Vol 7 Ch 12

As expected, the flight to Korea was canceled, and even the helicopter that had been waiting to take them to the airport shut off its engine from overheating.

Since Kwon Taeha had a schedule in Korea the next morning, Joo Hawon boarded STA’s private jet with him. Inside the jet’s bar, just as Taeha had said, there were several bottles of “Château Palmer 1961” resting in the wine cabinet. When Taeha asked if it tasted good, Hawon’s only answer was, “Just tastes expensive.”

Taeha’s schedule, unexpectedly, was not in Seoul but in Jeju.

The cruise ship Elizabeth, introduced as part of the celebrity line by the Korean shipping company Killer Whale, had Jeju Port as its first docking point. Built over several years, the cruise could hold fewer than 400 passengers, smaller in scale than the Max, but its rooms and facilities were nearly on par. To maximize customer convenience, the number of staff exceeded half the passengers, essentially aiming for 1:1 service. The Elizabeth was a luxury celebrity cruise.

The largest shareholder of Killer Whale had been Hyun Jungyeol, who had transferred all of his shares only a few months ago to none other than Kwon Jaehee, a German and STA’s CEO. For about ten years, Hyun Jungyeol had been Killer Whale’s major shareholder. He was also Hyun Jungwon’s father and Kwon Jaehee’s biological grandfather.

Killer Whale made profits by leasing medium- and large-sized ships or operating special cargo vessels and oil tankers. It had been listed on the Frankfurt stock exchange a little over three years ago. Its largest shareholder was Kwon Jaehee, but the actual owner was Kwon Taeha.

Although it looked as though Jaehee had stepped back from the front lines, he had been working beneath the surface in the Korean market, and behind him was Taeha. If not for the incidents involving Joo Hawon, the Ceo of STA would have been Taeha, while Jaehee would have been CEO of Killer Whale. In truth, Killer Whale was the shipping company they had carefully nurtured to take down Tex.

At present, Killer Whale’s CEO seat was vacant. A board of executives made decisions through voting, but the final approval always went through Kwon Jaehee, and in reality, through Taeha.

The Elizabeth, with a route that did not overlap with the Max, was preparing for its inaugural voyage. The hotel tied to it was Jeju’s super-luxury “Redford.” Killer Whale had suggested a partnership, but Redford’s CEO had only replied that he needed time to think. Because of that, Taeha judged the man to be a rather sly bastard.

He must have known that Tex was about to set up a casino and hotel in Jeju. Even though it was an offer that could bring him immense profit, the man had first chosen to lift his chin. Yes, that was how business was done. He must have thought Killer Whale had something to lose, which was why it had extended its hand first.

Exactly two days later, a letter arrived from Redford’s CEO.

[Ich bitte Ihnen fuer eine gutes Geschaeft Herr Big Brother]
[Looking forward to a good deal. Mr. Big Brother.]

Reading the neat German script, Taeha laughed.

“So he really is a sly bastard.”

Big Brother was another name by which people referred to Taeha. The man had even found out who the true owner of Killer Whale was. He had investigated for two days, but since Taeha had no intention of hiding it, it didn’t matter.

Meeting in Jeju for the contract, Redford’s CEO turned out to be rather cunning as well. He had even figured out that Killer Whale was aiming to keep Tex in check. Taeha had hoped he would be someone he could easily wield, but it was a shame that wouldn’t be the case. Still, he admitted, that kind of opponent was more interesting than one weak and dull.

“Hawon.”

Lost in a German film, Joo Hawon didn’t hear Taeha calling.

It was Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door, without subtitles. Of all things to watch, why choose a story about terminal illness instead of something cheerful and fun? Deeply immersed, Hawon wrinkled his nose. If it was sad, he could just shed a few tears and be done, but he stubbornly tried to hold them back.

Taeha, for once, had the time and thought he might as well let Hawon finish the film. He sometimes watched his profile, sometimes watched the movie himself. Before long, Bob Dylan’s “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door” began to play.

Rudy sat beside Martin, who had collapsed facing the sea. Watching them knock on heaven’s door, Hawon kept his eyes fixed on the screen until the end credits rolled. Only when the screen shut off by itself did he finally turn his head. His eyes met Taeha’s, who had been quietly watching him.

“CEO.”

“Mm?”

“I’ve never seen it before.”

Taeha looked at him, silently asking, Seen what?

“They say heaven only has one landscape. The sea.”

“Did it really move you that much?”

The car Martin and Rudy stole to reach the sea belonged to a mob boss. The boss had said, When the sun sets and the fireball melts into the sea, it’s truly a spectacle. The only light left is the flame in your heart, like a candle.

Though he had lived closer to the sea than anyone, Hawon had never thought the sunset-stained ocean was beautiful. To him, it was a detestable landscape, part of a city he had always wanted to shake off and leave behind. But now, he wondered how it might look.

“I want to go to the sea.”

Muttering the words, Hawon saw Taeha frown.

“Don’t say ominous things.”

At his reaction, Hawon faintly smiled.

“It’s not like I’ve been diagnosed as terminal.”

“What good memory do you even have of the sea, to want to go there?”

“Once… my grandfather told me. He said my fortune was one that wouldn’t withstand a storm.”

“What, was your grandfather a fortune teller?”

“Of course not. Just an old man’s usual anxiety. He told me never to go near the sea…”

My father died in the sea, and I nearly died there too.

“But I survived, didn’t I? They say once you’ve overcome something, it’s no longer something to fear. If I’m going to run a seaweed farm one day, I need to get along with the sea.”

“Run the seaweed farm much later.”

“When, exactly?”

“When we’ve quit work and are spending the rest of our lives together. Understood?”

Abruptly, Taeha leaned in, sucked on Hawon’s lips hard, then let go.

Seaweed farming with Taeha… It really didn’t suit him. Yet, Hawon’s chest tingled from the unexpected confession. Taeha was planning a future with him. The man who used to speak of endings and instill unease was now trying to give him certainty. The way he did it was just a little rough.

“CEO, at the very least, everyone imagines love as something sweet. No one imagines it as something this brutal.”

“Am I brutal?”

“Sometimes.”

“And when exactly is that ‘sometimes’?”

Right now was rough, but there was a touch of sweetness. There were other times when he was truly brutal.

“When I’m with another guy?”

“…That hurts. Because it’s exactly right.”

Taeha added that it wasn’t something effort could fix, that Hawon had to handle himself well.

“I said I want to go to the sea.”

He looked into Hawon’s face.

“To see the sunset paint the sea, it should be a clean one, shouldn’t it?”

As if he had decided something, he followed with, “Alright.”

“When will we go?”

“First, I want to spend some leisurely time with you.”

Taeha, enjoying a rare holiday, pulled Hawon into his arms and lay down. By now, he was practically treating him like a body pillow.

***

Knock, knock, knockin’ on heaven’s door.

When he knocked on the gates of heaven, what he saw was not the sea. Memory broke into fragments, and sinking into the dark ocean until the whole world turned to pitch was the heaven Joo Hawon had seen. No, perhaps the gates of heaven had never opened for him. He had never called out to God. God had never sought him. From the beginning, he did not believe there was such a thing as the afterlife. When one died, one became nothing more than a handful of ashes drifting upon the sea. Was that why the sea alone was the theme of heaven?

And yet, just a little, he wanted to knock. If there were such a thing as heaven, he hoped it would resemble the visions of his father and mother he had seen when sinking into deep sleep, not just the end of becoming a handful of ashes wandering the waves.

He had tried not to think about it. The more he recalled, the more painful it became, so he lived as though he had forgotten everything. But nightmares would creep in, as if to spite the stability he had finally begun to find, dragging him back into the past.

His father’s yacht, the corpse, his mother in the psychiatric ward, Kwon Yijae pointing a gun at him, even the foul stench of Macau’s filth-ridden alleyways—those all tangled together in a dream. His chest tightened. At some point, the space beside him on the bed had become empty.

It was all darkness. He could have switched on the lamp with just a stretch of his arm, yet his body would not move. Unlike him, who still felt uneasy without light, Kwon Taeha could sleep easily in the dark. Breath began to choke him, just like the day he helplessly sank into the sea.

Ceo … He tried to call him, but the breaths he gasped out scattered uselessly in the air. What was it he had told him to do at times like this? Right, the phone. He had said just press one button. Yet it felt as if someone were pressing down on his chest, pinning him. Cold sweat drenched his body, and his consciousness grew dim once more. If he gave in and fell asleep like this, it might be easier, but it also felt like he would never wake again. Just as he reached out, refusing to give up, faint light slipped in. Then suddenly, light engulfed him so fiercely he thought he might go blind.

***

Kwon Taeha quietly opened the bedroom door. It was still early morning, and he had not thought Joo Hawon would be awake while he stepped out to the living room to receive a work report. But the sound of Joo Hawon’s breathing from inside the bedroom was strange. Wheezing. Alarmed, Taeha flung the door open and switched on the lights.

Lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, Joo Hawon’s lips had turned blue, his body quivering in small spasms.

Taeha yanked open the dresser drawer. He pulled out the Ventolin inhaler and lifted Hawon into his arms, opening his airway. Following exactly as the doctor had instructed him countless times, he pressed the inhaler into Hawon’s throat. The doctor had warned that shock symptoms might occasionally occur, but since it had been fine for a while, Taeha had let down his guard. Now, as he pulled the inhaler away, he placed a hand lightly over Hawon’s chest. His breathing, once ragged and uneven, was gradually returning to a slower rhythm.

Sweat soaked Taeha’s hand holding the inhaler. The medication worked quickly but lost its effect with frequent use, so the doctor had cautioned against relying on it. At that moment, Taeha couldn’t care less. The face in his arms was sickeningly pale, like a corpse. If no medicine existed, he would have to invent one just to make him well.

“…Sor…ry.”

With eyes deep beyond measure, Hawon strained to look up at him and whispered. Taeha’s expression twisted into a harsh grimace.

“What the hell do you have to be sorry for.”

It was just words that slipped out. It was because his face looked too pained. Hawon blinked slowly.

Taeha laid the head resting on his thigh back onto the pillow.

“The doctor said sometimes shock symptoms might happen. Don’t worry too much.”

“I’m fine.”

It almost seemed like Taeha was more worried than he was, so Hawon shook his head.

“It was just today… because of a dream.”

“What kind of dream.”

“…I don’t remember.”

Hawon pulled the blanket up. Taeha slid his hand beneath it, stroking down his back.

“It feels… good.”

Murmuring as he closed his eyes slowly.

“When you rub my back like that.”

Taeha pressed his lips to Hawon’s hair as if soothing a child.

“I’ll keep doing it, so go back to sleep.”

Of course he knew. He knew too well why Hawon had apologized. It was because he feared his own illness might make Taeha grow weary of him. That if such things repeated, he might become a burden and be cast aside. That unconscious fear lay beneath his stubborn independence, his refusal to lean on anyone.

I know, but you are the only one who does not.

Soon his breathing settled. Taeha kept patting his back, never stopping.

If I had been just a little more perfect, this would never have happened. If I had been more tolerant, I would never have cornered you. Like Baek Hyunseok, I blamed you. For running from me, for breaking the contract.

I opposed the greed of the generation above, only to be more greedy than they. If God exists, I hope Kwon Yijae never finds peace.

But I will not repent. I am the kind of bastard who can only be satisfied when I have you completely, who will never let go no matter what. So don’t apologize. If something like this happens again, then blame me. Glare at me with those beautiful eyes, hurl venom at me.

I’ve long built up immunity to poison, and such things are nothing to me. But, Joo Hawon, your apology wounds me deeply. To that, I have no immunity. A conscience I never had grows inside me, but only for you, and it makes my chest ache. The truths I have not told, the ones you must never know, I will bury them forever in the deep sea.

Taeha kissed Hawon’s lips as he slept. In his sleep, Hawon’s arms came around him as if in answer. It felt as though even after his heart had been fully laid bare, Hawon still accepted him.

“When you wake, let’s go see the sea.”

He whispered at his ear.

For now, Taeha wanted to forget about work, forget about everything, and just stay tangled up like this with him. Baek Hyunseok’s words came back to him.

“If I had stayed any longer, I think I would have abandoned everything—taking over the family business, graduate school, all of it—just to live with Hawon. I’m sure you know, ceo . Men like us can’t ever live that way.”

Taeha consciously stopped himself from tightening his arms around Hawon.

“That’s the biggest load of bullshit.”

He muttered coldly. And in that moment, he thought he should move his plans a little faster. The Elizabeth, that would do just fine. The sea of Jeju was as blue as Hawon wished to see. The scent of Hawon’s skin was intoxicating. Suddenly, he remembered the foolish talk about pheromones outside the old villa and almost laughed at himself. He hadn’t realized then that it had only ever been him who felt it.

With Hawon’s even breathing spreading gently, Taeha also began to relax. In the end, Joo Hawon was the one who held not only his heart but his very breath.