GBH 54

In Kim Deuk-pal’s generation, “allergies” didn’t exist. Of course, allergies existed elsewhere in the world at the same time, and people who ate ingredients that caused allergic reactions would visit the hospital. Allergies were a potentially life-threatening condition lurking in everyday life.

However, at least in the rural village of Mokpo, Jeollanam-do where Kim Deuk-pal was born and raised, no one claimed to have allergies. The concept of allergies was so unfamiliar that even those experiencing allergic reactions were often scolded for being picky eaters rather than recognized as having a medical condition.

It wasn’t until Kim Deuk-pal moved to Seoul that he learned about the existence of allergies. After living in Seoul for quite some time, he realized that allergies, which he initially thought only affected city dwellers, were actually common symptoms that could affect anyone. Thinking back, Kim Deuk-pal recalled feeling itchy after eating blood clams, a rare treat during holidays at his childhood home, and wondered if that might have been an allergic reaction.

Still, he hadn’t known that Song Yi-heon had allergies.

This was Kim Deuk-pal’s first thought as his consciousness hazily returned. He had only seen people collapse from allergic reactions in foreign movies; he never imagined experiencing it himself. He hadn’t even eaten half a pineapple, yet his breathing was obstructed and he had collapsed. Along with the absurdity of the situation, a bitter realization washed over him that the real Song Yi-heon had never known the deliciousness of pineapple.

Where are you, Song Yi-heon?

Kim Deuk-pal called out to Song Yi-heon’s soul, whose whereabouts were unknown. But as always, Song Yi-heon’s soul didn’t answer. Feeling dejected, Kim Deuk-pal wondered what he was doing and opened his eyes. After several strenuous attempts due to his weakness, his eyes fluttered open.

“Are you conscious?”

As his blurry vision came into focus, he saw a deeply concerned Choi Se-kyung. The shocked expression Se-kyung had worn before Kim Deuk-pal lost consciousness was still vivid, and his face upon waking wasn’t much different. Only the scenery behind him had changed from home to hospital.

Touched by Se-kyung’s concern, Deuk-pal weakly gestured for him to come closer. He roughly ruffled Se-kyung’s hair.

“…I’m alright, kid.”

His lips were cracked and dry from the hospital’s arid air. Se-kyung helped Kim Deuk-pal sit up and brought him water. The shock had passed and emergency treatment had been swift, allowing him to see the afternoon sunlight filtering through the window into the hospital room. Se-kyung, who had held the water glass until it was empty, explained what had happened while the fake Song Yi-heon was unconscious.

“We called an ambulance and came to the hospital. The housekeeper couldn’t come because your mother was alone at home.”

“…You should go home too. It’s not a big deal, no need to stick around.”

Se-kyung ignored this and put away the water glass. Then, noticing the workout clothes Kim Deuk-pal had taken off to change into a hospital gown haphazardly bunched up on the bedside table, he frowned and unfolded them. As he properly folded the clothes, Choi Se-kyung said:

“I talked to the housekeeper, and he insisted I tell you. He said he had cut the pineapple for me to eat since no one at home eats it. Apparently, Song Yi-heon has a severe pineapple allergy. He knew about it and never ate it. The housekeeper was surprised too, saying Song Yi-heon ate something he’d never eaten before.”

After a pause, he added. Throughout his speech, Se-kyung didn’t meet the fake Song Yi-heon’s eyes.

“…It seems you also have a severe pineapple allergy.”

Choi Se-kyung looked like he had a lot to say. Kim Deuk-pal’s muscles tensed with nervousness at Se-kyung’s profile, his tightly closed mouth suppressing many questions. Even to Kim Deuk-pal, it seemed suspicious to eat pineapple without hesitation while having such a severe allergy, and it was ridiculous to insist on not knowing about the allergy at nineteen. Choi Se-kyung knew the original Song Yi-heon and the fake Song Yi-heon as different people, but having the same allergy was more than a mere coincidence.

It was unlikely that the perceptive Choi Se-kyung hadn’t noticed these oddities, and given his personality, he would likely demand the truth. Kim Deuk-pal waited for Choi Se-kyung’s questions, feeling as if he were walking on thin ice, worried they might end up in another argument or fight like before.

However, while fiddling with the neatly folded clothes, Se-kyung, who had driven Kim Deuk-pal to the edge with anticipation, didn’t ask anything.

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault for bringing the pineapple.”

“No, it’s not your fault…”

Se-kyung’s apology seemed so sincere, without a trace of doubt or lingering questions, that Kim Deuk-pal wanted to urge him to ask why he wasn’t inquiring further. His clear eyes were filled only with worry.

“Oh, and there’s someone else who came-“

Se-kyung, who had met the visitor first, showed discomfort. It was rare for Choi Se-kyung to openly dislike someone, and as Kim Deuk-pal was wondering about this, the hospital room door swung open, and a figure entered, his sharp heels clicking on the floor. Lee Mi-kyung stopped at a moderate distance from Song Yi-heon and irritably removed his sunglasses.

As soon as he entered, he raged just like when he had visited the hospital room after Song Yi-heon had jumped from the pedestrian overpass. His finger joints were white as he trembled, seemingly restraining herself from throwing the clutch he was holding.

“Are you trying to get attention by deliberately eating pineapple? First jumping off the overpass, and now you’ve decided to cause regular scenes? Are you becoming like your mother? Do you want attention so badly that you’d harm yourself? That’s a mental illness, you know.”

She was unparalleled in her ability to pour salt on the wounds of sick people. His appearance was so timely and his words so caustic that Kim Deuk-pal, who had just regained consciousness, was bewildered as to why this woman was here. Se-kyung leaned in and whispered in his ear. He too frowned, displeased with Lee Mi-kyung’s comments.

“The housekeeper called her.”

“Ah-“

Lee Mi-kyung had been the only guardian to visit the hospital after he fell from the overpass. Given that she had ignored all contact until now but walked in on her own when he was rushed to the emergency room, it was unlikely she came out of concern. It seemed she faced some sort of penalty if anything happened to Song Yi-heon.

The only person who could penalize Lee Mi-kyung was the Chairman, that man.

It seemed the Chairman hadn’t completely given up on Song Yi-heon. Kim Deuk-pal became certain of this as Lee Mi-kyung fumed. Well, even if he was an illegitimate child, it would be troublesome if a blood relative died. Probably due to Lee Mi-kyung’s desperate efforts to prevent it, the Chairman likely didn’t know that Song Yi-heon had tried to die by jumping off the overpass.

With this sudden realization clearing his head, Kim Deuk-pal was finally able to sneer.

“So you’re someone I can only meet after crossing the Jordan River.”

He pushed down on Choi Se-kyung’s shoulder as he tried to stand up. Se-kyung’s help might be needed. Leaning on Se-kyung’s shoulder, Song Yi-heon lowered his legs from the bed and lifted his chin arrogantly with that characteristic languid expression, prompting Lee Mi-kyung to lash out hysterically.

“Why do you and your mother torment me like this? Is it so hard to just stay put? If I had known you’d act like this, I should have grabbed you both then and thrown you into a mental hosp-“

Lee Mi-kyung realized her slip and abruptly closed her mouth. Biting her lower lip until her lipstick smeared, she changed the subject when she saw Song Yi-heon maintaining a meaningful smile as if he hadn’t heard her mistake. Her aggressive attitude softened.

“…What were you thinking, eating something when you clearly knew you had an allergy?”

“Well, I guess I ate it believing you’d take me to the hospital.”

Although Song Yi-heon refrained from speaking informally out of consideration for Choi Se-kyung, he didn’t hold back his words.

“You were trying to put my mother in a mental hospital, weren’t you? I wonder if you could manage to hospitalize just me.”

Lee Mi-kyung merely pouted her lips, expecting some kind of reaction.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Your mother being out of her mind isn’t news, and as you say, maybe going to a mental hospital would be better for her.”

Without evidence, Lee Mi-kyung denied everything, acting as if she hadn’t been avoiding contact all this time. Unsurprised, Song Yi-heon could calmly inquire about the Chairman’s wellbeing.

“How is the Chairman doing?”

Lee Mi-kyung revealed her irritation at his sudden mention of his biological father. To her, Song Yi-heon was a pathetic guy who couldn’t even follow in the Chairman’s footsteps. Displeased by his audacity to mention the Chairman, her fingernails dug into her clutch as she became defensive.

“Please send my regards to the Chairman. Tell him I’ll visit sometime.”

“…What would someone like you do meeting the Chairman?”

“Then he should come visit me.”

As Song Yi-heon lifted his sharp chin, the corners of his mouth curved into an even more arrogant smile.

She had almost forgotten due to his neglected status, but Song Yi-heon was the Chairman’s son. Blood is thicker than water. Lee Mi-kyung knew this too, which is why she was desperately trying to prevent the Chairman from finding out about Song Yi-heon’s near-death hospitalization. No matter how formidable that woman was, the Chairman would side with Song Yi-heon at the crucial moment.

Kim Deuk-pal relished in imagining Lee Mi-kyung’s distorted face at that moment.

This was revenge. Not childish fistfights, but returning the wrongdoing of trying to arbitrarily suppress someone’s life.

Lee Mi-kyung needed to stumble and fall due to her own mistakes.

* * *

Night came early in the hospital room. The time when he would normally be studying with bright lights on at home was lights-out time in the hospital. Being in a private room meant he wasn’t bound by lights-out rules, but since the rash inside his clothes hadn’t completely subsided, Kim Deuk-pal put away his studies and lay down on the bed.

He tried to sleep peacefully, thinking it had been a while since he’d worried about thugs sent by Lee Mi-kyung, but sleep wouldn’t come. After tossing and turning on the hard bed, Kim Deuk-pal opened his eyes. Song Yi-heon’s brown eyes were wide awake.

How could he dramatically inform the Chairman about Song Yi-heon’s suicide attempt and cut Lee Mi-kyung out…

As he was lost in thought, his phone screen suddenly lit up in the darkness. Kim Deuk-pal reached over to unplug his charging phone and checked it to find a message from Choi Se-kyung. It was a simple “good night” greeting, to which he replied by attaching one of the goodnight images he had been collecting.

He was grateful that Choi Se-kyung hadn’t asked anything today, despite surely being surprised. Feeling pleased after sending a thoughtful reply, Kim Deuk-pal ran his index finger along his philtrum. Soon, the ‘1’ indicating the message had been read disappeared. There was no reply, but Kim Deuk-pal was confident in the sparkling effect of the moonlit sky image he had sent.

He must be overwhelmed with emotion, that kid…

Back in his gangster days, his subordinates would always say they were reminded of their parents whenever they received a message from their boss. Kim Deuk-pal, who had taken their flattering comments about where he found such images at face value, felt content on his own.

As he was considering sending a few more images and browsing his gallery, he suddenly recalled how anxious he had felt in the afternoon about his relationship with Choi Se-kyung potentially souring. Why had he worried about getting into an argument or fight with Choi Se-kyung at that moment, when he was just a smart kid after all?

It could be because he was receiving a lot of help from Choi Se-kyung. Not just with studying, but in various ways since Lee Mi-kyung had ransacked the house. He thought it might be because things would become inconvenient without Choi Se-kyung, especially with studying, but Kim Deuk-pal absolutely hated being mindful of others just because life might become uncomfortable.

So what exactly should his relationship with Choi Se-kyung be called? Kim Deuk-pal tapped the bed sheet with his index finger.

He’s a bit… uncomfortable to give orders to as a subordinate… Friendship? Well, age doesn’t matter in friendship. Yes, it’s friendship. Equal relationships can develop strong attachments through interactions. Between people of the same gender, that emotion was called friendship.

“How sentimental…”

Kim Deuk-pal muttered self-reproachfully, feeling satisfied at becoming like a normal teenager with friends, but then feeling like he wasn’t acting his age. He forced himself to try to sleep to calm the rash. He was full of expectation at the thought of being discharged tomorrow and going to school on Monday. Unlike earlier when he had tossed and turned anxiously, now he fell asleep quickly with a faint smile on his face.

Though he was supposed to be substituting for Song Yi-heon’s soul, Kim Deuk-pal was adapting to high school life.