HYDP C23

Chapter 23

It was a photo from a full three years ago, with Sanhong holding the children in his arms and smiling brightly at the camera. In the picture, he wore a rather guileless smile.

“Ugly.”

“…Sometimes, it’s like you have zero self-awareness.”

“What are you talking about?”

With a put-upon huff, Huigang speared a slice of apple with a fork and placed it in his hand. He accepted it meekly and took a bite. The crisp sound cracked the pre-dawn stillness.

“If we end up changing residences, what about the kids’ kindergarten?”

“Why worry? I’m taking them to and from anyway. So what if it’s farther.”

“I just feel bad.”

“If you’re going to say that, pay me instead.”

“Got it. Are living expenses short? Should I put in more?”

“…Ugh, idiot. Forget it.”

He chided him for not being able to take a joke.

“Told you before. Leave the kids to me and worry about your own work.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“By the way, is that guy Cheonguk still sniffing around you?”

“No, he doesn’t come anymore. Guess it was all talk.”

“Dunno. Why do I feel like he’ll come again.”

“Don’t jinx it. I don’t want to get entangled with him.”

“Hey, if you don’t want that, you need to kill him. Can you do that?”

“…If I could.”

Snorting, he clinked his beer can lightly against his.

Thinking of the Bureau made the taste of beer vanish from his mouth. Past or present, the name was still a bitter one.

“How’s the insomnia.”

“Same as ever.”

“Medication?”

“The ones I’m on are contraindicated, can’t be taken together. So I’m not taking them.”

“So you’re relying only on sleeping pills? Do you really want to die early?”

He didn’t answer. As usual, an unfavorable question met silence.

Just then, a splitting headache hit—he grimaced and clutched his head. Like it was routine, Huigang took a packet of medicine from the cupboard.

“Skipped your meds again, didn’t you?”

“…Urrgh…”

“Seriously, why don’t you ever listen…”

He clasped his head with both hands and bent forward. Pain slammed into him so hard he couldn’t even reply. It was unbearable without grinding his teeth.

Worried he might bite too hard and hurt himself, he hurried over, kneeling to meet his eyes.

“Yeon Sanhong. Look at me.”

“……”

“Relax your jaw.”

He rubbed gently below his ear to soothe him. Between his fingertips he felt the tension in the clamped jaw slowly release.

“Good. Now take this.”

“…Mm.”

“This happens because you keep missing doses. Told you before—set the alarm and take them.”

“…Yeah.”

“You’re going to get in real trouble like this.”

All he could do was swallow what he was given and answer the questions he was asked.

“Swallow.”

He placed the pill right into his hand and into his mouth. The moment it touched his tongue, he gulped it down with water. As if moisture were draining from his body, he bowed his head and waited for the dizziness to pass. Patting his shoulder, he stretched his legs and let out a long sigh.

“What if they see you like this. Handing them the perfect weak point, isn’t it?”

“……”

As the droning headache faded, his blurred vision gradually settled. Catching his breath, he finally answered.

“…They saw.”

“……”

“They already did.”

His expression froze for a beat. Seeing it, he gave a wry smile. Lacking even the energy to be scolded, he slipped a faint smile and quickly left the room, heading for the kids’ room.

Left alone, he drained the last of his beer and crushed the can in his fist.

Shouldn’t have been seen…

He sighed heavily and thought: this might really tie them to Cheonguk in the worst way.

He carefully lay his body down between the two sleeping children. A soft, catlike susurrus—children’s quiet breathing—filled the air. He smiled soundlessly, looking at the ceiling.

Before sleep, he remembered what they had said.

“Don’t go anywhere!”

“Don’t go!”

The pronunciation was still clumsy, but the intent was crystal clear. Even with half-closed eyes, they wanted so badly to deliver those words.

Reassuring them that it was okay, he decided to sleep at home that night. When he opened his arms, they nuzzled in naturally.

He didn’t even notice his arms going numb—bathed in the warm baby-scent rising from their bodies, he let a soft laugh slip. Holding them felt like hugging warm, pillowy marshmallows.

Bit by bit, a heavy sleep weighed down his lids. Though he had suffered nights of insomnia, tonight his mind was at ease. Drawing in all the spines he’d bristled, he fell into the deepest sleep in the softest place in the world.

That night, for once in a while, he dreamed.

He built a sweet, fluffy marshmallow house with the children. Once finished, they went inside; as they rested peacefully in the sugary scent, there came a knock—tok tok—at the door.

Holding the children close, he opened the door carefully—there on the threshold, a great imugi prodded the door with its nose, peering steadily into the house.

The next day,

Having slept deeply for once without sleeping pills, he woke late. It was time to head back to Horangyong-dong. Pressing a gentle kiss to each forehead, he slipped to the bathroom.

In the mirror, he still looked hollowed-out, but better than when he was in Horangyong-dong. Washing and brushing as if in a trance, the fog in his head cleared. The stiffness in his body was much better than the day before; moving felt easier.

When he opened the bathroom door, the kids—already up and ready—ran at him. Catching their heads in his ribs, tears sprang to his eyes.

“Up early? You don’t need more sleep?”

“Yeah!”

“Don’ need!”

Holding his darlings he headed for the table. Surprised by their heft, he muttered:

“Yesterday I thought it was just me—but Cheong and Hong really have grown.”

“Hey, you know what the kids do first thing in the morning?”

“What?”

“Measure their height and weight.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. They want to grow fast so they can be with Dad a long, long time.”

He hugged them tight, moved. He showered their soft cheeks with kisses, and their giggles rang through the house.

“Um… you know… Daddy is the prettiest.”

He remembered yesterday’s kindergarten story. “Really?” he said, and pinched a cheek lightly.

“Daddy’s the prettiest?”

“Mm. As big as the universe.”

The biggest praise only their age could give. Watching him smile without stop, Huigang suddenly asked:

“Yeon Cheong, Yeon Hong—what about Uncle?”

“……”

“……”

Their silence hedged, as if choosing words. He couldn’t hold back a laugh. Children were wonderfully honest.

“Hey, you two—that harsh? Is Uncle’s face that bad?”

Seeking a straight answer, he waited, and at last they spoke:

“Uncle is… kind of scary…”

“Yeah! Face looks… scary…!”

To their eyes, his face could look a bit scary. He’d even worn long bangs and glasses, but… Cheong and Hong had already seen the real thing—such disguises wouldn’t work.

“You adorable things—can’t tell a lie, can you.”

“Lying is bad.”

“Right!”

“Right, right—grow up kind and good, okay.”

“I’m going to be a police officer!”

“Me too.”

“Whew, if you learned what me and Dad used to do, you’d probably faint.”

A former contract killer and future police hopeful under one roof—just thinking it was pretty ironic. Spoon-feeding the cereal he’d poured, he chuckled to himself.

Smiles he couldn’t make in Horangyong-dong spilled freely here. After a pleasant breakfast, he began to get ready to leave.

Peeking into the side dishes packed by Huigang, he thanked him; Cheong and Hong approached carefully.

“Daddy…”

“Mm.”

“……”

“……”

Good children only watched his face. Seeing them, another laugh bubbled up. He could feel their effort to talk with him even a little longer, fighting sleepiness.

And their little fern-hands waving goodbye were impossibly cute.

“Daddy! Earn lots of money! Okay!”

“Daddy, when you come… jellies…”

“Mm~ I’ll be back. And Daddy will come every week. Promise. Okay?”

“Yeah!”

“Promise!”

“Go safe. Don’t worry about the kids.”

“Mm. I’m counting on you. Sorry.”

“You sling me a few million in living expenses—of course I’ll do my best.”

Mixing in a joke, he told him not to worry, soothing him yet again.

He opened the front door and stepped out. But it felt like his insides were burning; his feet wouldn’t move. The more he thought about leaving such small children behind, the more it tore his chest. His heart pitched and complicated thoughts churned through his head.