Meanwhile, Raon, having rushed into the restroom, scanned his surroundings.
Thankfully, the space — as spotless and orderly as a hotel — was empty.
A little relieved, Raon stepped into the innermost stall.
"What's going on, all of a sudden?"
"What do you mean what? Hey. Family can't even call each other?"
At that, Raon's brow creased.
"I, you little sh-t, after everything I've done for you, damn it. You can't even pick up one call without an attitude?"
"Don't tell me you've been drinking?"
"Drinking? Hell yeah, I drank. I drank. So what. Huh?"
"…"
Raon quietly clicked his tongue inside.
His uncle and aunt were one thing.
His same-aged cousin was just as ill-mannered as ever.
"Call me back later."
"Hey, you little-! Later, my ass. Why do you think I called you, huh!"
A torrent of fierce complaint came pouring through the receiver.
The way he was hollering at the top of his lungs, the orphan-kid-hanging-up-on-me business must've really stung.
Hawk- The guy spat as he spoke.
"You heard from my mom and dad, right? That I caused a teensy little accident."
"…"
"I mean, hell. I'm cornering, real clean and tidy, and this thing pulls up beside me and rams right into me? Ah, I'm so freaking wronged here. So wronged. And then, sh-t, of all things it's a Lambo-fricking-ghini. Damn it~."
He's the one who caused a drunk-driving accident. And yet he played the world's top victim in his excuses.
Raon genuinely wondered how long he was supposed to keep up this pointless, useless conversation.
His friend was waiting inside. And he knew full well that hearing any more of this drunken whining would do nothing for his mental health.
But every time he tried to hang up, the guy dragged out his words.
"You, ugh, help me out just this once. I mean, how desperate would I have to be to ask an orphan ki—. I mean. Family. Huh? I'm seriously gonna die. Die. Mom and Dad begged you too, didn't they?"
…Could that even be called begging?
Coercion that amounted to a threat could never be that sort of thing, no matter how nicely you dressed it up.
"Ah, right. Anyway, that guy knows you? Hngh. I dug in, said the family would pay it all back so name whatever price, and the bastard asks what my name is. So I said it's Lee Raon, and he suddenly starts cackling? Crazy son of a bitch. All shiny on the outside."
Should he be shocked that the cousin had so brazenly sold out the family? Or shocked at this whole situation, that of all cars the guy had smashed up that Ga Gijo's and gotten his name found out, on top of everything.
His clever head wouldn't turn over properly right now.
"Sweet-talk him good and bring the settlement down a little. That'd be better for you too, you know? Think how good we were to you, huh. Moving your parents' charnel house, that was all us, wasn't it?"
"…"
"And while you were gone, I went digging through the storage in the house, and there's like your family album and some piano thing?"
"What?"
Raon, who'd been half-listening and letting it wash over him, suddenly froze. As if he'd expected the reaction, the guy went on, snickering.
"There's this album with you and your folks all cozy and lovey-dovey. And kid stuff, a piano, an accordion? I found that, me!"
"A, an accordion, you mean the sky-blue one? The sky-blue accordion?"
"Yeah, yeah, think that's the one-."
No way.
An album.
An accordion.
Raon parted his lips blankly.
After his parents' funeral, the one who'd cleaned out the family home in his stead had been none other than his uncle.
At the time, between the funeral and exam prep all at once, he hadn't had the bandwidth to worry about that.
But that had been the worst mistake. Because his uncle had called in a company and thrown out every item in the house.
The memories of his childhood, and even the traces of his parents, every last bit of it.
Later, when he'd asked if there were any albums or things of his parents', all he'd gotten was nagging — why hold onto a dead person's belongings — so he'd never imagined they were in that house.
"Where is it. That stuff."
After the house had been cleared, nothing had come back to Raon. Even for photos, all he'd had was the ID-card picture used at the funeral.
And the accordion had been a birthday gift his parents bought him when he was little. He'd wanted it so badly that he'd given it the grand title of "Treasure No. 1" and cherished it.
Others might scoff at him for still keeping such an old piece of junk, but to Raon it was a precious treasure he wouldn't trade for anything in the world.
"Where is it, the stuff!"
Anxiety getting the better of him, Raon shouted out.
"Ahh, that? Now where'd I put it again."
Suddenly holding the upper hand, Mincheol dragged out his words. Just as Raon was about to press him again to spit it out, the guy spoke with a grin.
"Pay off the settlement and I'll tell you where it is."
"…"
Raon gripped the phone tight without realizing it.
Even sloshed, the instinct to strip someone bare for everything they had was clearly alive in him.
And as Raon stood there steeped in fury,
Zzzh, a translucent automatic door slid smoothly open.
"How much it is, I don't even know. You got the card from Mom and Dad, right?"
Not even noticing someone had come in, Raon bit down hard on his lower lip. Tuk-. The thin skin, unable to withstand the rage, split easily.
"You sort that out, I'll spill right away. Shame, huh."
"Kim Mincheol, you really-!"
In that instant the door slammed open with a bang.
Startled, Raon's hand reflexively flew open.
The phone inside it plunged with a plop into the toilet. The thoroughly drowned old-model phone soon went black.
But there wasn't even time to mind a thing like a phone. With a dumbstruck face, Raon looked up at the man standing before him.
Past the door whose latch hadn't caught properly stood a beanpole a good head taller than him.
The Chinese-character tattoo inked vividly on the right side of his neck. Features more dazzling than any celebrity's. An 8mm cigarette clamped between suitably plump lips.
Everything about him was wickedly, achingly familiar.
"I thought I'd seen wrong."
"…"
"It's really you, Lee Raon."
Gijo huffed a laugh.
"If you're gonna take a sh-t, lock the door properly, loser."
Taking a drag of his cigarette, he tilted his head at an angle.
"Came in to take a leak and damn, I almost wound up plowing our Raon's ass right here."
Or,
"You taking a sh-t early 'cause you knew I'd come? Prepping for getting your hole drilled?"
Raon slowly raked his eyes up and down the figure standing before him.
That the call with his cousin had cut off like this. That his phone was now unusable.
None of it mattered right now.
Ga Gijo.
Really.
It really was that Ga Gijo.
Raon let out a sharp breath. He rubbed his eyes hard and looked again, and it was still him.
He wasn't out of his mind, seeing things. The lunatic really was standing in front of him.
"Gijo-hyung…"
"Yeah, what is it, you brat?"
That distinctive languid voice crawled along the restroom floor. Throat gone bone-dry, Raon swallowed hard.
Why was he here? How had he suddenly barged into this restroom? Countless question marks flooded his brain.
His heart, recognizing the man, started pounding wildly of its own accord.
Closer to fear, tension, and dread than to joy or flutter.
"It's been a damn long time, our Raon. Guess you've made bank. Running into you here and all."
Chewing the cigarette in his mouth once, Gijo reached out a hand.
The long fingers grazed lightly over the nape of his neck, and Raon's body shuddered visibly.
Pressing his thumb firmly into the back of his neck, Gijo curled the corner of his mouth.
"Ah, not that you've made bank."
Don't tell me,
"You hustling? To make some quick cash?"
"!"
Aghast, Raon shook his head.
A hustle, of all things. He'd never done anything like that, and he'd only come here following a friend.
But ordinary circumstances like that were of no concern whatsoever to the guy.
"Then again, I'm the one who paved that whole highway of yours."
"…"
"A pencil dick wouldn't even register for you. Right?"
"…"
"Gotten a taste for the big stuff, so you'd have a hard time hustling that ass too, huh."
Raon's mind went distant now in a whole new way.
A pressure incomparable to Mincheol's threats over his parents' belongings bore down on his shoulders.
Zzzzh-.
Just then the man's pants pocket buzzed ominously.
Without taking his eyes off Raon, he answered the incoming call.
Raon dropped his gaze and clenched the sweat-beaded hand into a fist.
Maybe the guy had turned the volume down, because Raon couldn't make out what the other party was saying.
A short while later.
Letting out an irritated breath, Gijo hung up. Then he drew from his pocket a luxury wallet stamped with a bold brand logo.
Pulling out a check trailing a string of zeros, Gijo shoved it deep into the waistband of Raon's pants.
"Raon. Use this to buy yourself some snacks and a phone, yeah?"
So that,
"You can call me about the settlement."
"!"
Raon's body flinched reflexively. Had he heard the call? As if answering that very question, Gijo went on.
"My car, hm, wonder how much the repairs'll run."
When a similar accident had happened before,
"Think it came out to about sixty mil."
I don't run a charity, so.
"Can't knock it down any further."
He kindly kneaded one of the tense shoulders.
"If I weren't busy I'd have settled it right here."
"…"
"Today I'm a little swamped. Get some good rest and let's talk Monday. Yeah?"
Got it?
Having even helpfully proposed an alternative, Gijo turned to go. Watching the sight with a dazed face, Raon blinked his large eyes.
Zzzh-. Soon after came the sound of the automatic door.
A signal that Ga Gijo had left.
"…"
The instant he registered that the man was gone, his body crumpled straight down. Forgetting it was a restroom floor, Raon sank into a crouch and bowed his head.
A single check, wedged in the buckle of his pants, came into view.
"Heh…"
What just steamrolled past me?
They said when a person's too shocked, they can't think at all.
This was exactly that.
