Chapter 16: The day before planting (10)
Part 19
No matter how much I mulled it over, the appointed time was creeping closer.
Was I anxious? Nervous? What’s the difference between anxiety and nervousness anyway? Did I even need to be nervous? Or was it something else entirely? Amid these vague thoughts, the analog clock on the wall ticked slowly, its hands nearing noon.
“Haa…”
“…What do I even say first?”
Before, I wouldn’t have needed to overthink this. A simple “Yo, you’re here?” would’ve sufficed. We’d exchange casual greetings, head inside, munch on snacks, and crack open some beers—that was enough. But now, the overly friendly attitude of the shop clerks and the subtle glances on the street pricked at my chest like the ticking of the clock. Deeper and deeper as the time approached…
“…What am I even thinking about?”
I chugged the lukewarm milk, more than I’d expected, nearly choking but managing to swallow it all.
“Think positive. Positive…”
Right. It’s been forever since I last saw my friends. No need to be gloomy or anxious. Things wouldn’t be exactly the same as before, but did I have to act awkward too?
“Joo-young’s probably showing up first, huh?”
That good-natured guy rarely broke promises unless something major came up. Showing up five to ten minutes early was his default, so expecting him to be the first to ring the doorbell was a given in our group. “Is there a spot at the café?” “Joo-young’s probably got one reserved.” That kind of vibe.
“Juice or soda… he likes soda better, right?”
Unless Seok-yoon or Sung-yoon, the Yoon duo, pulled some random stunt like “I’m bored” and loitered at a PC bang hours early, Joo-young would likely be first. Young-jin never ran late but wasn’t the type to show up early either, so he’d probably arrive right on time.
“Hope the Yoon duo doesn’t show up ridiculously late again.”
Those guys had a record of arriving nearly two hours late once. I hoped they wouldn’t mess up lunch, at least. Imagining them saying, “Last time we were an hour early” made me scoff, half-exasperated, half-amused.
“…All this talk, but I do miss seeing them.”
Focusing on the fact of meeting friends, rather than the meeting itself, lifted my spirits. Not calm, but almost… excited. Whining to family, complaining to the doctor, bantering with viewers, and now getting hyped just thinking about seeing my friends’ faces—I felt like a broken human, craving attention.
“Am I… starved for affection?”
Clingy. Dependent. There’s a word for this, isn’t there?
“…Whatever.”
I recalled the doctor’s words again. Appearance doesn’t matter. The changed me is still me. Accepting the situation isn’t weak or cowardly. If change comes, embrace the positive as positive, the negative as negative.
“…What did they say they were bringing?”
Fish cake broth pairs well with almost anything, so I grabbed the packed bag and headed to the kitchen. The spicy and vegetable ones went straight to the fridge, but the broth ones I poured into a pot. They were still lukewarm, but these taste better steaming hot.
“Latecomers don’t get any, tough luck.”
The faint broth aroma curled my lips into a smile. I hadn’t noticed I’d been humming until the broth started simmering.
Part 20
“Sung-yoon won’t actually be late, right?”
“He’s got some sense. No way he’d be late on a day like this. It’s been almost a month, hasn’t it?”
“Little over a month, maybe? He didn’t seem too bad off, though.”
“Counting down the days for a dude in the hospital is kinda creepy in its own way.”
Giggles passed between the two guys. The tall, lanky one glanced at the other, whose boxer’s build and core-trained muscles were hidden under a baggy shirt, as if he had no interest in showing off.
“Anyway, thanks for showing up on time, Seok-yoon. One guy being late is one thing, but both of you? That’s a whole different level of stress.”
“You make it sound like I’m always late. I’m pretty punctual, you know.”
“Your track record’s too colorful to say that.”
Seok-yoon’s gaze flicked to Joo-young, who’d spoken with a slight grin but clear sincerity. Swallowing a complaint about brushing it off, Seok-yoon adjusted the bag in his arms.
“…Just a few unavoidable twists of fate.”
“Let’s hope you stay a reliable guy like today for the rest of the year.”
“That was my New Year’s resolution, good sir.”
“Cut the nonsense.”
Their homes weren’t nearby, but the area was familiar. Among their five friends, Yoonseo’s place was centrally located, and with his parents often out for work, it was their usual meetup spot.
“…It’s been ages since we came to Yoonseo’s.”
“Remembering the way after a month? I might be a genius.”
“Seok-yoon… you must really miss Yoonseo’s joint kick.”
“No, seriously, that hurts like hell. You’ve never been on the receiving end.”
As they neared their destination, the conversation naturally shifted to today’s star, Yoonseo. Hospital food sucks; wonder if he lost weight. He was already kinda underweight, wasn’t he? Did we bring high-fat stuff for that?
“…No one’s here yet, of course.”
Seok-yoon glanced at his phone. Joo-young checked his watch—11:55. Judging by Seok-yoon’s reaction, no one had arrived early.
“Head in?”
“…No need to wait outside, right?”
Seok-yoon strode toward a standalone house, stopping at a neatly painted iron gate. Next to it, a slightly worn intercom sat awkwardly. His chin-jerk gesture was clear.
“My hands are full.”
“I was gonna press it anyway. No need to flaunt your empty hands.”
Joo-young, hesitating as if nervous, cautiously pressed the intercom button. No ringtone sounded, but a blinking green light signaled the homeowner had answered.
“Yoonseo?”
Seok-yoon’s voice cut in. Joo-young stayed silent, used to his friend’s antics. Nothing unusual. Normally, Yoonseo’s voice would reply through the intercom, followed by the gate clanking open.
“…Why’s he not answering?”
Something was off. Twenty seconds of silence—too long. No sign of the gate opening or a voice responding. Sensing something wrong, Joo-young quickly pulled out his phone.
“…He’s reading the messages.”
“Burglar stole his phone and took over the house?”
“We were messaging fine a few minutes ago.”
“What if the replies were the burglar covering their tracks?”
“You really want that joint kick…”
As they traded silly banter, the gate finally opened with a loud clank. Both thought they heard a faint laugh through the intercom.
“What was that? Emergency bathroom break?”
“Sounded like a laugh. Was he listening?”
“Probably had his reasons.”
They stepped through the gate, heading toward the front door. Maybe due to Yoonseo’s sudden hospitalization, a few of his parents’ cherished potted plants looked pitifully wilted.
“That laugh sounded kinda weird, though. Higher-pitched than usual.”
“Voice hoarse?”
“Was he sick with a cold?”
“…He didn’t say what he was in for.”
“Man, a month in the hospital for the flu? Humanity’s medicine still has a long way to go.”
At the front door, Seok-yoon reached for the handle as if it were second nature. The gate might be locked, but the front door was always open at meetup time. Confirming his assumption, the handle turned smoothly, no sound, and the simple-patterned door slid open, revealing a familiar shoe rack, familiar tiles, and—
“…Uh, hi.”
“Huh?”
“Come in, for now. Judging by your faces, laughing this off won’t cut it.”
A blonde-haired girl they’d never seen stood there. Ignoring their stunned expressions, she vanished into the house.
“…Did I see that wrong?”
Sadly, no one was there to answer Seok-yoon’s dazed question.