Double Junk - 162

“Ah, I only turned on one air conditioner.”

Seokju raised an eyebrow and picked up a container from the bedside table. It looked like a series of pencil holders linked together, and it held six remote controls.

With practiced ease, he picked up one remote at a time and firmly pressed the red buttons. Each time, a soft beep sounded from different corners of the room, followed by lights turning on.

The first device that turned on was as tall as Ajin and placed at both ends of the room. Next, something on the ceiling activated, and long blades unfolded. Other devices also came to life, though it wasn’t clear where they were.

Soon, a cool breeze, sharp like the air of a winter mountain, flowed into the room. Ajin, wide-eyed, looked astonished as though witnessing magic. He pointed a tentative finger at one of the machines emitting the chilly air.

“What… is that?”

“An air conditioner.”

“Air… is it American?”

“…”

Seokju blinked rapidly three times, then shook his head.

“No… it’s domestic.”

“Oh…”

Ajin nodded, murmuring to himself, So it’s domestic… But the more he thought, the more he wondered if this place was really Korea. After all, he didn’t even know the exact name of this world. They used the Korean language, but who knows? Maybe in this world, Korea dominated the globe, and everyone spoke Korean.

Ajin pinched and released the blanket absentmindedly, lost in his musings. Then, Seokju’s hand approached him.

With his whole hand, Seokju swept back Ajin’s bangs. Then, he gently rubbed the flushed skin of Ajin’s cheek with the back of his hand. Not stopping there, his hand slipped inside Ajin’s loose collar and ran over the sweat-dampened area from his shoulder to the nape of his neck. The touch was so natural it felt unthinking.

Ajin froze momentarily, then flinched in shock seconds later. His eyes widened, and he shrank back, pulling his upper body away while holding his water glass, which sloshed violently.

The skin that Seokju had touched felt alien, as though it had grown scales. Even after his hand moved away, the sensation of being pressed, stroked, and bluntly scratched lingered uncomfortably.

Ajin’s reaction seemed to surprise Seokju as well.

“Oh, I… because you were sweating…”

Ajin’s eyes grew even wider. Why… Why are you wiping my sweat? Why are you doing this? Why… just like that…

Ajin pressed his disheveled hair down with his palm, then froze. Strangely, his overheated head had cooled significantly. It seemed to be because of Seokju’s cold hand.

…A cold hand?

Was Seokju cold?

Seokju?

Ajin looked at him again, but Seokju suddenly looked as though he had been slapped and hurriedly apologized.

“If I made you uncomfortable… I’m sorry.”

His tone was polite, but there was a faint sense of confusion, as if he couldn’t understand why Ajin would be upset. It seemed like he was accustomed to such interactions. From his perspective, Ajin’s reaction must have seemed abrupt.

“Um… where’s my mother?”

Ajin rubbed the spot on his cheek where Seokju’s hand had touched, trying to change the subject.

“She stayed until midnight before returning to her room,” Seokju replied, placing the container of remotes back on the table.

“…”

“…”

An awkward silence fell. Through the dim light, their eyes occasionally met. Ajin’s wandering gaze eventually landed on the clock.

[3:08]

The electronic clock on the edge of the bed emitted a faint glow. Without taking his eyes off it, Ajin asked:

“What’s today’s date?”

“It’s Friday, May 12. Three hours ago, it was the 11th.”

“And the year?”

“2023.”

Ajin inhaled sharply. 2023. It was a number he had never heard before.

The year 2000? That meant… how many years had he traveled from his time? From 1951 to 2000, and then another 23 years… Ajin couldn’t figure it out. Arithmetic with four digits was too challenging. Even counting on all his fingers and toes didn’t help.

“What about the country…?”

“This is Korea. Specifically, Seoul. Your home, where you live separately, is also in Seoul. Your company is located here too. Oh, Seoul is the capital of Korea.”

“That… that much I know.”

What do you take me for? Ajin glared at Seokju indignantly. Though Seokju had been trying to explain things kindly, something felt slightly off.

Seokju lightly bit the inside of his cheek. Meanwhile, Ajin set the water glass on the bedside table and cautiously called out to him.

“Kang… Secretary.”

“Yes, President?”

“Am I… the president?”

“Yes, you are.”

“Of what company?”

It was a nervous question, as startling as when he asked what an air conditioner was. Then again, even Seonhwa hadn’t recognized him earlier. Seokju clicked his tongue quietly. He grabbed the jacket draped over the sofa and retrieved a black business card case. It held Ajin’s business cards, which was typical for a secretary to carry.

“These are your business cards, President.”

Seokju pulled out a business card and handed it to Ajin. Ajin accepted it with both hands. Seokju turned on the bedside lamp. The crisp letters engraved on the card became fully visible.

[STUDIO HS/ Studio Hyunseong
President Han Ajin
A: 142 Teheran-ro, Gangnam-gu, Seoul, Hyunseong Media
T: 010-727-0001
E: [email protected]]

Ajin’s eyes narrowed. Why does this business card have so many squiggly foreign letters? The world must be going downhill for things to be so littered with foreign words… Despite muttering inwardly, Ajin scrutinized the business card carefully. [President Han Ajin]. The phrase felt unfamiliar but oddly not unpleasant.

Ajin stared at the card as if trying to pierce through it with his gaze, and finally, Seokju spoke.

“It’s Studio HS. It was formerly called Hyunseong Media. It was part of Hyunseong Daily but became independent 17 years ago. The company mainly produces and invests in dramas and films. These days, it collaborates extensively with OTT platforms.”

“…”

Ajin understood only about half of what Seokju was saying, but he could roughly infer that it was a company that made movies for theaters.

Ajin looked at the business card again. Hyunseong. The name felt strangely familiar.

“Hyunseong…”

Ajin repeated the name a few times and then, suddenly, something clicked. He remembered the ointment Seokju had given him when he was confined to his room.

[玄星 Chemical Corporation ]

The characters for “Black” (玄) and “Star” (星). He vividly recalled the bold letters on the ointment tube. He also recalled that the newspaper Seokju had been reading was Hyunseong Daily, and the theater near the house where he had lived alone was named Hyunseong Theater.

So, this company has been around since back then. But now, he’s the president of it?

“Hyunseong… Pharmaceutical…”

Hearing Ajin mumble, Seokju’s eyebrows raised with interest.

“Oh, do you remember?”

“…”

“Hyunseong Pharmaceutical was liquidated by the chairman, your mother. In Korea, developing new drugs is challenging due to strict regulations, so the company faced many difficulties and required too much effort.”

“…”

Ajin’s eyes drooped. What Seokju said was hard to understand. Noticing this, Seokju moved a bit closer to him.

“Your mother is currently the chairwoman of Hyunseong Group. Your older brother is the president of Hyunseong Daily, and your older sister is the CEO of Portal H.”

“Older brother? Older sister? I have siblings?”

Ajin’s face was filled with surprise once again. Seokju nodded lightly.

“Yes, you have two. Your older brother’s name is Han Jungjin, and he’s eight years older than you. Your older sister’s name is Han Mijin, and she’s six years older. Neither of them is currently in Korea. They wanted to come immediately upon hearing about your condition, but your mother advised them not to.”

Ajin poked at the corner of the business card with his fingertip. Jungjin, Mijin, Ajin. So they use the character “Jin” in their names. Though unfamiliar, it was fascinating to realize that they were his family.

“Am I… close to them?”

“Yes, you are on good terms with them.”

Without much hesitation, Seokju confirmed it. Ajin nodded as well. Suddenly, he had three family members when he’d had none before. Though he had never seen their faces, his heart felt strangely full.

Still, something seemed missing… After pondering for a moment, Ajin quickly realized what it was.

“But what about my father?”

“Your mother never married.”

“My mother never married?”

“Yes.”

“Oh… I see…”

She never married, yet she had three children? Does such a thing work in this world? Well, it’s 2023, after all. Why not? In a world with machines that blow out cold mountain air, anything seems possible.

Ajin pulled up the blanket and scooted closer to Seokju. Having accepted that he had landed in a new world, his curiosity bubbled over. There was so much he wanted and needed to know.

Seokju quietly observed Ajin’s shimmering navy-blue eyes. Meeting his gaze, Ajin chattered away with questions.

“How old am I?”

“You’re 27 years old.”

“27? Then am I married?”

“Ma… Married? Are you asking about marriage?”

“I’m not married?”

“No, you’re not. It’s still considered a bit young for marriage.”

Seokju’s tone was slightly taken aback. Ajin let out a thoughtful hum. At 27, it didn’t feel too young to him, but perhaps it was different here.

Fiddling with the business card, Ajin glanced cautiously at Seokju. Trying to appear nonchalant, he asked,

“Then… what about you, Secretary Kang? Are you married?”

“No, I’m not.”

Seokju’s answer was clear and direct. It was a very satisfying response.

“How old are you, Secretary Kang?”

“…I’m 33.”

“That’s quite late.”

Back then, and now again. In any world, it seemed, Seokju wasn’t particularly interested in marriage. For some reason, Ajin felt a faint sense of relief about that.