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Hyung and Morae walked into the coffee shop, holding hands tightly. It was a rare sight. Hyung’s face was rigid and he was wary of his surroundings, but Morae, who spotted me right away and approached, waving, was her usual self.
“Nice, you got a good spot, huh? Seo Yeehyeon.”
Morae grinned as she plopped down on the sofa across from me, where I sat by the window with a large grand piano at my back. I could only find it amazing that she could joke about the good fortune of getting a window seat and laugh in a situation like this.
This was the meeting place she had chosen herself. The lobby coffee shop of a five-star hotel located on Namsan.
The tall, floor-to-ceiling windows, which seemed to span three stories, looked out over the hazy, gray cityscape of Seoul, still being spattered with rain. The city beyond the Han River was blurred and smudged by the rain and the mist it created, but it seemed like on a clear day, the view would be sharp and stretch quite far.
“Your boss, he doesn’t run a private investigation agency as a side hustle or something, does he? Or maybe he has some experience being on the run in the past.”
As soon as the coffee shop employee who had taken our order left, Morae leaned her arms on the table, bringing her upper body forward, and asked playfully. Her tone, just like always, made me wonder if I had misunderstood the reason for our meeting.
He had called around noon, suggesting that Hyung and Morae should move out of their house immediately and that he had arranged a temporary residence for them. He had even recommended that they use that place, which had tight security, as the meeting spot for their appointment with Uncle. He added that he had everything prepared for them to leave Seoul tomorrow—no, even tonight—if they were mentally ready.
I, who had been lost in a deep, death-like sleep, couldn’t keep up with his pace with my sluggish mind. I had expected his work wouldn’t be slow or sloppy, but I couldn’t help but be surprised by his drive, which was faster and more meticulous than I had thought.
Right after finishing the call with him, I got out of bed and called Morae. I told her everything, from the reason I had disappeared like that last night to the story about the contract deposit and the plan he had prepared. It was a long call, lasting a full hour.
After hearing the whole story and filling in the gaps in my explanation with a few questions, Morae had said that for now, she couldn’t trust him.
I agreed with her to some extent when she said it wasn’t because he was a suspicious person, but because she couldn’t just blindly trust anyone at the moment. To me, he was a trustworthy person, but to her, he was just a man she had never even seen. And she was also a very cautious person.
Putting all of his suggestions on hold for the time being, Morae and Hyung quickly moved their things to the home of the owner of ‘What Happened in Bali,’ and set this place as our meeting spot. Their plan was to decide on the rest after meeting Uncle.
“I… don’t think so, probably.”
I shook my head, imagining him in an outfit like the director of the private investigation agency we had once met with Hyung and Morae, dealing with a client asking him to catch evidence of their spouse’s affair on the fourth floor of a shabby building with no elevator.
“His escape plan was so meticulous, I thought maybe he got help from a professional.”
Morae, who had been saying that while leaning obliquely against the table and drinking water, suddenly put her glass down and leaned further toward me. Her eyes widened slightly.
“But you, what’s wrong with your lips?”
I flinched and pulled back without realizing it.
“Uh, last night… I ate ramen before bed… Are they that swollen?”
I asked back, reflexively fiddling with my lower lip as if to hide it. I was surprised at how calmly I managed to deflect it. It felt strange to even ask back if they were that swollen. For me, it was a rather bold response, but a cold sweat was drenching my back.
“Your lower lip looks a little funny. I thought you got bitten by something. You never swell up, what’s gotten into you.”
Morae leaned back as if losing interest, tilting her water glass to pop an ice cube into her mouth.
The moment Morae’s back touched the sofa, Hyung suddenly shot up from his seat, and my consciousness, which had been focused on my lips, quickly scattered. Morae and I also turned our heads to where Hyung’s gaze was directed.
Crunch. The sound of Morae chewing and swallowing the ice in her mouth was unusually vivid. Her eyes had cooled calmly, armoring themselves against her usual relaxed leisureliness.
A thin, khaki-colored summer jacket with a collar, hiking pants and sneakers, and a worn-out baseball cap with a faded white line along the edge of the brim. Uncle, appearing in the coffee shop of a luxury hotel, looked like a suspicious person to anyone.
It occurred to me how easily anyone could go from being a good citizen to a suspicious person. At the village’s fisheries cooperative market, Uncle was an ordinary, common fisherman who blended into his surroundings as if camouflaged, but here, he had become a suspicious figure receiving the doubtful glances of the hotel staff and the curious, fleeting looks from some of the guests.
A middle-aged man who looked to be about Uncle’s age, but was much taller and stylishly dressed, glanced at Uncle as he walked quickly through the hall, having a serious conversation with a foreign man in a suit. For some reason, I found it hard to watch and turned my head away.
“I’m sorry for asking you to come to a place like this. It must be uncomfortable for you, right?”
“It’s fine.”
Morae, who had stood up and waited for Uncle to approach, politely guided him to the seat next to me.
“It’s not you I don’t trust, sir… it’s my father. I was worried he might be planning to use you as bait to take us away, so I suggested we meet in a place like this. He’s capable of that, as you know.”
Uncle, nodding as if in understanding, took my glass of water and drained it in one go, leaving only the ice.
Hyung and Morae’s iced coffees were served, and when the employee asked if he would like to order, Uncle answered shortly, “Coffee.” The side of Uncle’s face was stiff with tension as he continuously wrung his rough, thick hands on his thighs.
The current situation, which I had already briefly explained to the two over the phone, was once again laid out by Morae as if for confirmation. To Morae’s calm question of whether this was indeed the situation, Uncle nodded, and with a heavy sigh, Morae added a sincere apology.
Uncle, showing no reaction to the apology, finally opened his mouth after a long while, his face weary.
“What… are you two going to do now.”
“What do you mean?”
Morae grabbed Hyung’s hand tightly as he was about to jump in, choking up.
“We’re going to stay together. Until we ourselves decide that we don’t want to be together anymore.”
Uncle, who had been silently looking back and forth between the two from under the deep brim of his baseball cap, let out a deep groan like that of a wounded animal, one that seemed to contain a great many words, and averted his gaze.
A group of four or five elegant, middle-aged women, perhaps on their way back from a gathering, passed by us, exchanging pleasantries about something in cheerful voices. When the surroundings quieted down again and only Schumann’s Piano Trio No. 3 flowed softly, Uncle opened his mouth, his voice heavier than his earlier groan.
“If I… were to get on my knees and beg here, would you… not come back?”
“……”
Everyone at the table was at a loss for words.
Hyung’s face was the first to contort, turning red and blue as if he had heard a deeply insulting demand. Then, the rims of his eyes began to boil red.
“Are we doing this because we want to see you on your knees, Father? Do you think we’re doing this to torment someone and win? If you get on your knees, do you think I’ll be happy, that this is what I wanted, and excitedly follow you?”
I know what’s upsetting Hyung. And that this anger isn’t directed at Uncle. Morae and Hyung weren’t categorizing the people involved in this situation as perpetrators and victims, and while they judged their own choice to be just, they were also tormented by guilt toward their parents.
If this were on a boat, or at the port, or in the cement-paved yard of Grandfather’s house, Uncle would have mercilessly struck Hyung with his thick palm. But now, even in the face of Hyung’s defiance and raised voice, he only lowered his head deeper, like a sinner.
At that sight, Hyung also clenched his fists and turned his head away. Morae, as if frozen in place, stared down at her coffee melting in the glass beaded with condensation on the table, lost in thought, her face expressionless, showing neither anger nor sadness.
Because he had only said “Coffee,” Uncle’s coffee was served hot. But it wouldn’t have mattered what kind of coffee it was. As if unable to feel the heat or the taste, Uncle lifted the coffee cup, which looked so small compared to his hands and fingers, took a sip of the hot coffee, and said as he set it down.
“I’m an ignorant man, so I don’t know about things like freedom of choice or self-identity that you kids talk about. To be honest, the truth is I think you’re just playing house, not knowing any better, drunk on emotion in the heat of your youth. I know that right now it feels like you’d die if you were apart, that you can’t live without each other… It’s not that I don’t understand how you feel at all.”
While listening to Uncle, I, too, had to wring my hands in my lap. He was making me more anxious than in the past when he would just yell without even trying to listen. Empathy was more effective in persuading people than force or pressure, and the two of them were already suffering from guilt as it was.
Unaware of my quickening breath, Uncle continued.
“It’s just that, having lived this long… I know that even a flame that seems like it will last a lifetime eventually has a time when it dies down. Han, you punk, and you, Morae… for your parents’ sake, at least… do you really have no intention of enduring the immediate pain and giving up?”
I grabbed the forearm of Uncle, who was sitting next to me, as if pleading, almost lunging at him.
“If you separate them… don’t you know what will happen, even after seeing Father?”
It was an uncharacteristic action for me, and a right I, a mere third party, was not given, but seeing the two of them waver before a parent showing weakness… I was overcome with fear and couldn’t just watch the situation unfold.
Uncle’s yellowish eyes, the borders of their irises opaque, turned to look at me. It was as if he was saying, Why wouldn’t I know that? and also as if he was saying, Morae and Hyung are different from your father.
But I knew. Having spent over five years by their side, I knew much better than Uncle did.
I could borrow his expression from last night.
Hyung and Morae weren’t just in a romantic relationship, deeply in love with each other; they were a set that was complete only when they were together. The tragedy that occurred when such people were unnaturally torn apart was my father, and the ruined work of art that tragedy had created was the me of today. I could not let that be repeated with Hyung and Morae.
Morae, who had been staring at a point on the table, opened her mouth, her voice parched and seemingly devoid of emotion.
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