Hong Seon-woong and Kim Dan-woo (2)
I decided to go find Kim Dan-woo. If this had been only Hong Seon-woong’s doing, it would have been simple enough.
I would have assumed he’d made a bad decision because of a slump.
I’d have pressured him until he gave up on publishing the book. I had a certain affection for the company, after all.
If we published a book like that, it would be a disgrace to the house. And besides... I didn’t especially want to drive Hong Seon-woong all the way to the cliff’s edge.
It was common knowledge that he was taking care of my father.
At any rate, gratitude was gratitude. But Kim Dan-woo was involved?
Then I needed to approach this carefully.
The Kim Dan-woo I knew wasn’t that kind of person.
There had to be something more complicated going on. The problem was that I didn’t know his number or his address.
There was only one thing I could guess.
He was still writing fiction steadily.
Otherwise a novel like The Fisherman’s Blade would never have existed. The moment I got to work, I went looking for Senior Yang.
He was our team’s greatest gossip and the ultimate social butterfly. “Senior. Could I ask you for a favor?”
“What is it?”
“I’m trying to track down someone I know. I think he submitted something to our open submissions, so I was wondering if there’s any way to find his personal information.”
“That’d be a violation of the Personal Information Protection Act, idiot. The records team would never leak it.”
“...”
“But I can. Come with me.” As expected, the senior came through when it mattered. I followed Senior Yang to the Records Management Team in Administration.
He exchanged a few laughs with an employee there—apparently a classmate from the same hiring cycle.
A moment later, the employee slid over toward me. “Who are you looking for?”
Incredible. Was it really going to be this easy?
You really couldn’t underestimate a gossip monger. “A man named Kim Dan-woo.”
“We keep personal information for three months before disposal. I’ll pull up the open-submission data.” The employee searched Kim Dan-woo in the internal program.
Before long, one record appeared on the monitor. [Kim Dan-woo // Fiction // 010-XXXX-XXXX // Noryangjin-dong, Dongjak-gu, Seoul (...) ]
─┼
At the bustling Noryangjin Fish Market, Kim Dan-woo was trimming fish with a butcher knife.
“Today’s flatfish—absolutely cheap—! Come take a look—! Flatfish! We’ve got flatfish here—!” A foot entered his field of vision.
Kim Dan-woo smiled brightly and pulled off his gloves. “Welcome, my— Hyunsun?”
Mok Hyunsun, both hands shoved deep in the pockets of his coat, was staring at Kim Dan-woo with a complicated expression.
Some time later, the two of us were seated across from each other in a franchise café. “Wow— how long has it been? How’d you know I was here and come find me? Ah, I heard you got into Gyeongseong Publishing. They say it’s really hard to get in there, so congratulations.”
“You look well, hyung.”
“Uh... do I? Haha, I’m just making ends meet.”
“If you make an honest living and keep yourself fed, then you’re doing well.” Honesty.
At those words, Kim Dan-woo felt a faint prickle of conscience.
Mok Hyunsun leaned forward over the table. “The Fisherman’s Blade.”
“!!!”
“You wrote it, didn’t you?”
“N-no. What are you talking about? Seon-woong wrote that. Ah— is it because the story’s about a fish shop? I only explained the detailed parts. What’s the point of friendship if not helping each other out? I helped with all that.” His words had run long.
Unnaturally long.
“Hyung.” Kim Dan-woo flinched. Mok Hyunsun seemed heavier somehow than he had before.
A person certain of his own abilities.
That kind of weight belonged only to someone like that. Kim Dan-woo knew he needed to steel himself.
If the story with Hong Seon-woong came out, many people would be disappointed.
Especially Teacher Mok Pilhyun. ...I don’t know how he found out, but he’ll definitely denounce me. Or try to persuade me. I need to deny it to the end. But then Mok Hyunsun’s mouth produced something completely unexpected. “I’ve been trying my hand at criticism lately.”
“...Huh?”
“If I were to write about The Fisherman’s Blade, I’d start like this.”
“...”
“Everyone praises the beauty of romance, but reality is always far more intense.” Kim Dan-woo swallowed. What on earth was that sentence?
It felt like it was driving straight into his chest.
“The world Kim Dan-woo created is a reality more real than reality itself. The boy is not given the chance to grow there. He is born already an adult, and the life of the boy as Kim Dan-woo sees it is the life of someone who only endures the passing of years in order to grow old. Then can growth or romance coexist in Kim Dan-woo’s literary world? They cannot. Because his literary world is far more mature than such naive language. And furthermore...” Each sentence pierced him through the lungs.
The criticism was objectively clear, and emotionally it had the power to shake a person’s heart. That was why he couldn’t ask him to stop.
How was he supposed to stop someone from praising his own child, The Fisherman’s Blade, like that?
Kim Dan-woo was beginning to understand.
The subject of that criticism.
It was simply this: only Kim Dan-woo could have written The Fisherman’s Blade. Mok Hyunsun was reciting that long criticism as if he’d memorized every single syllable without faltering.
Before that wave of language, Kim Dan-woo felt something like helplessness.
“...So? Is that how it sounds to you, hyung?”
“You... what exactly are you? Why are you suddenly showing up like this...”
Kim Dan-woo wasn’t shameless enough to keep denying it any longer.
And that, in the end, was why Mok Hyunsun had come to see him first. “I came because I couldn’t believe it either. That hyung would sell his novel.”
“I didn’t sell it!” Kim Dan-woo blurted out in a flash of anger.
And immediately regretted it.
It was practically the same as admitting fault. “Haah... I really am getting taken apart by you.”
“I’m ready to listen. I’m not here to accuse you, so don’t worry and just tell me the truth.”
“...I didn’t want this either.” And then Kim Dan-woo told me the story of the past several years. Hong Seon-woong had indeed debuted on his own talent.
But as the inspiration slowly dried up,
he grew impatient and started stealing Kim Dan-woo’s novels. “As his inspiration faded, Seon-woong really changed. He’d vent his stress by talking down to aspiring writers who looked promising,”
“Talking down to them?”
“Yes. Once he was awful to an aspiring writer who worked at a factory. I was so shocked when I heard about it secondhand.”
At that moment, someone flashed through Mok Hyunsun’s mind.
Could it be? “Choi Bak?”
“Huh? How did you know?”
“Just a feeling.” Mok Hyunsun gulped down his iced coffee. That bastard really has become a piece of trash. “Hah... but don’t hate Seon-woong too much. You know he’s taking care of Teacher, right?”
“I know.”
“Then you’ve probably kept in touch with Seon-woong from time to time.”
“No. I haven’t heard from him since I left home.”
“What? Teacher said he asked about you through Seon-woong several times. I naturally thought he’d contacted you.”
“My father did? No way.” Mok Hyunsun gave a short, humorless laugh. “He’s the kind of man who didn’t even look at me when my mother died. There’s no way he was looking out for me.”
“Hyunsun, you...” Only then did Kim Dan-woo realize how badly the whole thing had gone wrong. “That crazy bastard Hong Seon-woong... he didn’t tell you anything? Teacher took care of your mother the whole time, all the way until just before she passed. Unfortunately, he wasn’t there for the very end.” Mok Hyunsun said nothing, only blinked slowly.
“I don’t understand. Why would a guy who acts like a foster son keep Teacher’s eyes and ears—”
“My father had a lot of connections.”
“Huh?”
“In Korea, he’s an honorary director for every association under the sun, and in the U.S. he’s been listed as some committee member or other because of all the awards he’s won? He’d also have all kinds of recommendation rights for writers and critics. If you managed to butter him up properly, what a useful backer he’d be.”
“...”
“That’s what he wanted. Hong Seon-woong. Not because he was worried about Father.” Mok Hyunsun spoke as if discussing someone else’s affair. “In any case, hyung. If you want to back out, now’s the time. Once the book comes out, I’ll expose this by whatever means I have to.”
“...I don’t have any evidence, Hyunsun. I don’t have the courage to testify either.”
“That’s why I said by whatever means I have to. The Boy, Tomorrow book concert is in four days. Think it over carefully until then and get in touch.” Mok Hyunsun left his business card behind and stood up in one swift motion.
Kim Dan-woo asked urgently, “Why are you going this far?” That stopped Mok Hyunsun in his tracks.
“What are you getting out of this? I don’t think you’re after what Hong Seon-woong is after.”
“...”
“Are you worried about Teacher?”
“No, I’m not.” Mok Hyunsun walked straight out of the café.
Outside, darkness had already fallen thickly over the street. “Worried? As if.” He muttered the words like he was spitting something bitter out of his mouth,
then finally stopped dead.
“...He took care of him? That man? My father?” If he’d heard it from the man himself, it would have sounded laughable.
Trying to buy off a lifetime of neglect with one season of nursing care?
But hearing it from someone else felt different.
Because it meant he had not bothered to offer any excuse, even though he could have.
It sounded as though he was willing to pay for his sins, at the very least. Something in my chest gave a hard little jolt.
And with the weight of that jolt, my feelings toward Hong Seon-woong changed.
I wanted to push him off the cliff.
Was I really this soft-hearted of a person? Angry enough over the fact that my father had been wronged by Hong Seon-woong to want to do something about it? If you want to back out, now’s the time. I had to turn that line back on myself now.
If I didn’t step away now,
I might end up entangled with the father I hated so much all over again. “...” I was somewhat confused.
But I knew what to trust in moments like this. Not reason, but sensation.
What felt necessary.
First, I needed to fix what was wrong.
I couldn’t expect testimony from Kim Dan-woo, and the answer was to go straight through the front door. I took out a business card from my wallet.
The business card of Team Leader Kim from the Korean Literature Department.
Team Leader Kim answered the phone right away.
After a brief exchange of pleasantries, I went straight to the point. “Team Leader. I think I can handle author Hong Seon-woong’s book concert.”
─┼
On the day of the book concert.
Hong Seon-woong had been trying on one outfit after another since morning. He’d slept in the guest room at Teacher’s house the night before.
He always did that before a big event.
For some reason, it felt like he could pick up good fortune there.
Mok Hyunsun being in charge is a little concerning. I should tell Teacher about Mok Hyunsun sometime soon. Hmph.
Knock, knock. The door opened and Mok Pilhyun came in. “Wear this. Someone gave it to me, but it’s too bright for me.”
“Teacher.”
He laid a blue necktie on the bed and left.
The man who had never shown the slightest interest in a disciple’s event,
that cold, barren man, had given him this?
Hong Seon-woong smiled to himself.
He tied the necktie on with visible delight. I could probably bring up Mok Hyunsun now. He’s practically already in my pocket. Teacher Mok Pilhyun had grown old, and his heart had softened too.
Soon enough, he’d use his influence for the disciple who had stayed by his side.
If he played his cards right, he might even make it overseas. No matter what anyone said about his mother,
how foolish was Mok Hyunsun to cut ties with such a useful father?
“Mok Hyunsun really is an idiot.” Hong Seon-woong left the mansion in high spirits, wearing his new tie. The mansion stood empty.
Deep inside it, in the workroom at the very heart of the house,
Mok Pilhyun was seated at his old wooden desk as always. Scratch, scratch.... With a pencil on manuscript paper, he wrote this down. Why is it that emotion refuses to become words?
Giving a tie to a disciple was already unusual enough.
A gentle way of saying, do well and come back safe.
The kind of words he was a man who would never be able to say, even if he died trying. And the greatest victim of that had been his family. It had taken far too long to realize it.
Only after his wife fell ill did regret come crashing in,
and by then his only son had already left.
He could have made excuses.
He’d only stepped away for one day, and even then because his wife had urged him to. Go on and write. It’s fine. You said your important deadline was tomorrow. He shouldn’t have trusted that kind, smiling face.
As if fate were playing a joke, disaster had struck that very day. He couldn’t even bring himself to make excuses to Hyunsun.
What face did he have to attach reasons to it now?
Rustle. He pulled a stack of manuscript paper from the drawer.
A work he had been writing for a long time, yet could not bring himself to show the world. Face.
It’ll probably only be a story I can show after I’m dead. With a bitter expression, he read through the novel again.
No matter how many times he revised it, it never satisfied him.
That was often the way when one put too much of oneself into something.
Then it happened. Ding-dong. Of all times. When no one is even working. Ding-dong.
With no other choice, he had to move himself.
He went out through the front door, crossed the yard, and opened the gate. “!”
Standing there was someone he had never expected to see.