Double Junk - 87

Ajin blinked abruptly. Seokju? Why so soon? Did he not go to work today? Is it already the weekend? His pupils twitched left and right.

But something about the sound seemed odd. It was light, as if someone smaller than Seokju, perhaps a child or a woman, was walking. Ajin blinked quickly. If it wasn’t Seokju, then who? Why are they coming here? What should I do? Should I get up, or pretend to be asleep, or maybe pretend to be dead?

As Ajin pondered, he turned to lie down on the sofa. Thud. The door opened. Then, with a soft thud again, the door closed.

“…”

In the now silent room, Ajin held his breath. It was impossible to know what had happened. It sounded like someone had thrown a bomb into the room.

Ajin kept his breath suppressed for a few minutes. Then, he sneakily turned his body to look towards the door.

The room was still empty. However, something new had appeared. It was a dining table.

Ajin, with a face that seemed half out of his mind, looked at the table as if he were seeing an illusion. Despite its original purpose, seeing food that he couldn’t even glance at for the past few days felt novel. Still, it seemed Seokju didn’t intend to let him die.

A large bibimbap bowl was filled with porridge. Finely chopped vegetables were mixed with white rice, and snowy seaweed floated on top. There was also egg soup on the side, a soy sauce dish, finely shredded beef jangjorim, and kimchi.

Ajin picked up the chopsticks. For a moment, the wooden chopsticks felt heavy, but he didn’t drop them.

Ajin cautiously approached the porridge. Then, he blew on it. Despite the sharp pain in his throat and lungs, he persisted in blowing gently. Although his stomach was terribly hungry, he didn’t want to greedily shove the food into his mouth like a beggar.

When the porridge had cooled a bit, he brought it to his mouth. The big spoon seemed to tear at his lips, but he persevered and swallowed it down. For the first time in a long while, the dry tongue that had been rough like a wasteland became moist. Saliva flowed, and the roof of his mouth felt pleasantly tense.

Ajin took another spoonful and another, muttering to himself.

“It tastes bad.”

I want the food that the lady and the flower girl made. The lady really made amazing porridge. Due to his weak constitution and susceptibility to cold, he had suffered from colds and illnesses throughout the year. Even when she scolded him, asking how a wimp like him managed to catch a cold, she still made delicious porridge. It was just made with whatever ingredients were left, but it tasted so good because the lady’s hands touched it.

“It’s tasteless. Really tasteless…”

Ajin repeated the word “tasteless” while continuing to feed himself with the porridge.

I miss her. And… I miss Seokju too. Not the current Seokju who treats me so harshly, but the Seokju from just a week ago. The Seokju who was kind to me.

Ajin lifted a spoonful of porridge.

‘Like a disabled person with bad legs. I’m a jerk at sleeping.’

‘….’

‘Shall we help each other, disabled folks?’

The Seokju who spoke with a smile came to mind. Ajin closed his eyes tightly and then opened them, pouring the porridge again.

‘You’re special, like you have a disability. I’m a jerk at sleeping.’

‘….’

‘Ajin, you are exceptionally special to me. I personally apply medicine for you.’

The Seokju who spoke about my uniqueness came to mind. Along with the porridge, Ajin swallowed that uniqueness.

‘You’ve grown up like a precious young master. Your appearance, your soft skin.’

Ajin stroked his own face with the hand holding the spoon. It felt swollen, torn, and covered in scabs. Smirking, he swallowed the porridge again.

“Why aren’t you coming?”

“…”

“I’m waiting.”

“Don’t wait.”

“Why. You know I can’t sleep without you.”

“…”

“I couldn’t sleep for three days without you. Felt like I was going to die. Save me, Ajin.”

The image of Seokju, who begged despite having strength, money, and power but had a frail body, came to Ajin’s mind. Ajin’s tears fell into the porridge-filled mouth. A single drop of tear splashed into the bowl. Ajin, amidst tears seeping through the porridge, stared blankly at the scene.

“Ajin.”

“Yes.”

“You’ll come tomorrow too, right?”

“…”

“You should come the day after tomorrow too. Now, I can’t sleep without you.”

Seokju came to mind. Tears fell.

“I like you. I like you the most.”

Seokju came to mind. Tears fell.

“Ajin. I won’t abandon you.”

“…”

“I won’t lose you like your parents. Even if, by any chance, we lose you, I’ll definitely find you.”

“…”

“Don’t be lonely. I’ll always be by your side.”

“…”

“So, let’s live like this together.”

Seokju came to mind. Tears fell.

“Uh-huh… Huh, huh…”

Soon, Ajin burst into tears. Even in the midst of crying, he continued to feed himself with the porridge. His chest felt tight, as if it would choke him. Still, he kept spooning and spooning.

Finally, the porridge bowl emptied. Ajin couldn’t let go of the spoon. Clenching it until his fingers turned white, he cried for a long time.

Ajin, who had been crying with all his might, only regained his senses in the late afternoon. His energy had been drained by the tear-soaked meal he forced himself to eat.

Ajin struggled to get up. Regardless, having filled his stomach with warm rice made him feel much better. He decided to go outside.

He picked up the scattered clothes from here and there and put them on. The clothes were embarrassing, but there was no other choice. It wasn’t like he could take off Seokju’s shirt and wear it. He thought about asking the servants for clothes.

Ajin tossed Seokju’s robe, which he had been holding onto for the past few days, into the laundry bin like throwing away trash. Then, he opened the door and carried the dining table out.

Cleaning up after himself was only natural for Ajin. He had no intention of running away, and there was no other servant to do it for him.

Originally, Ajin had no talent for thinking in that direction. He had lived by doing only what he could without a head because he had never lived such a complicated life. It was only natural.

Ajin walked down the corridor, holding the dining table with difficulty. He was heading to the kitchen. He didn’t know if he had anything to do, but he wanted to move his body. It seemed better than lying crumpled up in Seokju’s cold, rusty room.

Ajin struggled to walk, stopping three times in the long corridor. The table was unbelievably heavy. His arm felt like it would fall off, and his legs shook so much that he had to lean against a pillar, panting heavily. By the time he reached the kitchen, his forehead was damp with cold sweat.

Ajin, crossing the kitchen, opened the door to the kitchen area. It felt awkward and exciting to open the kitchen door after such a long time. He cringed for no reason when he entered Seokju’s room, which was as cold as a tomb. Then, he opened the door to the kitchen area. How long had it been since he opened the kitchen door? Feeling awkward and excited, he cringed slightly. He proceeded to the kitchen stairs.

“…”

Ajin widened his eyes.

“Who’s there?”

One of the servants inside asked.

“Who are you?”

Ajin asked too. With that question, an awkward silence swept over. Ajin quickly blinked his eyes.

There were about five servants in the kitchen. Men and women were evenly mixed, but Ajin didn’t recognize any faces. They were all strangers. No ajummas, ajusshis, or noonas were in sight.

The kitchen was still the same, with servants preparing vegetables and cooking. Yet, something felt oddly different. Ajin felt it when he took a step back, gripping the door frame. The servants in the kitchen whispered loudly.

“They have legs. It’s not Daerye-jen.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s that person. The one in the boss’s room.”

“Oh… Prakchi? Is it Myungji’s brother, Jojin?”

“What’s that? Why are you here?”

A big man approached Ajin. His expression was fierce. Although Ajin hadn’t done anything, he seemed ready to swing his fist. In the face of such a threatening attitude, Ajin hunched his shoulders and mumbled.

“To clear the table…”

“Just leave it there, just.”

Ajin silently put down the dining table. The spoon rolled to the floor, and he picked it up, placing it back on the table.

The servants glared at Ajin with disdain. Their gaze was as sharp as needles. Ajin lowered his head, feeling the difficulty of receiving such harsh stares even from the servants he used to work with. It was painful and heartbreaking to be treated like a criminal by strangers.

The servants conveyed to Ajin through their eyes and silence that he should leave. Ajin, staggering, climbed the narrow stairs. When he kicked the door with his foot, he turned back, taking a deep breath. He looked at them again.

“Where are the others? The original people, the working staff.”

“What people?”

“The ones who were originally here, the workers.”

“They’re not here.”

“Well, where did they go?”

“How would I know? They’re all gone. Sent away by Seokju hyung.”

Sent away. What did that mean? Were they fired? Why? People had been treating them roughly, but they had done their job well. Seokju and the other members had never mentioned anything about them. But to be sent away.

In the midst of the confusion, his heart sank.

…Could it be because of me?

Maybe someone was collaborating with me? Maybe Prakchi knew about it? Did he cut ties completely to get rid of it?

A moment of chaos continued, and his heart dropped.

Ajin turned without closing the kitchen door and opened the window door to the courtyard.