GBH 42

 In the lobby, Choi Myung-hyun, a distinguished prosecutor known for his integrity, had just lost his father. While South Korea certainly had a few upright prosecutors, keeping Choi Myung-hyun untarnished wasn’t straightforward due to his in-laws’ extraordinary background.

His in-laws were conglomerates who ran a prominent department store in Seoul. As a result, the funeral hall was crowded not only with mourners for Choi Myung-hyun but also those trying to establish connections with his in-laws. Naturally, Choi Myung-hyun couldn’t hide his grim expression. Despite already rejecting dozens of floral arrangements, upon hearing that more were arriving, he stepped out to return them.

“Kids, let’s sit here.”

After barely managing to pay respects amid the crowd, Jung Eun-chae ushered the children into the reception room and seated them at an empty table. Basic side dishes, alcohol, and drinks were already set up on the table. Kim Deuk-pal attended to their homeroom teacher first, grabbing a beer bottle.

“Teacher, may I pour you a drink?”

“Hmm?”

Just as she was about to sigh, Song Yi-heon politely held up the beer bottle, prompting Jung Eun-chae to unexpectedly extend a glass. Having come from a strict hierarchical organizational background, Kim Deuk-pal was particularly adept at drinking etiquette. Though Song Yi-heon’s presence felt somewhat unnatural, Kim Deuk-pal handled it smoothly, gripping the neck of the bottle with his right hand and supporting it with his left. He tilted the beer bottle without touching the glass and carefully covered the label, ensuring meticulous attention to every detail of the drinking ceremony. Jung Eun-chae looked bewildered as she accepted the tilted beer glass. The harmony between the beer and its appropriate foam was flawless.

How did a high school student learn to pour drinks so well?

As she suspected underage drinking, Jung Eun-chae remembered that Song Yi-heon’s mother was an alcoholic. That thought made her nose wrinkle. With no family except Song Yi-heon to care for his alcoholic mother, he must have reluctantly obeyed her mother’s demand to pour the drink. What could a child understand? He likely did as he was told by his only parent.

Given such a household environment, it was admirable and impressive that he managed to overcome school bullying alone and maintain good relationships with his peers. Our Song Yi-heon still doesn’t have dreams… We need to help him find one. Determined to persist in home visits, Jung Eun-chae turned her head to hide her reddened eyes filled with pity for Song Yi-heon, and took a sip of her beer.

Meanwhile, the children, unaware of Jung Eun-chae’s circumstances, observed Cho Se-kyung greeting mourners in place of his father. Standing in his father’s place while the mourners offered incense, Se-kyung’s complexion was pale. Even when consoled by classmates, his bitter smile was more poignant than any attempt to hide it.

The children gathered together, empathizing with Se-kyung’s sorrow.

“Look at Se-kyung’s face, it’s not good.”

“He must have been close to his grandfather…”

“Yeah, but we have to stay strong so that Se-kyung can stay strong too.”

As the mood grew somber, a male student tried to lighten the atmosphere by filling glasses with cola. Despite a girl nudging him to read the room, the boy raised his glass and brightly suggested,

“Guys, how about a toast?”

“We don’t toast at funerals.”

Kim Deuk-pal intervened politely. The atmosphere grew somber once again.

—

Jung Eun-chae decided to stay longer with other teachers, while the children finished their bowls of beef soup and left the funeral home. Before getting up from their seats, Se-kyung’s mother came and thanked the children, but Se-kyung was detained by middle-aged men in black suits and couldn’t bid farewell.

As they left the densely crowded funeral home, the fragrance of flowers wafted through the cool May night. Breathing in the refreshing air, their hearts lightened, and the subdued mood gradually returned to normal as they decided how to go home outside the main gate of the funeral home.

“Let’s gather with those going the same way. Let’s take a taxi.”

“Yi-heon, how will you get home? You’re the only one going in the opposite direction.”

Kim Deuk-pal checked his watch and said,

“I plan to take the bus.”

“You’re not calling the driver?”

“Uh… he’s gone out of town. Said he had something to do at home.”

He fabricated a lie on the spot and sent the children off in a taxi first.

“See you tomorrow!”

“Okay, take care.”

As the last group of kids in the taxi waved from inside, Kim Deuk-pal waved back and tapped the car to signal the driver to leave. Once the exhaust-spewing taxi merged into another lane and disappeared, Kim Deuk-pal turned away from the bus stop and headed back towards the funeral hall.

As the night wore on, the number of mourners dwindled, making the atmosphere at the funeral hall much more comfortable. Kim Deuk-pal walked through countless chrysanthemum wreaths and glanced at the names of the senders written on the ribbons, far more than at his own funeral.

Kim Deuk-pal was impressed by the family’s stature, marveling at each wreath as he passed by.

Teachers from the school remained in the reception room, so Kim Deuk-pal peeked at the incense burner from an unseen corner. The caretaker was still receiving mourners there. However, the grieving relatives who were there when Kim Deuk-pal paid his respects were nowhere to be seen; instead, there were new faces.

Choi Myung-hyun, who had left to refuse wreaths, returned to offer condolences and shake hands with mourners. Kim Deuk-pal withdrew his hand from his pocket and stood straight. As Choi Myung-hyun watched the mourners leaving the incense burner, he spotted Song Yi-heon.

Perhaps it was an unexpected encounter in an unexpected place that startled Choi Myung-hyun. However, he couldn’t fail to recognize Song Yi-heon. From Choi Myung-hyun’s perspective, Song Yi-heon was a somewhat mysterious figure worth investigating, hence his background check.

Song Yi-heon, who had hidden in the mortuary to confirm gangster Kim Deuk-pal’s death, was also memorable. His reaction when seen in the mortuary was unforgettable, implying a special relationship between Kim Deuk-pal and Song Yi-heon, as if he had been shocked by his own death.

If their connection had ended in the mortuary, Choi Myung-hyun would not have investigated Song Yi-heon. He received the list of his son’s class children’s names at the beginning of each school term. He was monitoring Se-kyung, but also had a purpose to protect other children from his son. Choi Myung-hyun knew well what cruel fantasies Se-kyung enjoyed. After all, his son had once acted out one of these fantasies when he was six years old. This was why Choi Myung-hyun monitored and suppressed Se-kyung.

—

As Choi Myung-hyun sifted through the list accompanied by class photos, he came across a familiar face. Despite the short haircut, the distinctive facial features were clearly those of the face he had seen in the mortuary. From that moment on, Choi Myung-hyun decided to investigate Song Yi-heon.

Se-kyung thought Choi Myung-hyun had investigated Song Yi-heon because of him, but he doubted it. Choi Myung-hyun was actually keeping an eye on Song Yi-heon himself. Encountering a boy linked to the notorious gangster Kim Deuk-paltwice wasn’t a coincidence. Though the reason was unclear, Choi’s intuition as a prosecutor dealing with serious criminals pointed to Song Yi-heon.

Now, in the bustling funeral hall where many people were coming and going, the gazes of these two men were firmly fixed on each other.

Kim Deuk-pal nodded first to acknowledge his presence to Choi Myung-hyun. Choi Myung-hyun responded with a brief nod.

—

After finishing his greeting to Choi Myung-hyun, Kim Deuk-pal did not leave immediately but wandered around the funeral building. He had mentioned being near an outdoor rest area, but unfortunately, there were rest areas on both sides of the building. Finding no sign of Se-kyung at the first rest area he visited, he headed towards the opposite one.

His phone vibrated briefly. Kim Deuk-pal checked the new message:

[IMY(I Miss You)]

The sender was Choi Se-kyung. The content was just consonants. Frustrated, Kim Deuk-pal groaned in annoyance.

“What nonsense.”

It wasn’t even a half-finished sentence, just a new twist on incompleteness. These days, kids are really hard to understand.

“He should at least properly tell me where he is.”

If he hadn’t felt guilty about dragging Choi Se-kyung to Gangneung instead of sending him home, he would have left him and gone home long ago. Annoyed at the memory of Se-kyung’s dejected smile at the funeral hall, Kim Deuk-pal briskly walked towards the opposite outdoor rest area.

It was a bright night with the moon shining brightly. He wondered where the floral scent was coming from and noticed that the outdoor rest area in the distance had acacia trees planted. Overjoyed at having finally found him, he dashed towards the rest area with a wooden gazebo.

He ran so eagerly that the pencil case in his bag rattled. Upon spotting a figure sitting on the edge of a raised flower bed, he abruptly stopped. As Kim Deuk-pal stood in front of him, the figure looked up. Choi Se-kyung, dressed in a black suit, raised his chin and let his eyes droop. Seeing him looking tired and pitiful, Kim Deuk-pal chided him.

“You’re a big guy; why are you squatting on a flower bed instead of sitting comfortably on a bench?”

“It’s a bit noisy over there.”

Indeed, by the wooden gazebo, a group that arrived earlier was chatting and smoking cigarettes. The smoking prohibition mark on the gazebo’s column was visible under the lamplight. As Kim Deuk-pal pondered whether to chase them away and let Se-kyung sit, Se-kyung grabbed his wrist and shook it.

Seeing him ask for attention, Kim Deuk-pal checked his complexion and asked. Since returning to Seoul and parting ways, Se-kyung hadn’t slept well, with dark circles under his eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“No.”

He didn’t bother with the polite lie of saying he was fine. It was better than pretending to be okay. In moments like this, a cigarette could be surprisingly comforting, but all Kim Deuk-pal had in his pocket was gum.

“…Want some gum?”

“No.”

Kim Deuk-pal offered, thinking a bit of sugar might help, but Se-kyung declined with a smile he tried to suppress. Feeling treated like a child by Se-kyung, Kim Deuk-pal tried to pull his wrist away uncomfortably.

“Can I lean on you?”

“Here?”

Before he could ask how, Se-kyung pulled his wrist and leaned his forehead against Kim Deuk-pal’s chest. The warmth of his unusually high temperature from fatigue was felt through Kim Deuk-pal’s shirt. Se-kyung nuzzled his forehead against Kim’s chest, almost like he was seeking comfort.