, it’s not that, I just wondered if there was something important enough to stop by so late.”

“I come if I want to come. What does something important have to do with it? Thanks to me, you mutt were brought back from the dead.”

“Director Na is right.”

At the ready admission, a strange look crossed Na Taebeom’s face. Nam Gyeonhwa, who cleared his dry throat, opened his mouth.

“Thank you. I mean it. You must have had your hands full because of me, and thank you for bringing Haejin along, too.”

“…Well, now that you’re thanking me right away, I don’t have anything to say.”

He let out a needless cough and fidgeted with his perfectly fine bangs. It seemed the words of thanks made him feel awkward instead.

“Still, from now on, at least tell me when you’re coming home. If you just show up in the middle of the night, the kid gets scared.”

“…Well, I’ll consider it.”

The conversation died, and only the sound of quiet breathing became clear. Nam Gyeonhwa, who was massaging the back of his neck, spoke up.

“Are you, your body, okay?”

“My body?”

“The, the alcohol last time. You took two days off, so I thought the poisoning was more severe than I expected.”

“Ah, well, I’m fine. Now.”

Na Taebeom smacked his lips, lowered his eyes, and studied Nam Gyeonhwa. His face, which had gone through a bout of fever, was drenched in sweat, looking haggard yet fair. On top of that, the light caught on his still-damp lips, making them glisten. Like a perfectly ripe fruit, his neat appearance and pale, clear complexion even gave a sense of fulfillment, as if viewing a piece of intimate, obscene art. Does it make sense for him to look so pretty when he was just pitifully wasting away a moment ago?

“What is it?”

Nam Gyeonhwa cocked his head with an expression that asked if he had more to say. At the elegant question, Na Taebeom just scowled fiercely instead of answering. It seems the problem is that face pretending to be so prim. An impulse arose to throw him onto any empty bed, strip him naked, and slather his whole body with semen. Yet at the same time, the fact that he craved such a messy and gluttonous indulgence was unsettling.

“…Just, thinking about something else.”

“Hm?”

“Ah, I don’t know. Don’t ask. It has nothing to do with you mutt.”

He waved his hand in annoyance and then, with a look of sudden realization, rummaged through his pocket.

“Come to think of it, I just remembered.”

What Na Taebeom abruptly shoved in front of Nam Gyeonhwa’s face was the burner phone he had bought from the stray dog last time.

“This. It was on your bedside, so I was wondering what it was and saw there was a text message.”

“A text message?”

“The text just starts with ‘hyung-nim’.”

A text to a number that had been temporarily activated less than a few days ago. Judging by the peculiar title, it must have been Kim Han-gyeol. The moment Nam Gyeonhwa reached for the phone, Na Taebeom pulled it to the side so he couldn’t snatch it and pushed Nam Gyeonhwa firmly against the wall.

“What kind of bastard is he that you have to buy a separate phone to contact him?”

“…He’s just an informant.”

“An informant? Who is that?”

“There’s someone. Among the stray dogs, someone I know from seeing a few times.”

“A stray dog is working as an informant?”

Na Taebeom frowned. An informant from a wandering group that couldn’t even properly claim a nationality or connection—wasn’t that too absurd an expectation for a tribe that was already untrustworthy?

“Just because they’re stray dogs doesn’t mean they’re all weird. And I had some information I wanted to look into personally, so I was just going to ask for a favor. There was no other purpose.”

“……”

Nam Gyeonhwa met his gaze, which was staring intently as if searching for a flaw, with composure. Na Taebeom, who was gripping the phone in his hand so tightly it seemed he would crush it, clicked his tongue and stepped back.

“I’m confiscating the phone.”

“I just told you everything. It’s just to get in touch for information, not for any other purpose.”

“Whether it’s for another purpose or not, you’re not allowed to do anything behind my back. Especially not contacting a bastard who calls you ‘hyung-nim’.”

At the words spat out like a growl, Nam Gyeonhwa looked up, flabbergasted. Na Taebeom, unconcerned by his disgruntled expression, shoved the phone into his inner pocket and then went so far as to zip it up to his neck.