Double Junk - 142

It was a magnificent sight. It was more beautiful and splendid than any scenery Ajin had seen since birth. As he stared at it blankly, distracting thoughts began to flood in like waves.

It would have been nice if Miss Flower had been here. We could have brought a delicious lunch. If Miss Flower had come, if only…

His mind, indulging in pointless imaginations, soon went blank. It felt like he was intoxicated by Miss Flower’s death. At that moment, Seokju, who had cleaned Ajin’s feet and put shoes on him, met his gaze and asked,

“Can I stay beside you?”

Ajin looked at him with blurred eyes. Then he slowly nodded. Seokju sat down next to Ajin with a thud. Their arms brushed lightly.

And at the same time, all the harsh realities hidden behind Miss Flower’s death rushed toward Ajin.

It’s time to go back, right? To the so-called daily life. By car. To Seokju’s house. We have to go back.

He couldn’t remember what state of mind he was in when he drove here. Now he had to drive back for several hours. How would he endure it? No, was it even right to go back? Now that he had no reason to stay there.

“…”

Enough. Miss Flower is dead, and here I am thinking about such things. I’ll manage somehow. Somehow. As long as I live.

Ajin wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, clearing his thoughts. Then he looked at the sea again. The vast sea seemed to relieve his heavy heart.

Ajin thought that the relief was a resolution. He thought the sadness, depression, and hopelessness had vanished. But only when he got into the car to go home did he realize there was a hole in his heart.

Suddenly, his chest hurt terribly. He had never understood what it meant to feel torn apart, but now he finally did. Once he recognized it, the tears he had been holding back began to flow uncontrollably.

“Huuu…”

Ajin cried the entire way back to Seoul. Hugging the empty urn, he cried louder than the car’s engine. He cried with all the remaining strength he had left.

“Huuu, sniff, huuu… Ajumma… sniff, huuu…”

The car felt like it was going to burst with Ajin’s sobs, yet it was silent. Neither Myungjin in the driver’s seat nor Seokju in the passenger seat said anything.

They thought they were being considerate, but somehow, that made Ajin even sadder.

‘Why are you crying, you fool? What did you do wrong to cry?’

The hand that used to slap his back,

‘Don’t cry, don’t cry. Crying won’t get you anything. Huh? Ajin, don’t cry.’

The warmth that used to stroke his cheek,

‘Why are you crying… Oh, look at your eyes, look at your eyes. They’re so red, they’re about to burst. Stop crying. Come here. I’ll give you rice in bean sprout soup. Just eat that.’

The voice that used to comfort him kept coming to mind. Over and over again.

Everything about Miss Flower was too vivid. But strangely, that made her death feel even more real. It was painfully sad to realize that he could never, ever, no matter what, feel her warmth or hear her voice again.

“Huuu, Ajummaa…”

Ajin hugged the cold urn even tighter, though it remained cold.

Half-Insomnia

Ajin was sitting on the floor, leaning against Miss Flower’s bed. Miss Flower had slept a lot before she died. Strangely, her scent didn’t linger on the pillow or blanket. It was so sad and disappointing. It felt like Miss Flower had abandoned him.

He knew it wasn’t true. He knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault. But an immature feeling of disappointment surged.

His chest hurt too. It felt like a drought-stricken rice field. It felt like a wasteland, or like poorly dried soybeans. In any case, it was drying up, crumbling, and breaking apart. He wondered if Miss Flower’s heart disease had transferred to him.

Well, that wouldn’t be so bad either.

On a sunny spring day, Ajin didn’t open the sliding paper door or the room door. He was wasting time, leaning against Miss Flower’s bed.

All I used to do was give Miss Flower her medicine, eat meals with her, prepare her bed, and read her books. There wasn’t a single task I did without her, so now that she’s gone, there’s nothing to do.

Three days had passed since I scattered Miss Flower’s ashes at sea, and I still couldn’t find anything to do. Day and night, I would either space out, cry, collapse asleep, sob, and then space out again.

“…”

Ajin sniffled with a nose already reddened. Knock, knock. Someone was at the door. Ajin neither answered nor looked back. He thought it might be someone bringing food, someone urging him to eat, or someone sent by Seokju to chase him away. One of those, probably.

But.

“Ajin.”

The voice calling him was overly gentle. Ajin shivered and bit his lower lip before turning his head slowly. He saw Seokju standing at the door.

Seokju, wearing only a white shirt, blurred and came into focus repeatedly. Ajin couldn’t tell if it was because of the tears filling his eyes or his lack of energy.

Seeing the lifeless Ajin, Seokju’s expression became serious.

“I heard you haven’t been eating. I came because I was worried.”

“…”

Ajin remained silent. Seokju crossed the threshold. Normally, he would ask if he could come in and wait for permission, but this wasn’t the time for that.

Ajin said nothing again. Seokju signaled behind him, and the person standing there quickly set the table in the middle of the room and left, not forgetting to close the door.

Seokju looked around the room briefly before opening the sliding paper door wide, letting the sadness that filled the room escape. The scent of the flowers in the yard rushed in. Ajin unconsciously took a deep breath of it.

Seokju sat cross-legged in front of the round table and patted the spot next to him.

“Ajin. Come here.”

“…”

“Hurry.”

“…”

Ajin stubbornly kept his mouth shut, indicating that he didn’t want to go or eat. Seokju sighed deeply through his nose.

“Do you want me to stay in this room with you? Well, I don’t mind.”

Seokju gently threatened. A faint wrinkle formed on Ajin’s brow. After hesitating for a moment, he reluctantly approached the table.

The smell of food hit his nose. He wasn’t pleased by it. Just looking at the steaming porridge made him feel queasy. The thin soybean paste soup, finely chopped kimchi, beef jangjorim, and squid jeotgal were appetizingly prepared, but none of them interested Ajin.

Seokju handed him a spoon as Ajin sighed repeatedly.

“Even if you don’t feel like it, you have to eat.”

“…”

“I know it sounds like nagging, but you need to eat. Just eat a little. I’m not asking for much. Just five spoonfuls. If you don’t want the rice, eat the meat.”

Seokju spoke as if soothing a child.

“Five spoonfuls. I won’t leave until you eat them.”

He even threw a tantrum like a child. Ajin let out a small scoff. The laugh didn’t last long. Seokju really wouldn’t leave until Ajin ate five spoonfuls. He would stay by his side for three or four days if needed.

Ajin took the spoon. He stirred the porridge pointlessly. The steam rose more thickly. His stomach churned, but he forced himself to eat one spoonful. He felt like if he starved to death, Miss Flower would scold him terribly.

“Well done. Good boy.”

A satisfied smile appeared on Seokju’s lips. It was just eating, yet he didn’t hold back on the praise. Ajin scooped another spoonful of porridge. Seokju placed a piece of jangjorim on his spoon.

“…”

Ajin brought it to his mouth without a word. But at that moment.

Plop.

A heavy, dull liquid fell onto the table. Ajin thought he had spilled the porridge. It felt just like that. He glanced towards the sound, and the liquid was in front of Seokju, not him.

It was very red, intensely red.

Ajin urgently looked up. He saw Seokju pinching his nose. The red liquid was none other than bl00d from Seokju’s nose. He seemed just as surprised.

“Oh, sorry…”

Seokju apologized. Ajin stared at him intently. He had been the one not eating and crying for days, yet it was Seokju who had a nosebleed.

Seokju’s nosebleed didn’t stop easily. His palm was wet, and wiping it with the back of his hand didn’t help. His white shirt sleeve was stained with bl00d.

Ajin, who had been frozen in shock, finally snapped out of it. He dropped his spoon and grabbed a towel from the corner of the room, handing it to Seokju. Seokju took it and covered his nose, then stood up quickly.

“Finish eating. I’ll come back later.”

Seokju smiled awkwardly and hurried out of the room. Ajin watched him go. The door closed, and the hallway became noisy. It seemed the members were fussing over Seokju with concern.

“…”

Ajin, unable to do anything else, picked up the spoon again. There was nothing else he could do.

And Seokju didn’t return until Ajin had eaten the promised five spoonfuls. Ajin ate five more, just in case. But Seokju didn’t come back.

That night, Ajin was a little scared.

He was afraid Seokju might be suffering from a fatal illness like Miss Flower.

He was afraid Seokju might leave him too.

He was afraid he would be completely alone.

He was scared.