IH Ch 29

Chapter 29

 

Apparently displeased by the remark, his cheek puffed out even more. He did bring his chopsticks to the peas hidden beneath the rice, but his movements lacked the usual enthusiasm he showed when eating something he liked. After repeatedly poking at them for a while, he finally picked one up and put it in his mouth with obvious reluctance—his expression soured the moment he tasted it.

“……”

An incredibly honest face.

Maybe, instead of overthinking it, it would be better to just ask directly. Why did I come looking for you every night? What was I like back then, and what nonsense did I spew? And why didn’t you push me away?

All of those thoughts placed the blame on him. It’s not like anyone could push away an S-rank who suddenly showed up. Right—he wouldn’t have been able to refuse. Even if I wasn’t fully conscious, I was still me. If he had rejected me, I might have gotten so pissed I’d done something awful. Maybe it had happened more than once. But if he wasn’t bringing it up…

Then, again, the chopsticks picking out the peas came into view. But this time, instead of saying anything, he just watched. Once he had picked out all the peas from the white rice, Dohwa took a big bite. Then he added a piece of fried food and some pickled radish. He was stuffing it in like he didn’t know how to eat in smaller bites. His cheeks looked ready to burst. Watching him chew diligently exactly ten times per bite, just as he’d once been scolded to do, Jae-i casually asked,

“Were you that hungry?”

The small shoulders flinched, and then he slowly raised his head.

It seemed like he was staring straight at Jae-i, but after swallowing his food, he answered.

“…My stomach just made a noise, that’s all.”

“……”

“I wasn’t that hungry, really.”

He muttered that it had just sounded loud, not that he was truly hungry. Glancing up, he took another bite of rice. Holding the chopsticks tightly in his fist, he carefully scooped up every grain, not leaving a single one behind. The fried food, the pickled radish, and all the other side dishes too—he ate them all with great enjoyment.

Maybe it really was delicious. He had said he used to subsist on pills. In that case, how long had he lived like that, confined in that place? If he had been truly useless, they wouldn’t have gone to such lengths.

“……”

Maybe it was because of how Ahn Yuna had barged in and made a fuss. Her repeated remarks about how pretty he was resurfaced.

Pretty, my ass. He’s still a guy with the same equipment as me.

Perhaps uncomfortable with being stared at so intently, Dohwa focused solely on eating, occasionally glancing sideways. Then he reached up to his hair. Was he about to try and hide his face with it again like before? Jae-i spoke firmly.

“Hands off your hair and just eat.”

“……”

He kept fidgeting with his hair for a while before slowly lowering his hand. Then, hanging his head low, he began eating with a spoon instead. When some rice stuck to his lips, he picked it off with his finger and popped it in his mouth. The plump lips that bit down on his finger, the puffed cheeks, the long fluttering eyelashes that flickered with every blink… and—

As their eyes briefly met again, Jae-i quickly turned his head as if he hadn’t noticed.

Since he was the one who’d caused this, it seemed like he ought to take responsibility. He wanted to pretend he didn’t know, but if he did, Ahn Yuna would definitely nag him to death. Nothing more annoying than a coworker making a fuss. All he had to do was show up, take a photo with the Association President, and leave. It wasn’t that complicated—he told himself that again and again, but it didn’t help with the stress.

The Association President was one thing, but the horde of people swarming in to take pictures already gave him a headache. They’d snap photos however they pleased and spout nonsense. If he so much as furrowed his brow, it’d spark speculative articles, which would then spread negative rumors about him. It was a vicious cycle.

Ugh, I’m so sick of this.

Jae-i slammed a ball flying toward him with all his strength. With a loud noise, it flew across the space and embedded itself into the wall. He had been hitting balls with such force in his frustration that the walls were now full of embedded impacts, leaving almost no empty space. Anyone with trypophobia would have recoiled in horror, but Jae-i didn’t care as he pressed the button for the 134th round. Balls flew at him from all directions, and he returned them swiftly and precisely.

After nearly 200 rounds, the reinforced space—designed to match the physical capabilities of an S-rank—began to crack. The walls and floor creaked as they deteriorated into a mess, and Jae-i frowned.

“Pathetic.”

What was the point of meticulous design if it couldn’t even withstand this? It was a thoroughly unrepentant thing to say for an S-rank, but Jae-i was genuinely dissatisfied. He still wanted to burn off more energy.

Frowning, he was about to rub his eyebrow with his thumb but stopped. The racket in his hand was in tatters. It had been enhanced up to A+ grade, and now it looked like one more hit would snap every string. He stared at it blankly, then looked at the surveillance camera hovering nearby.

“……”

Every morning, when he woke up, Dohwa was beside him. He had no memory of how that had come to be.

He knew something was wrong with him, but he didn’t want to talk about it with anyone. Even if someone did listen, just the act of sharing it felt repulsive. The way people looked at him. The attention. The supposed concern that was really just fear—afraid of how he might explode at any moment.

With his jaw clenched tight, Jae-i threw the racket onto the floor.

Sure enough, the bed was better than the floor.

He wasn’t even that sleepy, but just lying there made his whole body relax, and his eyes began to close on their own. Drifting in and out of shallow sleep, Dohwa opened his eyes at a soft thud. Then, hearing the sound again beyond the closed door, he sat up.

Again? That thought crossed his mind, but his steps toward the door were hurried.

Standing in front of the closed door, Dohwa waited. Then came another light knock, as if to say, “Why haven’t you opened the door yet?” Only then did Dohwa reach for the handle and open it.

“……”

Hwang Jae-i, wearing only a pair of pants, was wet. He had clearly showered but hadn’t fully dried off. His damp blond hair framed eyes that looked weighed down by gloom. Dohwa didn’t shy away from the suffocating sadness and asked directly,

“What’s wrong?”

“……”

“You should tell me why you’re like this.”

Knowing the reason wouldn’t necessarily help, but he was curious. Why someone like Hwang Jae-i was acting this way.

“…Hungry.”

“……”

“I’m hungry.”

Caught off guard by the unexpected response, Dohwa stared blankly for a moment before leaning out and repeating,

“Hungry?”

This time, Jae-i simply nodded. Then his eyes drooped so sorrowfully that it was hard to believe he wasn’t faking it.

What should I do? This wasn’t his house in the first place. He couldn’t just rummage around and fix something up however he liked. That’s when Jae-i stepped inside and, bowing his head, wrapped his arms around Dohwa. Pressing his cheek to Dohwa’s head, he mumbled, hungry.

Suddenly flustered, Dohwa felt like he had to do something. He nodded.

“Okay.”

At the same time, he placed a hand on the broad back and patted it gently.

“Let’s eat.”

The kitchen had two large refrigerators. One seemed to be for regular meals, the other for desserts. Since it was Jae-i’s house anyway, taking something from them shouldn’t be a problem.

Dohwa recalled how Jae-i had prepared food for him earlier that day. He figured he could just do the same. Muttering “Let’s go,” Dohwa made his way forward. Jae-i, still pressing his cheek against Dohwa’s head, slowly lifted his face.

“You’ll feed me?”

“Yeah. I’ll take something out of the fridge.”

It’s yours anyway.

Dohwa looked him straight in the eyes and said,

“Let’s eat.”

Then he pried off the hand holding his arm, took it firmly in his own, and stepped out. Jae-i was blocking the center of the doorway, so getting past him wasn’t easy, but Dohwa managed. Once he was out in the hallway, he urged Jae-i to follow.

But the large man didn’t budge. Wondering why, Dohwa turned—and froze. Jae-i was leaning his massive body toward him. His eyes were fixed intently on Dohwa’s face.

Even in all the time they’d spent together, he’d never looked at him like that. Feeling uncomfortable, Dohwa turned his head away and tugged Jae-i’s hand again. Only then did the big man start to move.

Once in the kitchen, Dohwa left Jae-i and went to the refrigerator.

“……”

It should be fine to touch it.

After a brief hesitation, he opened it and looked inside. He picked out one of the neatly stacked square containers and peeked in—it had meat. In another container was colorful rice. He remembered enjoying something similar before. Those two should be good. That’s when he heard a strange noise. Turning around, he flinched.

Jae-i had come up behind him. If he were just standing there, it’d be one thing—but he was bowing his head, staring at Dohwa. Why is he like this? Uncomfortable with having his face watched, Dohwa reached to close the fridge—then froze.

Behind Jae-i, a small, round object slowly floated into view.