Chapter 3

San.

The first time I saw him was on a summer day.

It was in a field brimming with nameless purple flowers, beneath a sky dotted with fluffy, cotton-like clouds.

The day was exceptionally beautiful. A breeze carried the rich scent of flowers, and there he stood.

I remembered his jet-black hair, tousled by the wind.

His round, large eyes, his crimson lips, his small stature, even the shape of his perked-up ears… his first impression was so mystical, I wondered if I had stumbled upon a forest fairy.

His eyes, especially. Those black pupils, shining like obsidian, instantly captivated me. For a fleeting moment, time seemed to slow to a crawl.

The noisy cicada chirps faded into a muffled hum. The scorching sunlight seemed to dim…

How could I ever forget that unbelievable moment, when even the pollen dancing in the air looked like glitter someone had deliberately scattered?

Completely absorbed, I only snapped back to reality when he hastily bowed his head. Then I realized he wasn’t a fairy, but a child of Socheon, and this place was strictly forbidden.

It was only natural to want to get closer, to observe him. I even remember the sensation of clenching my fists, holding back the urge to reach out and touch him, wondering if he was real or just an illusion.

As I stood before him, who was frantically kneeling, I instinctively bent down to meet his gaze.

It was neither proper etiquette nor an act I should ever have committed, yet, strangely, no thoughts crossed my mind in that moment. Even though it was a time when rules were to be obeyed as if life depended on them.

“Hello?”

“……”

“Who are you? You look like a child of Jijok…”

I could tell by the clothes he was wearing.

According to the rules, which dictated lighter-colored clothes as one ascended from the earth towards the heavens, garments dyed with ochre were for Jijok, those dyed with gardenia for Ssijok, and marigold-dyed cream garments were reserved solely for Cheonjok.

Furthermore, the face covering he hastily fumbled to put on his ears indicated that he was of the lowest status even within the Jijok.

It suddenly made sense why I had never seen him before, and why such a beautiful child had never caught my eye. He and I were as far apart as heaven and earth, destined never to meet.

“This is not a place you’re allowed to enter. Didn’t you know?”

He couldn’t possibly not know. Children of Socheon were taught the rules meticulously from the moment they could understand speech. I simply wanted to give him an excuse.

“I, I must have taken the wrong path. I’m, I’m sorry! This w-won’t happen again!”

“Right. It happens. But do you know who I am?”

“Huh…? Well, of course…!”

As he abruptly lifted his head, as if he’d heard something he shouldn’t have, his face suddenly began to glow. Literally, it sparkled, like transparent jewels embedded in his skin.

In truth, it was just a ray of sunlight that had broken through a gap in the clouds and illuminated his face. And it was also due to the mysterious blisters covering his face. But at the time, it felt like a revelation.

Watching him shimmer in the sunlight, I thought, perhaps, he, not I, was the one who truly belonged in this beautiful field.

He, seeing my surprise, hastily tried to cover his face in shame, but strangely, I didn’t find him hideous; rather, I felt a pang of pity.

“What should I call you?”

“Huh?”

“Your name, I mean. Don’t you have a name given by the Jijok chief?”

“…It’s San.”

Even his name suited him perfectly: unassuming yet splendid, fragile yet firm.

That was when I felt the desire to keep that child by my side a little longer.

It was when I saw his hands, gently cradling flower stems even in his fright. It was when I realized the dirt on his hands represented a heart full of care for someone.

“San. Did you want to take the flowers?”

“Huh?”

His repeated wide-eyed questions made me chuckle.

When I laughed, his face flushed bright red. I covered my mouth, feeling apologetic for his extreme embarrassment, but my lips still curled upward. At that time, I naturally assumed he was younger than me, so I regarded him like an adorable little brother.

“Who are the flowers for? Your mother? Or a sister?”

“M-my mother likes flowers… I, I just wanted to take a few! But that’s, that’s not allowed… I truly did wrong.”

Even with a frightened expression, San answered readily. I liked that he was different from others, who would simply prostrate themselves on the ground and avoid eye contact.

“Then let’s go over there.”

“Huh…?”

According to the rules, I should have immediately banished him and reported the incident to the elders. They would then punish the rule-breaker and ensure such a thing never happened again through proper education.

But I didn’t want to do that to someone who had risked so much for his mother.

“There are more beautiful flowers further inside. I’ll take you.”

“But how could I…?”

“What if someone else sees you if you stay here? Come on.”

Should I have not extended my hand then?

If that day, we hadn’t gone picking wildflowers together.

If we hadn’t become friends.

If the days that followed, with me protecting you and you comforting me, had never happened.

Then would I not be suffering this heartbreak now…?

San.

–

“Geonwoo.”

The man, turning his head towards the one calling him, had a face almost devoid of color.

It was too early to call it morning. The garden, veiled in a bluish twilight, was still shrouded in lingering mist, creating an eerie atmosphere. And the face of the person sitting alone in the midst of it all…

“Couldn’t you sleep?”

It was not so different from the woman’s face, which seemed somehow fearful even as she gazed at her son.

“Mother.”

The two people, seemingly alike yet unlike each other, gazed at one another in silence for a moment.

A gaze that seemed to seek confirmation intertwined with one that willingly offered itself up for inspection. It was a process of retracting keenly raised antennae, reassured by a smile crafted to suggest there was no danger whatsoever.

That process, akin to distinguishing friend from foe, concluded the moment the woman smiled. Tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, she spoke in a soft voice.

“Won’t you come inside? I’ll make you some tea.”

“I’m waiting for someone.”

Directly in front of him, there was nothing but thick mist and a stone fountain where no water flowed.

Who was he waiting for? Beyond that mist, there was only overgrown vegetation; was someone truly going to appear from there? It was enough to make her wonder, but the woman didn’t press further, simply nodding. Her smile, deep enough to show her dimples, seemed to hold a hint of relief.

But Guk Geonwoo smiled back, as if he hadn’t noticed a thing.

“The morning air is still cold. Please go inside, Mother.”

“Alright. Don’t you wait too long either.”

Their conversation, between mother and son, ended there. It was their long-standing agreement, polished just enough to be neither overly intimate nor too awkward.

Of course, that agreement also encompassed their unspoken pact to ignore things like the dried bloodstains on his hand or the dirt on her white feet.

The woman vanished as suddenly as she had appeared, and Guk Geonwoo, alone once more, put the cigarette he had politely hidden back to his lips. He took several deep drags, holding the smoke in before exhaling a long plume.

The garden, without even the sound of morning birds, was filled only with silence. The sole person in that landscape had been sitting like a still life for a long time, so there was nothing to break the tranquility.

Only when more time passed and the mist finally lifted did the person he was waiting for appear.

“Why is it so damn hot already this morning?”

As if trying to camouflage himself, it was his secretary, dressed in a perfectly fitted, grass-green suit.

What announced his presence as surely as his habitual cursing was the powerful, unmistakably artificial, and unforgettable scent of his cologne.

“Yang Hosu.”

His name, pretty and ill-suited to his appearance, was his Achilles’ heel. Guk Geonwoo calling him by it so casually showed just how close the two of them were. Hosu, too, could tell Guk Geonwoo had spent the night right there, just by looking at his face.

“I told you, why’d you go and get yourself into that mess? It just makes your stomach churn.”

To the scolding about his actions last night, Guk Geonwoo merely responded with a relaxed smile. While he appeared quite composed on the surface, Hosu already knew that anxiety churned deep within him.

“The task I gave you?”

Sure enough. He immediately cut to the chase.

“It’ll be in her hands by today, so please don’t pester me, you bad-tempered executive director.”

Only then did a genuine smile spread across Guk Geonwoo’s face.

As the sun shone on his now-relaxed face, his flawless, smooth skin glowed brightly.

In a scene that finally felt complete, it was a morning where dewdrops shimmered in the sunlight.