Chapter 6
Saem’s room, furnished with nothing but a bed and a desk bought when she started elementary school, was spacious enough for one person.
Rainwater streaming down the chair she sat on dripped, drop by drop, beside her neatly placed feet. She had arrived quite some time ago, yet she still hadn’t changed her clothes.
Staring blankly, trying to count the days, Saem had to bite her lip. It was absurd that this mess had happened just two days after he first appeared on Mangul Island.
But the most devastating thing of all was Cha Taemok’s single remark.
“Same as always, Saem. You’re the only one who can see the top of my head.”
It was even more horrifying because she knew it was the truth. The time she had spent with him in Seoul flashed by, one memory after another, as if to serve as proof.
Cherry blossoms from campus settling over their tightly clasped hands.
The night they first shared.
The warmth of his body when he suddenly turned back at the departure point and hugged her tight.
His lips, which would curl up when facing her, even as he usually wore an expression of utter boredom, craning his neck.
That mischievous habit of his, idly poking her cheek as she focused on the lecture.
Something else surfaced too.
“How dare… How dare you…!”
Her eyelids, suddenly filled with tension, squeezed shut. Because the vivid condemnation and contempt in his eyes from that time pierced her whole body. It was a memory she had merely managed to live forgetting; it could never be erased in the first place.
The deep scar from that day still stung.
It wasn’t because she had been slapped for the crime of betrayal. It was because he, unfortunately, had been a good adult. The only one who had treated her family without prejudice. Or so she had mistakenly believed.
When she thought about it, it was nothing much. A kind face and gentle words could easily be faked.
Come to think of it, she had been naive. She supposed she had also harbored a vague belief that he would be different from the people on this island, who rushed to close the distance under the guise of affection, only to scratch her viciously.
Knock knockā
Startled by the sudden sound of knocking, she looked towards the door.
“Saem.”
Through the gap in the opened door, a middle-aged man with a gentle, amiable face peeked in. He was her father, marked by a white scar above his lip from multiple surgeries to repair a cleft lip, but otherwise unblemished.
Saem quickly composed her expression.
“Dad.”
Her father limped over and handed her a cup of green tea, steam rising from it. Saem took the mug with a “thanks” and clutched it in both hands. She had been feeling chilly anyway.
“Why did you come back soaked through? You must have forgotten an umbrella.”
Her father’s face was shadowed with uncharacteristic self-reproach. She knew he lived with a constant, unconditional sense of guilt towards her.
Apparently, in that era, a cleft lip was considered a terrible disfigurement. Even his own parents were ashamed of him. Because of that, even when neighborhood kids bullied him and his leg was badly injured, he couldn’t tell anyone.
That injury festered, leaving him permanently lame. That he now lived confined to the top floor wasn’t his fault.
Saem shook her head, taking a big gulp of the green tea.
“I had an umbrella. The wind and rain were so strong it flew away.”
“Go wash up right away. You’ll catch a cold. You need to change your clothes too.”
“Just let me sort this out first.”
Setting down the mug, Saem opened her backpack. The thoroughly soaked exam prep books had turned into a mushy mess, but they were from the previous year, so it didn’t matter much. As she spread them out one by one, her father’s gaze kept following her.
Sensing he had something to say, she turned around, and her father finally spoke.
“You’re… going to be staying downstairs for a while, right? That’s what your aunt said.”
“Yeah, no particular reason. It’s just that seeing the lights on in the next house makes me uncomfortable.”
Her father didn’t seem convinced. It seemed he still had something weighing on his heart.
Sure enough, her father’s head drooped.
“…It’s Dad’s fault. Dad is sorry.”
“What are you talking about, all of a sudden?”
“You going downstairs… it’s all because of me.”
Saem slowly lowered her gaze, looking at his knees. The knees he had thrown himself onto the floor for her sake, countless times.
She didn’t want to wear them out any further.
That feeling made her define the kiss she had just committed as aĀ negation. Even the act of reminiscing about that brief moment with him might be a negation. A sudden surge of guilt pressed against a corner of her chest.
Swallowing bitter saliva, Saem slowly reached out and took his rough hand.
“How is that your fault, Dad?”
“Saem…”
“I wish you would finally forget about that incident.”
“…”
“And I wish you wouldn’t blame yourself for it either.”
It was the first time she had brought that incident to the tip of her tongue. Maybe that’s why her father looked quite taken aback.
Giving a small smile, Saem intertwined her fingers more deeply with his.
“I just think about it sometimes. About how, once I get settled in Seoul, I’d like you to come visit me.”
Because she didn’t want to see Mangul Island, conquered by Hoemok Group. She wasn’t sure why. Strangely, she didn’t want to see the destruction of this island, which was now filled only with her hatred.
“First, I need to pass my exams, right?”
At his daughter’s subtle display of affection, Han Jinseok drew a warm smile. He was her father, after all, the one who knew better than anyone that the spikes on her back were actually soft.
“Take it slow. Take it easy. You came here to rest, so only study a little.”
She liked the touch of his fingers gently peeling away each strand of hair matted to her forehead, so she closed her eyes quietly.
“Okay.”
Just then, the doorknob turned with a click, and her aunt’s cynical voice rang out.
“You two don’t have to act all nice, everyone already knows how close you are! I made some scallion pancakes, so come out and eat!”
Saem’s eyes widened in surprise, and their gazes met. Father and daughter burst into laughter at the same time. Han Jinsuk, who had been watching, gasped, “Oh my?” She clicked her tongue playfully and flung the door wide open.
“Come on out, you two! I’m going next door to get dinner ready.”
***
Han Jinsuk, who had been washing ingredients in the spacious sink, went out to the living room at the sound of someone approaching.
A tall figure was crossing the entrance. Just as she was about to speak, she noticed he was drenched from the rain and her jaw dropped.
“The rain…”
Her voice trailed off as she suddenly thought of her niece, who had been in the exact same state. Cha Taemok bowed his head slightly.
“You’re here.”
“…I was thinking of making curry for dinner.”
“Yes, I’ll wash up and come down.”
As he passed by Han Jinsuk, the perfunctory smile that had hung on his face vanished.
Dragging his slippers into the bedroom, Cha Taemok tossed his wet jacket aside and sat on the sofa. Leaning his head back, he swept his hair aside, then exhaled a low breath towards the ceiling.
His lower body, which had been stiff and straining all day, had been tormenting him since earlier. Swallowing a curse, he finally undid his buckle in irritation. Veins stood out prominently on his arm.
“Ah, fuck.”
His pronounced Adam’s apple bobbed up and down once. As if his own will meant nothing, Cha Taemok’s eyes only grew colder.
His fully erect state was fucking ridiculous, not even funny. He had walked all over the neighborhood, getting pelted by rain, so it should have calmed down, but the heat just wouldn’t subside.
A crooked, sardonic smile twisted his lips.
Righting his head, Cha Taemok suppressed a languid breath,Ā hoo.
He chewed over the name Han Saem, the sexual desire condensed into those three syllables, then slowly began to move his hand.
He pictured her smile and applied pressure. He recalled her repulsed expression and stroked upwards, warming himself. As if mocking that look of utter horror she’d given him, he deliberately made a wet, squelching sound.
Only a depraved lust gleamed within his half-closed eyes. He felt that if he could just confront the harsh depths of that desire, it might quench his thirst.
Just as a sense of self-mockery seeped in at the thought of it being revenge against her small back as she walked away, dismissing the kiss as a mistake, he suddenly lost his strength.
‘See you next summer.’
Because a single afterimage had abruptly come to mind.
The young girl in a white school uniform, waving her hand. The dimples she would show only on the day he was leaving the island, with a slightly aloof expression. They made him stop this futile act.
The man already knew.
That what Han Saem had held as collateral wasn’t just his groin.
Choking out a laugh-like sigh, Cha Taemok couldn’t smooth his furrowed brow for a long while
