Double Junk - 160

Ajin was in the waiting room connected to the consultation office. The space was structured with a large glass window that allowed a view of the consultation room. Judging by the various toys scattered around, it seemed to be a place for children.

Sitting on a small chair, Ajin clicked the pen repeatedly. He seemed fascinated, examining the ballpoint pen from different angles. Watching him quietly, Seonhwa asked anxiously.

“Could it be… dementia? My child is twenty-seven now. I was so careful in choosing the donor sperm during my pregnancy—no illnesses, no genetic diseases, not even allergies. That’s how I had Ajin. I fed him the best food, made sure he avoided stress. I even worried myself sick because he couldn’t handle the heat well. But this, this is…”

Seonhwa’s complexion turned pale. The doctor raised a hand, signaling her to calm down, and spoke in a flat tone.

“I don’t think it’s dementia. Dementia doesn’t make you forget everything all at once, suddenly and completely. Usually, people remember their own names and those of their family members, even if they struggle to match names to faces.”

“Then, what is it?”

“It seems more like a case of temporary memory loss, likely caused by a head injury when he collapsed. Or it could be the delayed aftereffect of a previous trauma.”

At this, Seonhwa’s shoulders dropped in relief. Stroking her pointed chin, she muttered.

“But his personality also feels different. He’s so… calm. Quiet. Even his speech is soft and measured.”

“He’s probably overwhelmed by the situation.”

The doctor was typing briskly on the keyboard, then turned to Seokju, seated beside Seonhwa.

“Mr. Kang, do you have anything to share about Ajin’s recent activities?”

“…No.”

“No unusual incidents? Nothing at all?”

“No. He was fine this morning. He didn’t sleep well last night, but that’s not uncommon in summer. Other than that, nothing special. I even caught him when he collapsed—he didn’t hit anything or have an accident.”

Seokju took a deep breath through his nose, glancing at Ajin in the waiting room. Ajin was still clicking the pen, his shoulders and back slumped in a way that didn’t suit him. The memory of Ajin hyperventilating, his face flushed red, gasping for air as if his lungs were twisted, was still vivid in Seokju’s mind. That had never happened before—ever.

Seokju’s dark eyes filled with worry.

“For now, let’s start with a CT scan of his skull and brain and see what the results say.”

The doctor resumed typing.

“Oh, my poor child…”

Seonhwa buried her face in her arms on the desk. The doctor reassured her, telling her not to worry. Meanwhile, Seokju’s gaze fell on the paper where Ajin had written his responses earlier. Tapping the date with his fingertip, he asked.

“What do you think this means?”

[1951. 05. 11]

It was the answer Ajin gave when asked about today’s date—a puzzling response. The doctor shrugged lightly.

“I’m not sure. Does this date have any significance to the chairman’s family?”

At this, Seonhwa’s head shot up. She shook it vigorously.

“No one in our family is that old. My parents passed away a long time ago. Ajin’s never even seen his grandparents except when he was a baby. And it’s not their birthdays or memorial days either.”

The doctor frowned slightly, letting out a hum. Seonhwa sighed repeatedly.

“…”

Seokju stared at the strange, old-fashioned date, then shifted his gaze to the back of Ajin’s head.

Ajin stayed at the hospital for two days—not because he was unwell but to undergo tests. During those two days, he was confined to the hospital, moving from one examination room to another, answering the doctor’s cryptic questions.

The results were inconclusive. Ajin was a physically healthy young man, with not even a minor ailment detected.

Except that his mind was in disarray.

The doctor eventually approved Ajin’s discharge. In truth, it was Seonhwa who insisted on taking him home, reasoning that staying in the hospital wouldn’t bring back his memory and that she could care for him better at home.

Ajin changed clothes in the bathroom. The soft texture of the hospital gown had been oddly comforting, but the clothes Seonhwa handed him felt just as luxurious. It was a simple outfit: a loose white short-sleeved T-shirt and blue pants. Despite its simplicity, it felt distinct. The fabric clung to and released from his skin with each movement, leaving a pleasant sensation.

After neatly folding the hospital gown, Ajin stepped out of the bathroom. Seokju, waiting nearby, casually took the folded gown from him. Ajin glanced at him and quickly looked away.

“Now you look more like my son.”

Seonhwa, who had been organizing Ajin’s belongings, approached and cupped his cheeks. She smoothed down his neatly combed hair, pushing it back with her fingers. Then, she smiled warmly. Ajin returned a shy, awkward smile.

“Here, wear this too.”

She handed him a heavy wristwatch. Its polished design gleamed, as if it were either plated in gold or made of real gold. The watch’s appearance was unfamiliar to Ajin.

“…”

Holding the watch uncertainly, Ajin hesitated. Seeing this, Seokju returned from placing the hospital gown away and wordlessly strapped the watch onto Ajin’s wrist. It fit perfectly, the chain neither too tight nor too loose—made precisely for him.

Without a word, Seokju stepped back after fastening the watch.

Seokju, Seonhwa, and others bustled around preparing to leave. Even Seonhwa’s assistant arrived to help, taking the bag of Ajin’s belongings.

“I can carry that,” Ajin offered, reaching for the bag.

“It’s all right.”

The assistant dismissed him lightly and headed for the door. Ajin hobbled after him, mumbling.

“But I can do it…”

“No, I’m really fine.”

The secretary kept refusing repeatedly. Ajin pursed his lips with a somber expression. Seonhwa tilted her head and asked.

“Ajin, did you sprain your ankle?”

“…What?”

“Why are you limping like that?”

At her words, Ajin blinked and looked down at his feet. Then, he subtly lifted his left leg, which had always been a bit shorter. At that moment, Kang Seokju’s back of the head came into his view. He had knelt down on one knee in front of Ajin.

“Let me check your ankle.”

“Oh…”

Ajin tried to step back in protest, but Seokju was quicker. He gently wrapped his hand around Ajin’s ankle. Then, he carefully massaged the area near the ankle bone and cautiously moved the foot sideways while holding the instep. His large hand completely enveloped Ajin’s foot.

It reminded Ajin of a time when someone had gently rubbed his foot, warming it whenever it felt cold.

“Does it hurt?”

“…”

Ajin couldn’t find the words to respond and stayed silent. Seonhwa squatted beside Seokju.

“Is it sprained?”

“No, I don’t think so. This has been happening since the day he was hospitalized.”

“Oh my, really? Shouldn’t we get it checked out?”

“We did, yesterday. But the results showed nothing wrong.”

“Then why are you limping on a perfectly fine leg?”

Seonhwa looked up at Ajin. Seokju also looked up at him.

“…”

Ajin remained silent. A perfectly fine leg. That phrase felt so foreign that his mind momentarily froze. Come to think of it, his fingers had returned to normal, so why couldn’t his leg do the same?

Ajin twisted his ankle free from Seokju’s grip and stepped back. Slowly, he stood upright. His knees aligned in a straight line. From his big toe, across his sole, to his heel, everything touched the floor evenly. There was no pain. Neither his thighs nor his calves felt strained, and his knees didn’t throb. His left leg, which had always been slightly shorter, extended perfectly straight, without any curve.

It was truly a normal, healthy leg.

He hadn’t realized it. Even while walking through the hospital corridor, he had limped the entire time. Because it was second nature to him. Unintentionally, he had been pretending to be lame with a fully functional leg.

“Ha…”

Ajin let out a short sigh.

Was he really in another world? Or in another body? If not, how could his leg…? He couldn’t believe it. It didn’t even feel like a dream. Ever since he was a child, Ajin had injured his leg, and even in his dreams, he had always limped.

Which meant this wasn’t a dream.

His confusion was short-lived. His heart started pounding heavily. He felt overwhelmed. Suddenly, he was excited about the life that lay ahead. Just walking and running with these normal legs seemed like enough to make him overwhelmingly happy.

A bright smile spread across Ajin’s face. Seonhwa, who was watching him, let out a small laugh.

“Oh, look at you. Why are you suddenly smiling like that?”

At her words, Ajin laughed even harder, his eyes crinkling.

“I’m just happy. So… so happy…”

“…”

Seokju stared intently at Ajin.

Ajin ran his hand over the car seat. It was clearly leather, but it felt smooth and soft, with a surprisingly fresh texture.

He had thought that the cars in this new world only looked different, but even their interiors were unique. Despite it being summer and unbearably hot outside, the inside felt as cool as a cold room. And most surprising of all, there was no sound from the engine. It was so quiet that he felt as if the car wasn’t driving on the road but flying through the sky.

As he rolled his eyes to look around the car, Ajin turned his head to look out the window. His jaw dropped open.

All the buildings were tall. Incredibly tall. So tall that they blocked out the sky. Even pressing his face against the window and craning his neck back, he couldn’t see their tops.

And the streets—why were they so clean? The roads were so smooth, they looked polished. How wealthy could this city be, with so many cars like these? And the people—how could they all be dressed so neatly and stylishly?

Seoul, where he had lived, was a bustling metropolis. But compared to this place, it was nothing.

Ajin stared blankly at the new world outside the window. This was undoubtedly not a dream. There was no way his limited imagination could have created a world like this.