GB 125

Haero, having secretly slipped out of the auditorium, pulled out his communication device from inside his jacket. He brought up the screen to contact Yoon Moo-hwa, then paced in circles, deeply conflicted. Is he still on the ship? Yoon Sang-won had firmly refused to tell him due to security issues, so he couldn’t know.

If he was still on the ship, even if Haero contacted him, getting a response would be difficult. And Yoon Moo-hwa was certainly at sea. If he had docked, there’s no way he wouldn’t come to see him.

But despite this belief, Haero felt terribly upset.

What if he was on land but couldn’t contact him? What if it wasn’t that he couldn’t come, but that he chose not to? Yoon Moo-hwa had too many important matters, and perhaps Haero had been pushed to a later priority?

Haero’s certainty and confidence dissolved into loneliness and sadness, and his small body, overcome with disappointment, lost all its strength.

Staggering as he walked, Haero flopped down on a bench under a wisteria-covered shade. His fancy outfit and new shoes—all sent by Yoon Moo-hwa—felt uncomfortable, perhaps because they were new.

In truth, he was just finding fault. He felt he needed to find something to criticize to ease his heart.

Haero lay there with his eyes tightly shut. It’s just a graduation where nobody comes anyway, just get the diploma and it’s over. For Haero, it was merely “this stupid graduation,” “this stupid day,” nothing more.

The wind blew gently. Though it was February, the weather was mild, a perfect spring day. He started to feel drowsy.

“…”

Haero opened his eyes suddenly at the sound of running footsteps, not even realizing he had dozed off briefly.

“Oh.”

Wiping his mouth and rising groggily with eyes not fully open, Haero sat dazed, trying to remember where he was and why he had fallen asleep.

His slowed mind felt very soft. While still in a daze, Haero’s eyes snapped open at the sound of someone calling him.

“Haero!”

The slightly angry voice belonged to Yoon Moo-hwa.

‘Did I hear wrong?’

Haero jumped up and looked around.

“Haero!”

This time the voice sounded angrier, yet also relieved.

There was a reason he couldn’t find him despite looking around. Yoon Moo-hwa was behind Haero. Only after turning around did he see him. The moment Haero saw Yoon Moo-hwa, he forgot all his earlier disappointment and ran to him. His footsteps were as light as if wings had sprouted on his feet.

“Yoon Moo-hwa!”

He had grown quite accustomed to calling him “hyung,” but perhaps because he had just woken up, or because he was deeply hurt before becoming overjoyed, Haero called out Yoon Moo-hwa’s full name.

Yoon Moo-hwa bent his knees and opened his arms. Haero, running toward him, had grown significantly since Yoon Moo-hwa first found him, but he was still remarkably small to Yoon Moo-hwa. Yoon Moo-hwa picked Haero up, hugged him tightly, then set him apart.

“You!”

Anyone could see he was angry, but despite Yoon Moo-hwa’s scolding, Haero just kept smiling brightly.

“How could you disappear without saying anything!”

“Is it really Yoon Moo-hwa?”

Ignoring the scolding, Haero held onto Yoon Moo-hwa’s waist, resting his chin on Yoon Moo-hwa’s stomach, grinning widely.

“Is it really you? I thought you weren’t coming! I thought you couldn’t make it!”

“…There might be times I can’t come, but never when I won’t come.” Yoon Moo-hwa muttered, swallowing a sigh. “More importantly, I told you not to disappear without saying anything.”

Though he scolded sternly, the anger had completely left his voice. Hearing Yoon Moo-hwa’s softened tone, Haero smiled even more broadly.

“I really thought you couldn’t come!”

Haero’s excited smile slowly faded. Children’s emotions change easily. The sadness he had been suppressing seemed to resurface as Haero lowered his gaze. With his head down, hiding his face, he spoke in a brave tone.

“So I was going to handle it well by myself—no, I don’t know. It doesn’t matter to me anyway. I don’t understand why graduation ceremonies are important or why everyone congratulates you. I only attended this school for three years, so…”

Yoon Moo-hwa, listening silently to Haero’s words, knelt down.

“Haero, look at me. Let me see your face. I came straight from docking and haven’t had a proper look. Let me see how much you’ve grown?”

After resisting Yoon Moo-hwa’s gentle coaxing several times, Haero finally gave in and lifted his head. Above all, Haero had missed Yoon Moo-hwa terribly.

Yoon Moo-hwa’s hands could hold all of Haero’s face with room to spare. Yoon Moo-hwa smiled very faintly.

“You’ve grown a lot. Really grown a lot.”

It wasn’t just empty words. Haero had grown rapidly, almost to the point of making Yoon Moo-hwa feel a little sad. They say children grow every time you look away, and that seemed true. Especially since sometimes he only saw him once a month, or even once every half year.

“You’ve grown well. Without getting sick.”

Of course, Haero must have had sick days. Nights when he suddenly had an upset stomach or a fever. But he wouldn’t tell Yoon Moo-hwa about those. Because Yoon Moo-hwa was too far away, too busy. For those reasons. Haero had matured too early, and that made Yoon Moo-hwa endlessly sad. He hadn’t expected to feel so upset about such small matters.

“Congratulations on growing up well.” Yoon Moo-hwa whispered as if celebrating a birthday. “That’s what we’re celebrating today. Your graduation.”

Just a graduation.

Everyone said it like that.

Even Haero himself had scoffed, calling it “this stupid graduation.”

But not Yoon Moo-hwa.

Yoon Moo-hwa realized this was Haero’s first graduation ceremony, and also his first time attending Haero’s graduation. Only after raising Haero did he understand how soft and malleable children are. Those soft bones had become this sturdy, and even though the frame was still far too thin, it had grown this much. It was admirable and lovely. His first graduation ceremony. How could anyone attach words like “just” or “mere” to something so meaningful?

Yoon Moo-hwa returned holding Haero’s hand. Their destination wasn’t the auditorium but his car. He had sent his father’s driver away.

He would surely get a speeding ticket. He had made a big mistake, considering his duty to maintain dignity. But he didn’t care. He hadn’t thought about such things then. Yoon Moo-hwa had rushed over as soon as he docked, and though he couldn’t see Haero receive his diploma, he had collected it on his behalf and found Haero.

“I picked up your diploma for you.”

“…I’m sorry. For not letting you see that moment.”

Yoon Moo-hwa looked puzzled at Haero’s apology.

He turned toward Haero, holding the diploma.

“Haero.”

At that stern voice, Haero unconsciously straightened his posture.

Yoon Moo-hwa read the diploma. However, the content was quite different from what Haero had seen.

“This student has grown up brave and healthy despite his guardian Yoon Moo-hwa’s absences, and has gifted his hyung with this special day of graduation, for which this certificate is awarded.”

Haero’s eyes slowly brightened. His small face, where smiles spread like mist, became as bright as the sun rising through that mist.

Watching this transformation, Yoon Moo-hwa smiled quietly. Then he folded the certificate and handed it back.

Haero took it and hugged it tightly to his chest. Just a graduation. This mere graduation. In an instant, it became one of the most special days in the world. So this is why people buy flowers and celebrate. This is why.

“Just a moment.”

Yoon Moo-hwa asked him to wait briefly, then rummaged for something in the back of the car.

It must be a gift. Haero knew in advance but pretended not to. His expression became slightly deflated, knowing all too well what Yoon Moo-hwa would give. Though his thoughtfulness was deeply appreciated, the problem was that Yoon Moo-hwa always bought him things like stuffed toys as if he were still a baby.

It’ll be another stuffed animal. But still, it’s a gift from Yoon Moo-hwa!

Haero prepared himself to show great joy and waited.

Soon, Yoon Moo-hwa emerged. He was holding a large shopping bag. Yoon Moo-hwa took out a box from inside and carefully opened it in front of Haero.

“Wh-what? What?! WHAT?!” Haero was so surprised that his eyes widened and he stammered, then jumped up and shouted, “It’s a nautical chart drawing kit!”

Yoon Moo-hwa had deliberated long and hard.

What he had chosen, what he had ultimately selected, was this.

He needed to go through the process of accepting that Haero was no longer an infant or a baby. Haero’s graduation was his graduation too.

Because it’s an age when hearts change so quickly.

Yoon Moo-hwa watched contentedly as Haero rejoiced, secretly hoping that Haero would soon tire of this toy and toss it in a corner. Then he pulled one more item from the shopping bag. It was a music box in a small container.

“I’ll show you the aurora when we get home, Haero.”

He whispered, meeting Haero’s eyes. No matter how many times he said “congratulations,” it never felt enough, but saying it too frequently seemed to dilute its meaning.

But as if reading Yoon Moo-hwa’s concerns about wanting to celebrate him properly, Haero threw his arms around him.

“I’m so happy you came. This is what I like best.”

It wasn’t just an empty phrase; it was full of sincerity. Yoon Moo-hwa embraced Haero in return, overwhelmed by the abundant joy flowing from him.

***

The cruise ship rescue operation had extended the voyage, leading to water rationing. 

At home, Yoon Moo-hwa ran a bath and washed away all his accumulated fatigue.

Feeling refreshed and languid, he left the bathroom and went straight to Haero’s room. No one was there. He immediately set out to find Haero.

Haero often gave Yoon Moo-hwa the slip and hid, and each time, Yoon Moo-hwa found him well. Not because Haero’s hiding places were predictable—Haero was truly good at hiding—but because Yoon Moo-hwa could read Haero’s mind to an almost uncanny degree.

“Haero, are you hiding again?”

But this time, Haero wasn’t hidden from view. Yoon Moo-hwa just hadn’t discovered him yet.

Yoon Moo-hwa headed toward where he had heard Haero’s response. There, he found Haero curled up like a small pebble, lying face down.

“There’s a desk and a dining table, why are you there?”

As Yoon Moo-hwa picked up the curled-up Haero, Haero squirmed and whined.

“I’m drawing nautical charts.”

“That’s exactly it. I’m saying you don’t need to be there in a way that’s bad for your back.”

“Why is it bad for my back?” Haero asked with wide-eyed curiosity.

Well, Haero’s body is that of a soft child.

Yoon Moo-hwa understood but didn’t concede. He carried the squirming Haero to the dining table, bringing the nautical chart kit as well.

Sitting down across from Haero, who was grumbling that it was more comfortable drawing while lying down, Yoon Moo-hwa made a mental note to ask their housekeeper to make sure Haero sat properly whenever she found him lying down.

He felt languid.

Yoon Moo-hwa draped one arm over the back of the chair and listened to the sound of Haero drawing nautical charts with his eyes closed.

The scratching sound of a pencil. The occasional sound of an eraser when he made a mistake.

“Haero.” Yoon Moo-hwa called Haero with his eyes still closed.

“Yes.”

“When you grow a bit more, you’ll find that too childish and won’t play with it anymore, just like the stuffed animals, right?”

“No, I won’t.”

“You will.”

“Why are you talking like that?” Haero spoke with a hurt tone. 

Yoon Moo-hwa opened his eyes halfway and stared at Haero. Haero became sullen under that languid, downward gaze. He disliked Yoon Moo-hwa when he showed that attitude of “I know everything because I’m an adult and have lived through your age.”

“I won’t get tired of it. I’ll never tire of anything you give me.”

“The day will come when you’ll worry about how to throw away what I’ve given you.”

“I’m serious. I won’t throw away the stuffed animals either.”

Yoon Moo-hwa chuckled softly at that bold declaration.

That laugh of disbelief made Haero feel stubborn.

But seeing the sleepiness on Yoon Moo-hwa’s handsome face as he closed his eyes again, Haero held back.

The scratching sound of the pencil resumed. Haero paused and lifted the pencil to his nose. It had a sharp, fragrant wood scent. The same smell that came from Yoon Moo-hwa.

“Are you finished?” Yoon Moo-hwa asked, perhaps because the pencil sounds had stopped.

Haero hastily removed the pencil from his nose, like someone caught doing something wrong.

“No. I’m going to do more.”

“Okay.”

“If you’re sleepy, go up to bed first. Or should I go upstairs? Am I bothering you? Is it too noisy?”

“No.” Yoon Moo-hwa said in a drawling voice, “Stay there.”

He already seemed half in a dream. Does Yoon Moo-hwa dream too? Haero was always curious about the older Yoon Moo-hwa, the ages he himself hadn’t yet lived.

“Stay there, Haero. It’s nice having you here.” Yoon Moo-hwa said with a  drowsy voice. 

Haero’s lips quivered. Though he knew Yoon Moo-hwa couldn’t see with his eyes closed, he nodded and then fixed his gaze back on the nautical chart.

Measuring the vast sea, Haero imagined Yoon Moo-hwa’s life that he never revealed. Where had he been this time? And where would he be next? It would be nice if Yoon Moo-hwa’s trajectory could be seen as clearly as this nautical chart, as if looking at his own palm.

The scratching sound of the pencil continued.

Yoon Moo-hwa surrendered his body and mind to the pleasant sensation of not wanting to move a finger, taking complete rest. Wistfully appreciating Haero who would someday grow up, and also looking forward to it. Thinking that even if someday Haero left him, he would never forget this sound.

✼✼✼

Contrary to Yoon Moo-hwa’s expectations, the nautical chart kit became Haero’s most treasured toy. He kept it even until he reached an age when he no longer played with toys, only leaving it behind when he had to leave Yoon Moo-hwa.

Yoon Moo-hwa kept all of Haero’s belongings without exception, and they were brought out again when the two perfectly combined their households after Haero returned following the kidnapping incident.

It is still one of Haero’s most cherished possessions.

Sometimes, young officer Haero draws nautical charts. When he does, Yoon Moo-hwa quietly sits across from him and closes his eyes.

Complete rest comes to him. In this time that he thought had gone but has returned, he reflects on Haero’s loveliness.