The third week of May.
The season everyone else was buried in midterms.
"Hey. You know how to paint a nude?"
That was when the lunatic came for me.
Raon had been exceptionally gifted from a young age.
From kindergarten, every competition he entered ended in a top prize. Once he began studying art in earnest in middle school, he swept up wins not only at national contests but at competitions hosted by overseas galleries.
They weren't famous, but both of his parents had been painters, and thanks to that, Raon, brimming with artistic talent, had been counted a next-generation prospect since his school days.
In the past, anyway.
"Teacher, am I doing this right? When I render it this way it keeps smudging…"
"Raon, the customers are leaving! Could you ring them up?"
"Raon~. Could you take a look here just once? Stand up straight, there you go."
Private tutoring, a barbecue joint, modeling for a clothing shopping mall. There wasn't a part-time job Raon hadn't tried.
The truth was, if only his tuition had been covered, he wouldn't have had to go this far. But one week before his practical exam, his parents had died.
The shock left Raon scraping in right at the admission cutoff. He never managed to land the full four-year scholarship.
On top of that, given the nature of a subject like art, paints, brushes, paper, and other materials were always needed. Depending on what you bought, the prices ranged wildly.
Even prepping on a budget had its limits. Since he had to practice a great deal, they were consumables he had no choice but to buy on a regular basis.
After his parents passed, Raon was left in the care of relatives, and he always needed money. The relatives' side had told him plainly they didn't have the means to put him through school on top of everything else.
And Raon agreed with that. Maybe if he'd still been a minor. But once you became an adult, you should manage your own affairs.
He had no complaints there.
But even setting aside materials and school expenses, Raon always needed money.
Because he wanted to study abroad.
He wanted to leave for Paris, France, where his parents had studied together. He wanted to study art further there.
On that single wish, the moment Raon came of age, he set himself up in a gosiwon near campus.
He'd wanted the dorm, but the gosiwon was cheaper than dorm fees.
In a tiny space barely three pyeong, Raon started everything from scratch.
He attended school diligently and cut off contact with the relatives' house, where he'd lived under constant scornful glances.
And so, four years.
Having saved money like a madman, Raon graduated early, secured a professor's letter of recommendation, and left to study abroad.
And at twenty-seven.
Raon set foot on Korean soil after a long while.
But the moment he got off the plane, the place he headed wasn't the studio apartment he'd lined up in advance… it was the relatives' house he'd cut off.
"Oh my, goodness! The boy lived overseas for a bit and look how dashing he's gotten."
"…Hello, Aunt."
Wheeling in a huge suitcase, Raon greeted her awkwardly.
The relative he hadn't seen in nearly seven years didn't seem much changed. But that only made it more uncomfortable.
After his parents died, the relatives had grumbled about whether they really had to look after someone else's blood when their own circumstances were already hard. The fact that they'd always been on bad terms with his parents played a part too. And that soon turned into discrimination, violence, and neglect.
When Raon caught a bad flu, they never once took him to a hospital. And when he was sick and took medicine, they'd slapped his cheek, demanding why he was eating up what their child should have.
It was the same when he got into university. They'd done nothing for him, yet they blamed Raon, saying that brat had hogged all the family's college luck.
There had even been a time they sprinkled salt on Raon, claiming a dead relative's spirit had latched onto the house.
And yet now…
"How could you, only telling us now that you'd gone abroad to study. We're still family, you know. It hurts our feelings."
Why is she being so warm?
His aunt patted Raon's back, not hard, and steered him toward the kitchen.
"Mincheol will be home tomorrow or so, so let's just eat among ourselves today. Your uncle will be here soon too."
Leaving his suitcase off to one side of the living room, Raon followed behind her, face taut with nerves.
The truth was he'd had no intention of ever coming back to this house. But she'd pleaded that since it had been so long, he should come just once, and he'd had no choice.
Trudging along like a man being dragged to the slaughterhouse, Raon forced himself down at the table laden with a feast.
"…?"
His cousin had clearly said he was coming tomorrow.
Don't tell me this was all made for him to eat?
Why?
In the time he'd briefly lived in this house, Raon had never once received a spread like this. Hadn't they refused to even share a table with him, saying you shouldn't eat alongside a kid who'd just come from a funeral?
His cousin had even flipped his rice bowl over entirely once, calling him bad luck.
Raon suddenly felt his mouth go bone-dry.
A short while later.
His uncle, having shut up the shop, came tottering in. Looking up at the man who stood a good head taller than him, the uncle clapped him hard on the flat of his back.
"Well now. You've gotten a real glow about you, Lee Raon? Overseas living really is something. Here we are working ourselves to the bone."
Should I just leave?
Raon slowly curled the hand hidden inside his shirt into a fist. The uncle, who'd jabbed at him so casually, patted his hungry belly and headed for the table.
"Woman, would it kill you to set our meals out this nice once in a while?"
"Quiet down and just sit. Raon, come on and sit too. You're hungry, right?"
His aunt smiled sweetly and settled him back into his seat.
"And your studies went well?"
The uncle asked, picking up his spoon.
Raon parted his lips with difficulty.
"To some degree, yes."
"That's the way. You went all the way abroad, you can't just go and play around. These days, you know, doing all your fun and all your slacking, you won't make it. The arts especially. A friend of mine's son does music, apparently. Tsk tsk. That kid's a lost cause."
Scooping a big bite of rice, the uncle reached for a nicely cooked rib.
"So what're you going to do now? An exhibition, or selling your work, something like that?"
"I'm not quite at that level yet…"
"Hey, you really have to work hard. You think you went to art school for show? That degree's hard to use to get hired anywhere else, too. You should've learned a trade like our Mincheol."
"Dear."
His aunt nudged from beside him in warning. But the uncle ignored her, smacking his lips loudly as he chewed.
Raon wet his throat with a sip of the water set out beforehand.
"Um…. Why did you call me here so suddenly?"
"Ah, right."
The uncle, as if just remembering, sucked the rib sauce off his fingers.
"Raon. Do you happen to have any money saved up?"
"…Money?"
"Yeah, yeah. You must've worked part-time in Paris or whatever. And if you could afford to study abroad, you'd have had some put away already."
Money, all of a sudden?
Raon felt himself growing uneasy.
And then.
"It's just that our Mincheol-."
His guess didn't miss the mark.
"The boy's got a lively streak of curiosity, you know. You remember? That time he tried to get to school faster and jaywalked and nearly got hit. Anyway, he's young and reckless."
"…"
"This time, well, he did pull a little something."
Ahem!
Clearing his throat, the uncle spooned up a mouthful of bean-sprout soup.
"Mincheol had a bit too much to drink and lost his head and, well, took the wheel."
For a moment Raon doubted his own ears.
"He drove… drunk?"
"Drunk driving, come on. The way you say it, you make it sound like he committed an actual crime."
A hedgehog thinks its own babies are darling.
The uncle threw up a blood-shield for his son, who'd caused the accident.
"But the other side's calling for a damn ridiculous settlement, you know? Imported cars are king. King. Domestic ones get no respect."
"…"
"While you were off living the overseas life, Raon, Korean society got real harsh. It's hard for a small-business owner to survive."
"…"
"We took care of your parents' debts and all the rest, didn't we? Looked after you all through high school. And you and Mincheol grew up together like real brothers."
So at least,
"Shouldn't you help us out this one time?"
…Right.
In the end, this was the reason.
Raon bit gently into his lower lip.
The lavishly set table. The sudden talk of family bonds.
All of it was about money.
"The kid's the same age as you. He's a fresh young adult, and, tsk. If he gets slapped with a fine this early, what's gonna happen to his life? Don't you feel sorry for him?"
The Raon saying this is a fresh young adult too, you know. Having shamelessly deployed a double standard, the uncle let out a burp.
"On top of that, it seems the other party knows you."
"Knows… me?"
At the unexpected words, Raon's eyes widened.
"Yeah. I was going on about how the kid was so broke from studying abroad, and the other side asked for a name? So I gave yours, and suddenly they handed me a business card."
The uncle pulled a thick wallet from his pocket and held out a crumpled, folded business card.
"What was it? Ga Gijo? They said you'd know if I said that."
"…?"
The hand reaching for the card froze in midair.
Who?
Ga Gijo?
The one I know.
That Ga Gijo?
"What kind of name is that, Ga Gijo, for crying out loud. Slapped together. You should pick something proper and rooted, like our Mincheol."
The uncle shook his head, looking thoroughly displeased.
"They said to give them a call. And your timing's good, you just got into the country. Give them a ring and smooth things over, won't you? Where would we get the money to fix an imported car? You seem to know the guy, so it'll be easier to talk. Raon. Your uncle's asking you, just this once, tsk."
