PON 08

Chapter 8

Jeong-oh stopped just as she was about to turn away.

[……What?]

Her eyes trembled as she turned to look at him.
The man’s eyes — a strange blend of ash and gray — were fixed on her, carrying a faint, teasing smile.

[Jeong-oh is my savior. So I want to repay her in the best way I can.]

Her lips pressed together as if to swallow her own breath.
Though autumn was drawing near, her face burned as though summer still lingered.
Jeong-oh turned away, pretending not to hear him, and asked the shop owner for a few more pieces of clothing fit for wearing at home.

The shopkeeper, glancing suspiciously between the two, quickly gathered the clothes and handed over a mountain of shopping bags. The three left the shop together, arms full.

Cheong-seok clicked his tongue.
“Two hundred thousand won? You just blew two hundred thousand won on clothes? Damn, Jeong-oh, you’re gonna go broke.”

[I’m hungry.]

“You hungry?”

Miraculously understanding him, Cheong-seok’s face lit up.
“Wow, look at me! After just a few days talking with a foreigner, I’m basically fluent!”

Jeong-oh ignored his self-praise. He kept laughing anyway, and threw an arm around the man’s shoulder.
“So what do you wanna eat?”

The sight was ridiculous — Cheong-seok barely one-seventy, practically hanging off the man’s side.
The stranger thought for a moment, then his eyes lit up as he looked at Jeong-oh.

“Jajangmyeon.”

The pronunciation was startlingly perfect.
Even Jeong-oh, who was gathering the receipt, froze mid-motion.
Cheong-seok’s jaw dropped.

“What the—? How’s your Korean that perfect? How do you even know jajangmyeon?”

“I bought it for him once,” Jeong-oh muttered.

The man didn’t answer, already distracted by a stray cat that had wandered up. Kneeling down, he gently stroked its head, smiling softly as the cat nuzzled his hand.

Jeong-oh, watching that faint smile, said nothing.

“…What the hell is wrong with this guy?”

The man had devoured an entire bowl of jajangmyeon in seconds.
Not just that — he polished off a large plate of sweet-and-sour pork and a whole serving of fried dumplings.

When even that wasn’t enough, he stared at Jeong-oh like a starving puppy.
Reluctantly, she ordered him another bowl.

By the end, he had eaten two bowls of jajangmyeon, a large sweet-and-sour pork, fried dumplings, and a bowl of rice before finally putting down his spoon.

“You possessed or something?”

Cheong-seok whistled, rubbing his round stomach. He watched the man step out of the restaurant, looking absurdly refreshed with a mint candy between his teeth.

Jeong-oh paid the nearly 100,000-won bill with barely restrained fury.
“Seriously, how can anyone eat that much? You’ll empty my wallet at this rate.”

Her glare landed on Cheong-seok — the one responsible for bringing this man home in the first place.

Startled, he flinched and scurried over to the man, who was now eyeing a cone of soft-serve ice cream at a nearby stand.

[Jeong-oh, can I eat that?]

“Are you crazy? You’re not full yet? Ice cream too?”

[Jeong-oh… I really want ice cream. Please?]

She gave in with a sigh — at least when his mouth was full, he stayed quiet.
Even Cheong-seok, who had been scolding him, ended up with a chocolate cone in his mouth.

Jeong-oh could only sigh again.
She was about to drag the two toward the harbor when Cheong-seok suddenly pointed.

“Hey, who are those guys in black?”

But Jeong-oh wasn’t listening.
Her eyes were fixed on the man — he had already finished his ice cream and was now staring longingly at a chicken skewer stand.

Grabbing his sleeve, she hissed,

You’ve spent over 300,000 won today. This is officially over. No more. The ice cream was the last one.

The man looked at her with such wounded eyes that her chest tightened against her will.

Did I do something to deserve this in a past life?

It had to be that damned face — too beautiful, too innocent.
She wasn’t one for looks, yet something in that face always disarmed her.

She took a deep breath, firm again. “No. Absolutely not.”

He shrugged, surprisingly obedient, and followed without protest.

[Maybe… I used to eat a lot before I lost my memory. But I’m still hungry. Why is that?]

[‘A lot’? Try a ton.]

Cheong-seok suddenly tensed. “Come to think of it, Yoon-ho said there were guys in suits walking around town lately. Think that’s them— hey, why’re they looking at me like that? You wanna fight?”

He blustered but, by instinct, inched behind Jeong-oh — just like he had in grade school every time he got himself into trouble.

It was sweltering, and his clinging only made it worse. Her expression turned murderous.

“Will you get off me before I—”

“Yoon Jeong-oh?”

She froze.
The voice was familiar.

Turning slowly, she saw a tall man in a black suit — far too formal for the bustling market.

It was Baek-seok, her senior from college — the very man who had once sent her to America.

Her face hardened.
Sensing the tension, Cheong-seok blinked between them.
“You… know that guy?”

“Cheong-seok, take him over there and shove a chicken skewer in his mouth.”

“Uh… got it.”

Jeong-oh pushed the man toward Cheong-seok and stepped up to meet Baek-seok, who was nearly her height.

“Long time no see, Yoon Jeong-oh.”

“…Yeah. Long time. What are you doing here?”

“You think I came looking for you? I had work nearby. Didn’t expect to run into my missing junior after two years, though.”

He studied her quietly, then smiled.

“How about a cup of coffee, if you’ve got time?”

Baek-seok’s gaze lingered on her as they sat down.

“What are you staring at? Something funny?”

He laughed.
“Still the same temper, Jeong-oh.”

Then, softer, “I’d heard you were somewhere down south, but I didn’t know this was your hometown.”

Jeong-oh said nothing, fingers tightening around her glass.

“You were such an outsider back in school,” he went on. “When I tried to find you… no one even knew you. Not one friend. I only realized how alone you were after you disappeared.”

“…”

“Jeong-oh.”

She looked up. His face, usually composed, twisted with guilt.

‘Do you hate me? If I hadn’t taken you to America… if I hadn’t left you there alone… you wouldn’t have ended up like—’

“Is this what you call catching up over coffee?” she cut in sharply.

“I don’t hate you, sunbae.”

Hate him?
He hadn’t ruined her life.

She had simply wanted out — out of that miserable home where her father drowned in alcohol and gambling every night; out from under a mother who refused to divorce him; away from a grandmother who blamed her mother for everything.

Baek-seok had offered her a way out — a chance to go to America, to study, to start over.
Her mother’s only words had been:

“You’re not responsible for this family. Go. Live your life.”

She had left, pretending to be pushed.
But the truth was, no one had wanted that escape more than Jeong-oh herself.