with them. And he wanted to be alone right now.
The next text was from Detective Hae: Stay out of trouble. Call me if you get sick.
Jihoon smiled at the message: Be good, be healthy.
A minute later, Somin’s follow-up message arrived: There’s soup in your fridge. Eat it or you’re dead meat.
He laughed. Somin 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,” Hwang 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.” Hwang Halmeoni frowned.
“I’ll recover.”
“Why isn’t that policeman with you? He’s handsome.”
“Hwang 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.”
“Changwanie?” 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 halmeoni’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 halmeoni’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 halmeoni’s, her favorite pair of worn black work shoes.
Though it had only been a month, it felt like the space missed Halmeoni’s presence as much as Jihoon did. Nothing had been moved but everything felt a little duller. He almost expected to see Dubu come running down the hall, barking her happy greeting. She was better off at Somin’s, where she’d get daily attention. Jihoon spent more nights in Halmeoni’s hospital room than in the apartment.
“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 Junu.” 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?” Junu 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?” Junu 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 dokkaebi.” Junu gave a shrug.
Jihoon jerked back. He stared at Junu with a more critical eye. Dokkaebi were supposed to be as ugly as sin, like the beast he’d seen in the woods. There was nothing similar between that rutting goblin and the beautiful boy that sat in front of him now.
“Why would a dokkaebi be in my house?” Jihoon’s eyes darted around, looking for a good weapon.
“Why do you think?” A smile quirked at Junu’s lips like he was asking a riddle.
“Yena?”
“Ddaeng!” Junu sounded