Hide-and-Seek with a Friend
"One more bowl of jajangmyeon over here!"
Lee Ho-young had left his Mercedes keys—and I'd left my bag—at the Chinese restaurant, so we had doubled back. When I'd told Bang Seonghyun to order whatever he wanted, all he'd asked for was a single bowl of jajangmyeon.
At that age, your stomach was always growling the moment you turned around, wasn't it?
"And a large plate of sweet and sour pork, too."
When I ordered the tangsuyuk, Seonghyun hesitated, visibly uncomfortable.
"I-I can't eat that much."
"You might be starting training again. You need to eat big if you want to build up your strength."
"He's right!"
Ho-young threw his hand up and shouted after the waitress who was leaving the private room.
"Kkanpunggi and pan-fried dumplings too, please! I've suddenly worked up an appetite myself."
"The dumplings will be on the house, sir."
Having somehow become VIPs at Jageumseong, we filled ourselves on fresh-fried sweet and sour pork, kkanpunggi, and the complimentary dumplings, chatting away the whole time.
Last time I'd only exchanged a brief greeting with Seonghyun, so I hadn't really gotten a read on him, but talking with him now made things clear.
He's got wit and a great sense of humor.
He was bright and cheerful by nature. He told the story of how he'd knocked down opponents with his kicks at tournament after tournament, always wearing a smile—told it well, too.
Then Ho-young stepped out to take a phone call, and I found my eyes kept snagging on Seonghyun's worn school uniform. I asked him carefully.
"Your mother hasn't said anything about buying you a new uniform?"
"She'll probably have to wait until the weekend. We don't have a car."
"Your dad has one, doesn't he?"
"He drove off to work before dawn. My uncle got him a job picking tomatoes at a greenhouse in the next village over. He drove me to school today, too."
In the countryside, public transportation was practically meaningless. Twice a day, and that was it—one bus that passed in front of the community hall and went to and from the township center. That was the entire public transit system. Even that only ran around lunchtime and early evening. Students catching that bus to school was out of the question.
"And my little sister's been sick. That's why Mom had to keep closing the restaurant when she ran one."
"She's sick? What's wrong with her?"
"It's not her body that's the problem..."
A shadow fell over Seonghyun's face, which until now had been beaming without pause.
"She does strange things sometimes... mutters to herself, gets lost. And then she doesn't remember any of it."
So the elementary school ghost I saw must be attached to Seonghyun's sister, Bang Seongeun.
Could that be why the restaurant went under?
Bang Jeongsoo and Han Mija were both honest, hardworking people. Jeongsoo seemed a world away from drinking and carousing, and Mija was thrifty to boot. And yet everything they touched fell apart, until they'd lost it all so completely they didn't even have a roof over their heads. Surely the pranks of a ghost were among the reasons.
Ever since my Yeongan had awakened, all sorts of thoughts came to me. The idea even crossed my mind—what if the couple had incurred some grudge in the past, and the ghost's vengeance was falling on them now?
"You must worry a lot. School should be out for your sister around now—how does she get home?"
"She can't go to school. Hasn't been able to for a while now. So I can't afford to be a screwup too."
Seonghyun deftly scooped the remaining onion and sauce out of the jajangmyeon bowl, chewed it all down, and flashed a grin.
"Don't worry about us. Our family's been through worse than this."
"Right. Once your sister lives in our village for a while, she'll get better soon."
Because I was going to find a way to drive that ghost out.
Hide and seek, one-two-three, whoever's found will have to see!
The moment her mother left the house to bring Grandma Mak-sun her meal, Seonghyun's little sister Bang Seongeun was playing hide-and-seek.
"Ready or not, here I come!"
Her eyes snapping open, Seongeun became the seeker, combing the house for the friend who had hidden away.
"There! I see you!"
She ran toward the house where the child was hiding and stepped boldly through the gate.
"Huh? I'm sure I saw you come in here!"
An elementary schooler in a pink T-shirt and navy pants. When the man upstairs had asked if she'd seen the child, she'd said no—that was Songji.
I told the man I didn't know where Songji was because Songji's shy.
The first time Seongeun had mentioned Songji to her mother, Songji had vanished for a long while afterward, refusing to appear. Had the girl left for good? Seongeun remembered how worried she'd been.
After that, Seongeun never told anyone about her secret friend again.
Because if I lose Songji too, I won't have any friends at all.
Her one and only friend, Songji, was so shy that she hid whenever people were around.
Was that why?
Of all the games they could play, Songji loved hide-and-seek the most—and she was the best at it. When she hid properly, there was no finding her at all, and more than once Seongeun had been afraid that Songji might simply disappear like that, for good.
"Songji! Songji!"
When Songji disappeared without a trace yet again, Seongeun called out her name.
"Who's there?"
The creaking door opened and an old man stepped out onto the wooden porch.
"Oh, hello."
"Ah, you're the village chief's niece. He said you were younger than his youngest granddaughter, and he wasn't kidding, was he? Haha. What brings you here?"
"Um, well... we were playing hide-and-seek, and my friend ran in here, so—ah!"
I shouldn't have said anything. Songji won't like it.
"A friend?"
"My friend is a c-cat."
"A cat? Already friends with the cat young Yunho keeps? Haha. Kids make friends fast, don't they."
The old man told her to wait a moment, then came back out from the inner room carrying a basket of steamed sweet potatoes and roasted chestnuts.
"Take these and share them with your mother. I meant to stop by since you'd moved in, but I've had a chicken coop to build."
"A chicken coop?"
"That's right. Look over there. This old grandpa built it himself."
Where the yard gave way to the garden plot, chickens were pecking at their feed.
"Wow, that's a lot of chickens!"
Seongeun humored the old man with suitable exclamations while her eyes flicked discreetly around the house.
There! I see you!
The door of the main room's wardrobe was open just a crack, and Songji was peeking out.
Found you! It's your turn to be seeker next.
When Seongeun mouthed the words, Songji gave a little snort of laughter and shut the wardrobe door.
Hey!
Cheater, that's what that is.
"Your mother will be worried. Run along home now."
Startled out of her wits by the old man's words, Seongeun belatedly realized where she was standing—up on his porch.
Without even knowing it, she had climbed onto the wooden floor of his house with her shoes still on.
"I'm sorry. I'll be going now."
As Seongeun bolted off in a flash, Grandpa Hosik tilted his head, puzzled.
"That kid seems to have her head in the clouds, doesn't she? Does her mother know?"
From the look of it, she didn't go to school either, and even though she spent all day alone at home, she'd been chattering and laughing away as if she were having a conversation with someone.
"Is it just how kids are these days? I'll never understand it."
Since he was out in the yard anyway, Grandpa Hosik decided to pick out a chicken to give Kim Yunho and set to work with busy hands.
"Well then, since we've finished eating, shall we head out?"
Back from his phone call, Ho-young began laying it on thick for Seonghyun, promising to buy him a phone.
"We'll get you the latest model, plus a bag and shoes. Your mother said she'd handle the uniform, so this hyung here will just spring for your taekwondo studio fees and call it a day."
"Excuse me? You'd do all of that for me?"
Seonghyun was apparently wondering whether this man had lost his mind. But Ho-young just chuckled, saying it cost him nothing at all, and looked at me.
"You see, I have to be good to you if I want to score points with our Sunbae-nim here."
"Why are you dragging me into this?"
"Haha. Can't say he's wrong, can you?"
Ho-young leaned in and whispered at my ear.
"That was Mr. Moon Sung-il on the phone. He's in a complete panic, begging for help. You'll help him, won't you?"
"...Let's buy Seonghyun his phone and everything else first, and then finish that conversation."
"Seonghyun, did you hear that? Our Sunbae-nim says I should be good to you."
At Ho-young's antics, Seonghyun snickered, then turned to me.
"Can I really accept the gifts?"
"Of course you can! And don't feel the least bit burdened. It sounds like this CEO here has something on his mind he wants to ask me for."
"Haha, exactly right!"
There was no shop in the township that sold the latest phone models, so we had to drive to Pyeongcheong, where the county office was. After pressing a bundle of presents into Seonghyun's arms, Ho-young put him in a taxi and gave him a wave.
"Text me often. That way I can keep tabs on how my sponsored taekwondo hopeful is doing."
"Th-thank you so much."
"Right, take care."
Only after the taxi carrying Seonghyun had disappeared from view did Ho-young's expression change.
"Sunbae-nim, you will help, right? Mr. Moon Sung-il says he's so terrified he can't go on living like this, and he's talking about tracking down some famous shamaness and holding a gut ritual."
"If he picks the wrong shaman, he'll only draw more wandering spirits to him."
"Exactly, so please, I'm begging you."
If I'd believed Ho-young was nothing but a self-serving golden-spoon type, I'd have refused him flat out—so what if I had? But watching him reach out to Seonghyun with genuine warmth, the bars around my heart came undone before I knew it.
"Could you explain the dagger to me in a little more detail? I need a clearer picture before I can decide how to solve the problem."
"Of course. Gladly."
We moved to a coffee shop near the county office. Sipping our orders, Ho-young began.
"While developing the new-town housing site, they were pushing a hillside back with excavators to secure land for a road—and a coffin came out of the earth."
"Where?"
"The Wangsuk district of Namyangju."
"Wangsuk..."
Ho-young continued his explanation.
"A Joseon-era mummy came out of the coffin, and among the grave goods was a Japanese dagger. Since the mummy and all the other grave goods would become historical material, they were surrendered to the state—but the Japanese dagger was set aside separately."
"Why?"
"Where exactly would you put a Japanese dagger on display, recovered from the body of what's believed to be a noncombatant, and dating from the later stages of the Imjin War?"
It didn't belong to one of our own generals, nor was it a noblewoman's silver knife. Displaying a Japanese dagger in a state-run museum meant nothing. As a private collector's piece, though, its value was enormous.
"Japanese blades differ in shape and composition depending on the era, and the dagger unearthed this time has real rarity value."
Before the Imjin War came the age of the kotō—the old swords: heavy, thick blades forged for battle. But having gone through the war itself, swordsmiths began calling their work shintō—new swords—and poured their hearts into ornamentation and the outward marks of rank and status.
The dagger found this time was made in that transitional moment, between old sword and new. It was around then that blades started receiving truly elaborate craftsmanship—and the dagger in question was, by all accounts, breathtakingly beautiful.
"Um, but..."
When I'd first heard Moon Sung-il and Ho-young talking, the exact same question had occurred to me as well.
"Why is everyone so certain it's a Joseon man's grave?"
At my question, Ho-young blinked in surprise.
"Sorry? Well—that's because the mummy's clothing and hairstyle are all Joseon, isn't it?"
"No, did anyone actually ask? You said a woman keeps appearing and muttering to herself. Did anyone ask her? 'You're Japanese, aren't you'?"