Chapter 17
Chapter 17
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: The Wind Blows (2)
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Choi Mi-kyeong, who had glared with eyes narrowed as if ready to curse him out, went pale right along with Jin-hyuk's suddenly ashen face. She grumbled inwardly that he was an old soul, but he was her childhood friend, after all. Son Jin-hyuk had always looked after her more like a real big brother than her own, without them ever fighting once.
"Why! What's wrong! Hey! Yuk Seong-chan! You punk, get over here. What'd you say to Jin-hyuk?"
"N-No! It ain't like that!"
"What's not like that! You gonna tell me or what?"
"I said no! Back off, it ain't your business!"
It was right at a fork in the road. Yuk Seong-chan shoved his bike along the path leading deeper into the village and bolted quick. He could've just hopped on and ridden, but he was probably scared of getting nabbed the second he did.
From inside Yuk Seong-chan's bag, a spoon rattled around in his empty lunchbox. Even on a day with no afternoon classes, he'd packed a lunch and somehow always forgot to eat it. That hollow clatter echoed long across the empty field, draping a shadow over Jin-hyuk's heart too.
Choi Mi-kyeong eyed Jin-hyuk's face with worry.
"Jin-hyuk-ah, what's going on?"
You don't need to know.
Listen to Seong-chan. Ain't nothin' good comin' from knowin'...
Jin-hyuk trudged on in silence. His throat ached, so he pulled up his collar.
"Jin-hyuk-ahhh, what is it? Huh? I'm dyin' of curiosity here."
Kids, beat it.
You wouldn't get a guy's heart.
After breakfast, he hoisted Yu-jin onto his shoulders.
Babies are supposed to be scared of heights, but Yu-jin sure loved riding piggyback. Maybe 'cause she likes her oppa that much.
"Kyahaha-."
Smack-smack!
Excited Yu-jin whacked his head wildly with her palms, but Jin-hyuk didn't mind a bit. He just figured that's how hard baby hands hit. Bumps and scrapes happen in life. You grow through the pain, right? What an angelic little sister, helping her oppa toughen up.
Hit away! This oppa's built sturdy!
His parents sipping tea on the living room sofa seemed kinda suspicious, though.
Chatting all rustle-rustle like grasshoppers munching leaves. They usually talked clear as day. Even maxing out his focus and ears, all he caught was the rustling. Had they turned herbivore or something?
"Jin-hyuk-ah."
Dad's gentle voice.
Mom just held her teacup to her lips and shot him a sly glance. Her eyes crinkled a bit, so she didn't seem mad. But what was this chill? The boiler was roaring hot, yet a cold draft seeped into his chest.
Maybe it was that thing Seong-chan mentioned.
"Wanna go grab some pork cutlet for lunch with Dad?"
Thud-!
His heart plummeted. Oh god, here it comes.
If this were his first go-around at life, he'd have been thrilled at the thought of cruising in the shiny new luxury sedan to the township restaurant for some Western-style pork cutlet. He'd scribble about it in his diary and brag to his friends.
But fat chance. Son Jin-hyuk wasn't some pushover twelve-year-old.
What now?
Mom and Dad's kind faces hadn't changed.
Still felt ice-cold. Like a dagger straight to the chest.
He gently lowered Yu-jin to the floor.
"Ahbuhbuh- Oppa! Up! Go!"
Yu-jin rolled her big eyes and stretched out both arms. Her butt wiggled as she bounced around. Watching her flail to stay with her oppa tore at Jin-hyuk's heart. He bit his lip.
Sorry, Yu-jin-ah. Timing's all wrong right now.
He moonwalked backward toward the entryway. Michael Jackson would've been proud. He felt a slipper snag his toes. Nah, don't rush.
Groping again, his big toe hooked a sneaker. Perfect.
I hate pork cutlet, I hate pork cutlet.
Tasty sure, but I hate it anyway.
He rehearsed lines endlessly in his boiling, muddled head.
Dad looked baffled.
"Where you off to, Jin-hyuk? Pork cut-."
"I don't wanna get peeled!"
First act of defiance.
Call it hormones calling the shots.
He bolted out before Dad could grab him, and waiting General dashed after. General was the best, for sure.
"Let's go! General!"
To freedom! Not some desperate flight!
He charged up the hill with gusto. Arms and legs pumping, he carved a cool winter-wind sentiment deep in his chest. Must've been fallout from that sudden burst of sensitivity over summer break. Oh ho! Now he got poets' vibes. Pouring out verses from hearts this raw and boiling—that's how the classics got made.
Title: Pork Cutlet Class 5-1, No. 15 Son Jin-hyuk
I wash every day No need to peel Leave it be and it peels itself Always has No use for it anyway Short-sleeve past eighty—what's with the whale hunt Dad just don't get my heart
Whoosh-.
Sea breeze, reservoir wind, mountain gusts, wind whipping empty fields.
For Jin-hyuk, who ran daily, wind was no hurdle. More like it aided his breath and gave wings to his thoughts.
Achoo!
Winter bit chilly, but manageable.
Of course—he couldn't trade one plate of pork cutlet for the freedom to run. Plus, embarrassing. Waddling around? Mom'd crack up. Lee Hae-won and Kim Eun-jeong'd tease for a peek. Choi Mi-kyeong, being childhood friend, might demand two looks. Nosy bunch. Hope Seong-chan got peeled okay? Hurt bad?
Class went nuts when Kang Jin-su got it...
Early last year, right?
Jin-hyuk shook his head, eyes squeezed shut, recalling the class kids mobbing Kang Jin-su.
Class of thirty, twenty-four girls. One boy transferred out, a girl came in—boom.
Getting peeled's the real nightmare...
They'd pull some weird fairness logic: Jin-su showed, so you gotta.
Whiiiine-. General let out a pitiful yowl.
Dogs get cold too, but Jin-hyuk toughed it out. Good thing he'd bundled up. Butt was freezing, though—time to wrap up meditating.
As he brushed off his rear and stood...
Jin-hyukaaaaaa-.
Echo. Mom's voice.
The echo yanked up memories of age nine, that new moon night by the sea.
Ah, Mom... our Mom.
Throat clogged up. Chest heaved.
They were that precious. Maybe just play along once?
He slouched along his usual running path, hands jammed deep in pockets. Was fate this brutal to a lonely winter boy?
A wind blew through the heart of Jin-hyuk, teetering from kid to teen.
Just grit teeth, drop trou once.
Death row inmate vibes.
Homeowners held the power, huh. In summer he'd have held out forever. Ah, so that's why winter? All that infection talk, but maybe a ploy to cut down runaways.
Meditation was worthless against worries colder than starlight.
His steps dragged heavy toward home.
"Hahahahahahaha!"
"Oh my oh my! Hohohohoho!"
His parents laughed till tears streamed.
Jin-hyuk was dead serious—wasn't this overkill? Trying to hurt his feelings.
"Ha, you rascal. We just wanted to treat you to hot pork cutlet—you misunderstood."
"You said just us two..."
"Mom's gotta watch Yu-jin. She's still little—can't risk a cold."
Ah, so that's it. He nodded like he got it. Still kept his guard up inside.
Turned out Dad had gone alone to the township restaurant and brought takeout.
The food was cold, but eating as a family of four made it fun. Best part: misunderstanding cleared. Relief.
Mom never ate much anyway, and Dad tapped out full first. Jin-hyuk scraped up every last bit of their leftovers. Sauce-mingled Western pork cutlet was divine.
Some grasshopper rustling somewhere, but he missed it, too busy licking the plate.
Gotta try again next time.
Yeah. Our boy's too skittish.
He's fast—can we even catch him?
Oppa ain't faster?
Dunno.
Grab before he bolts, then.
Jin-hyuk's strong too.
Oppa, should we just call the doc to the house?
Felt like Mom was the eager one.
But Son Gwang-yeon and Han Yu-young's schemes all went up in smoke.
Blame Jin-hyuk's speed.
Must've been training from past life to dodge this. Spring cuckoos wailing warnings of today's peril. Poetic lines flooded in.
For a week, his desperate cries trailed like cirrus clouds across the rural winter skies morning and night.
"It peels itself if you leave it-!"
Rustle-rustle-.
That sound alone sent chills down Jin-hyuk's spine. Even when it was just Yu-jin gnawing an apple with her baby teeth.
The couple's worries deepened.
Already late as is—imagine when he grew more. Natural, really.
Oppa, but it really peels on its own?
Yeah, kinda...
Shouldn't we take him to the hospital? You got peeled too, right?
Oh yeah.
Son Gwang-yeon never had anyone to take him.
Come to think, I never went either.
Really? How'd yours get peeled then?
So maybe no need to go or peel.
No clue why their faces flushed mid-chat, but the couple got weirdly serious.
Vrooom-.
Motorcycle pulling into the yard.
The male grasshopper who'd been sweetly rustling with his mate flung open the door.
Yuk Seong-chan's dad, from the inner village.
"Jin-hyuk's dad, you seen our Seong-chan?"
"Seong-chan? Hmm, not since he came over Chuseok. Somethin' up, Seong-chan's dad?"
"Damn punk bolted when I said pork cutlet. Freezin' out—where'd that rotten kid go."
Yuk Young-gu lit a smoke, so Son Gwang-yeon shut the door and stepped into the yard.
"But your wife said somethin'. That Jin-hyuk..."
"Yeah?"
Puff—he paused to exhale.
"Peels?"
"Haha, we're just leavin' it be. Jin-hyuk washes up good mornin' and night..."
Dad for the win!
From his second-floor room, Jin-hyuk eavesdropping whooped inwardly. Climax of the brutal seven-day tactical war—victory sealed.
All done.
Vacation soon—Hong Gi-jun's family coming down. Parents swapping kid growth tales? Whale hunt saga hits Seoul ears for sure. Then Hong Su-jeong'd beg to see. She'd cling pant legs. Just imagining had Jin-hyuk near fainting.
Dizzy.
Jin-hyuk's triumph.
Now drop all worries, breathe easy.
He eased the window shut.
"But that punk don't wash worth a damn. Stinks too—where'd he run off to."
After a long rant, Yuk Young-gu hopped on his bike and revved up.
"Headin' out?"
"Yeah. Take care. Don't fret too much. Cold out—he'll be back soon."
Motorcycle faded away.
Jindo dog clear.
"Buddy, dad's gone."
"Ahhyoo-, felt ten years older."
Yuk Seong-chan, who'd been hunkered in the bed corner hugging shoes, crawled out.
Starving, he snatched a fistful of snacks off the desk and shoved 'em in.
"Man, Jin-hyuk's room is awesome. Computer too. When'd you get this?"
"Uncle from Seoul got it last year."
Hong Gi-jun's XT-level desktop PC.
The one TV hyped as faster than a jet takeoff. Pro Elite. Hit power—rumbles, beeps, boots up.
Stuffed disks from classmate Im Hyung-seop to try Prince of Persia, Invaders, Tanuki—ended up virus-hunting Jerusalem nonstop. Made him suspect vaccine makers were the virus spreaders. Every disk infected.
Crusader gramps couldn't beat a virus—why the holy land fuss?
Yuk Seong-chan poked the keyboard, eyeing Jin-hyuk. Game itch obvious.
"Can I come play every day?"
"Sure. Come on over."
Jin-hyuk barely used the sluggish PC anyway. Let friends play—earn some goodwill. Didn't eat snacks much; better for pals. Rediscovering joys like this? Awesome.
Yuk Seong-chan slipped out the window to the terrace, then down the outdoor stairs quiet to dodge Jin-hyuk's folks.
...And didn't show for over ten days.
Yuk Seong-chan kid turned peeled boy.
Sad call came: Dad nabbed him, peeled.
Added he couldn't sit on the bike seat nohow.
- Jin-hyuk, guys born cry three times. Onions, garlic...
Yuk Seong-chan peeled couldn't finish.
No need—Jin-hyuk knew the rest.
And chilies.
That sad echo cut colder than winter wind.
Despite indoors, chill breeze grazed his nape.
Winter man Son Jin-hyuk hiked his collar.
Hands in pockets, he vowed firm.
I only cry twice.
Locked door, windows tight. Ironclad defenses. Remembering Kang Jin-su waking up peeled.
Yuk Seong-chan's sobs lingered like demon wails.
Tap-tap on window snagged his gaze.
Unusually mild winter, yet sky wept too.