Jihoon's phone buzzed with messages as he rode the bus. The first came from Minjae: "What are you thinking?! Leaving alone? I'm never talking to you again, Park Jihoon!"
Though he'd expected it, he still felt guilty, but if he'd left with them, they'd have tried to persuade him to come home with them. And he wanted to be alone right now. He didn't want to be in that house yet.
The next text was from Detective Roger: "Stay out of trouble. Call me if you get sick."
Jihoon smiled at the message: Be good, be healthy.
A minute later, Minjae follow-up message arrived: "Mum's left soup in the fridge. Eat it or you're dead meat."
He laughed. Minjae knew him too well.
The walk up the steep hill to his apartment was not easy, and he almost regretted making the trip alone.
"Jihoon-ah," Rin Halmeoni called as he approached. She sat on the small deck outside her shop despite the chilled February air.
He sat on the deck. It was an excuse to catch his breath, which puffed out in heavy clouds.
"You look tired." Rin Halmeoni frowned.
"I'll recover."
"Why isn't that policeman with you? He's handsome."
"Rin Halmeoni, are you cheating on me?" Jihoon asked, adding a huff of indignation.
She chuckled, a twinkle in her faded eyes. She reached behind her and pulled out a small vial of golden liquid, a thick root suspended in it. "Here. It's medicinal wine, ginger root from Palgongsan."
"I'm not old enough to drink," Jihoon reminded her.
"When I was your age, five-year-old kids could drink wine." She held out the vial, and Jihoon graciously accepted it, bowing low.
"Oh, and there was someone looking for you earlier."
"Seojun?" he asked.
"No, cuter." She winked.
He frowned, hoping it wasn't more creditors.
• • •
The restaurant's front windows were dark. Chairs turned over, stacked on top of the empty tables. A handwritten sign was taped to the door: CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE. If Jihoon concentrated hard enough, he could imagine the scent of one of his grandmother's jjigaes permeating the air, the clatter of dishes, the laughter of customers. But he didn't.
Because the memories stung, knowing he'd always taken that life for granted. Taken his grandmother's presence for granted.
Bujeoks fluttered along the door frame of the apartment as he let the door swing shut. He took off his shoes and laid them neatly next to his everyone else's.Though it had only been a month, it felt like the space missed everyone's presence as much as Jihoon did. Nothing had been moved but everything felt a little duller.
He almost expected to see Lily come running down the hall, barking her happy greeting. She was better off at the new apartment, where she'd get daily attention. "This place is a mess."
Jihoon whipped around as a shape emerged from the dark kitchen.
"Who are you?" Jihoon raised his fists, ready to defend.
"I'm not your enemy," the voice said. It was definitely male.
"If you're not my enemy, then let me see your face."
The boy who stepped forward was barely older than Jihoon. Perhaps twenty years old with a chiseled face and clear eyes.
"Nice to meet you. Name's Eamon." The boy grinned a dazzling smile.
"I'd introduce myself, but I don't often meet people trying to rob me."
"Do I look like I'm here to steal from you?" Eamon asked.
It was a valid question. The boy looked like he'd walked out of the pages of a fashion magazine. Dark pants and a long wool coat hung off his tall frame. A gold watch peeked out from under his long sleeve.
Probably expensive enough to pay off some of the bills stacked on the table.
"Why are you here?" Jihoon glanced toward the couch, where he'd flung his jacket. His cell phone was in the pocket.
"Sometimes I ask myself that. Why do I get myself into these situations?" Eamon sat next to Jihoon's jacket, crossing his legs comfortably. "I think it's because of my face. It's beautiful, so people want to be around me. And I'm a sucker for good company." He gave a saucy wink.
Who was this boy?
"I'm a good listener. So people think they can spill their guts to me. It's only a matter of time until they're telling me all of their deepest secrets. You'd think more people would be afraid of a child of Fate and Life" Eamon gave a shrug.
Jihoon jerked back. He stared at Eamon with a more critical eye.
"Why would a time keeper be in my house?" Jihoon's eyes darted around, looking for a good weapon.
"Why do you think?" A smile quirked at Eamon's lips like he was asking a riddle.
"Loralie?"
"Ddaeng!" Eamon sounded gleefully. "Wrong child."
Flutters winged through Jihoon's stomach, like dragonflies taking flight.
"Shane?" He whispered her name, like he was afraid of hoping.
"he's worried about you." Jihoon's eyes hurt like he'd held them open too long on a cold day. Then he realized he hadn't been blinking.
"he'd kill me for telling you that," Eamon said. "he asked me to make sure you weren't living in squalor. Didn't think you'd be back so soon, but I'm not one to hide."
"Where has she been?"
"Around." Eamon flicked his wrist, like that was explanation enough.
Jihoon decided he hated this boy, hot or not.
"Well," Eamon said, standing. "It's getting late. I am starving. Do you think there are still kids at the playground?"
"Sheesh I am just kidding."
Jihoon stared at him, speechless.
"I should get going. I wasn't joking about being hungry. Should I get jjajangmyeon or jjamppong?" he wondered "Anyways, I need to return to Heaven soon. My half brother and sister will not be pleased if they find out I am here." He sauntered to the door.
"Tell Shane to come himself," Jihoon blurted out.
"Huh?" Eamon gave him a curious look.
"If he's so worried about me, then hee should come check on me himself." Jihoon gripped the sides of his pants so he wouldn't fidget with the nerves that raced through him.
Eamon took a moment to consider the request, then nodded before departing. The door swung shut, fluttering the bujeoks by the door.
Jihoon sank into the couch. He was starting to get a headache.