“You must have been named after the lotus.”
Hayeop’s nostrils twitched. No one had ever realized that before. He had been born in summer, when the lotuses bloomed bright and clear, and that was why he had been named Hayeop.
“…Yes, that’s right.”
Everyone was too busy scraping together a living. Who would ever take an interest in his name? No one asked a weed what it was called.
“Did you know? When it rains, lotuses close their mouths tight…”
Hayeop’s toes curled. As he pressed his pale heels down, blood rushed to them, tinting them pink.
“But they love sunlight, so they bloom even more beautifully on clear days.”
“…I’m busy. I don’t have time to look at flowers.”
He hurriedly scrubbed the table with a dishcloth. I have to find a part-time job, find somewhere for Mom and me to live, finish setting the table, and secretly wash the bedding I hid….
“So you should hurry up and…”
At that moment, Yoonwon seized his wrist.
“Are you sure about that?”
The words he uttered with the sly smile of a fox cub were, as always, half a threat. The beauty mark in its maddeningly perfect place shifted as those lovely, bewitching lips spoke.
“If you raise your voice here, your mother will hear.”
His expression seemed to say, You dare defy me? All the strength drained from Hayeop’s body.
“What if someone comes?”
How was he supposed to leisurely admire flowers when he was hiding in someone else’s home?
“No one comes here.”
Yoonwon smiled as if to say Hayeop knew that as well. There was something dizzying about his smile.
“I’m starting to think I’ll forget what my father even looks like, and my mother hates being in this house.”
Hayeop set down the dishcloth. He no longer felt capable of refusing and let Yoonwon lead him toward the courtyard.
“The weather is incredible.”
Young Master opened the glass door. Pale sunlight descended like a veil and wrapped around his hair.
A great crape myrtle stood tall on one side, with a narrow stream burbling beneath it. The lotuses glowed red as they drank in the powdery sunlight with delight.
The house had supposedly been designed to embrace nature. The sky stretched overhead, while a pond lay beneath their feet.
Here, where summer had ripened to its fullest, the fragrance of grass drifted through the air.
“Come in.”
He held out his hand to Hayeop, beckoning him closer. The gentle breeze stirred Hayeop’s hair. He cautiously stepped inside.
“Put your feet in here.”
Yoonwon rolled up the hems of his pants first, then plunged his legs straight into the pond. Hayeop hesitated. Am I really allowed to do that? I’m only a rat living off this family. How could I possibly act so shamelessly?
“I think I’ll be scolded if we’re caught….”
“Then we just won’t get caught, will we?”
After saying it like some delinquent, Yoonwon patted the spot beside him. Left with no choice, Hayeop squatted down, tugged off his white socks, and dipped his feet into the cold water.
“Ah, it’s cold….”
He slid his legs in up to his calves. Fish gathered around his smooth white skin. A goldfish with a yellowish tail approached and nudged Hayeop’s foot.
“Careful. That one bites toes.”
“Liar.”
Even so, Hayeop curled his toes in wary concern.
“Scared?”
Young Master smiled faintly. His sophisticated features were so cold that he looked as though he might never smile, yet he smiled so generously. Hayeop stared at him, entranced. His heart began murmuring restlessly again. He felt as though his cheeks might turn red.
“Baby, want some ice cream?”
A large hand reached over and stroked the nape of Hayeop’s neck. His heart stopped of its own accord. Every hair on his body stood on end, as though even the finest down were screaming.
“…I’m not a child.”
“Liar. You’re a baby, so you like pink sausages.”
Yoonwon snickered and flicked a finger against his cheek.
“I’m not a baby. I’m twenty.”
“Yes, what a grand old age.”
The mockery made irritation flare inside Hayeop.
“I only picked up the pink sausage because throwing it away would be wasteful. There are still so many people going hungry. You probably wouldn’t understand because you’re rich, Young Master.”
Yoonwon scooped up a pink flower petal floating on the pond with his large hand and pressed it to Hayeop’s cheek.
“What do you mean, I wouldn’t understand? Why do you keep talking back to your big brother?”
You’re only two years older than me.
A gust of wind swept past, making the pink crape myrtle sway and scatter sunlight over them.
“Are you completely better now?”
“Yeah.”
Yoonwon’s face looked so relieved, refreshed, and carefree that Hayeop couldn’t help feeling hurt. He truly didn’t seem to remember a thing. Clutching at his own restlessly stirring heart, Hayeop stared down at the rippling water.
Hey, you clueless goldfish. You might as well bite this miserable heart out of my chest instead.
“Were you worried about me?”
Their fingers hovered on the verge of touching. Whenever Hayeop edged away, the large hand followed him unerringly, like a spider homing in on its web. Was Yoonwon doing it deliberately, or did he genuinely have no idea?
Hayeop found himself strange, too, sitting here beside Young Master when he wanted to run away. Only recently, he had sworn never to become entangled with him again.
“They say even dogs don’t catch colds in summer.”
“Are you calling me a dog?”
“……”
“You’re not answering.”
Yoonwon gave him a look that said, Well, look at you, and the tightness in Hayeop’s chest eased into something almost cheerful. Yes, I can’t lie to myself. Maybe I actually like being here with him.
“Did you know?”
“Know what?”
Hayeop’s lips parted.
He wanted to tell Yoonwon that if he came down with a feverish cold, eating spicy squid and radish soup with plenty of chili powder would soothe his ticklish throat and clear his nose right up. Hayeop hoped he would never fall ill again, but if he did, he wanted to promise that he would make it for him.
“For a feverish cold, spicy squid and radish soup with…”
Just then, a sound shattered the moment. Riiing. The shrill ringing of the telephone filled their ears.
“……”
“……”
Silence settled between them. Yoonwon was the first to scowl. The air that had been smooth as silk was instantly smashed to mush like a bowl of acorn jelly.
“You should hurry and answer it, Young Master.”
Yoonwon looked at Hayeop. Hayeop couldn’t make sense of his gaze at all.
“The women kept asking for you. It might be urgent.”
Hayeop managed an awkward smile. Yoonwon held his gaze for a moment before turning away. He picked up the receiver in one large hand.
“Hana.”
Hana. Hayeop. Every name that left his mouth sounded as sweet as ice cream in midsummer. For some reason, Hayeop didn’t like that very much. The corners of his mouth drooped.
“You’re the one who said you hated possessive men.”
His voice was mercilessly cold. When they were alone, he teased Hayeop and tormented him like a mischievous boy, yet now he wore the exasperated expression of a man weary of romantic games.
“I thought you and I could have a cooler kind of relationship.”
He looked like a grown man now.
“Why are you acting so unsophisticated?”
He told her to stop, his suppressed emotions evident in every word. Hayeop wanted to argue on behalf of Hana, a woman whose face he had never even seen. You can’t control love. How can anyone stay cool and sophisticated all the time? When you love someone, of course you want to spend time with them.
Hayeop disliked the sophistication people valued these days. Everyone seemed to think being flexible, playful, and slippery was cool and impressive, but that only meant never taking responsibility for anything.
Eventually, another thought occurred to him.
Could it be that Young Master doesn’t believe in love?
I don’t know. It’s too difficult.
Hayeop ran a finger over his lips. It had only been one kiss. A memory the other person could not even recall, one that would disappear forever if Hayeop alone forgot it.
Somehow, he had fallen into a melancholy mood. What was this unpleasant, stale feeling? It was like opening a bottle of cola and forgetting to plug the mouth with tissue. All the fizz would escape.
“Where did you go? Why did it take so long?”
When Hayeop returned to their room, his mother was doing cross-stitch. She said she had been terrified they might have been discovered, and Hayeop gave her a clumsy smile.
“I went… to look at the flowers.”
“The flowers?”
“Yes. The lotuses.”
“They must be blooming beautifully now that it’s summer.”
Hayeop smiled softly so she would not worry.
“There’s a flower petal on your cheek.”
His mother plucked it off. Hayeop thought it must be the one Young Master had pressed there. Well, the flower had done nothing wrong.
He carefully covered the delicate petal with Scotch tape and made it into a bookmark. It was unsophisticated, crude, and hopelessly old-fashioned—but that was simply who he was.
The bookmark cradling the petal looked pink, prim, and pretty.