What the Heart Can Cross
"Manager Kang! Assistant Manager Lee!"
The next day had arrived. No sooner had they clocked in than Kwak Young-ho bellowed for Kang Hyeong-seok and Lee Jin-pyeong, who had only just walked through the office door. His voice boomed loud enough that Namgoong Min-ah, who had come in earlier than any of them, startled and lifted her head from her desk.
"No, no. Min-ah, sorry for startling you."
"Nothing bad happened, right, Boss?"
"If it had, would I be wearing this face?"
Catching the smile on the Department Head's lips, Namgoong Min-ah seemed reassured and ducked her head back to her work, while Kwak Young-ho flapped a hand at the two men to hurry them over.
Click.
The moment the two of them stepped into the Department Head's office, Kwak Young-ho leaned across his desk, grinning like a boy on Christmas morning.
"Man, pairing you two up really does create instant synergy, huh?"
Kang Hyeong-seok had a fair guess as to what was coming, and he simply chuckled and waited for the rest of it.
"Kim Yeong-chan called! He's coming over with the contract in hand. And get this — apparently he wants to place a massive order. I mean, what in the world does anyone need that much wood for? Scared the daylights out of me mid-call, I'm telling you."
That figured. Kim Yeong-chan's father had spent his whole life running a health tonic business, and it had cost countless dogs their lives. Now his son meant to carve a memorial tablet for every last one of them and raise a memorial pavilion as well — and that would take no small amount of timber.
"Hm? Manager Kang, you're taking this awfully calmly."
"We got everything settled with him yesterday. I expected as much."
"Then you could've at least given me a heads-up."
Caught between Kwak Young-ho's and Lee Jin-pyeong's stares, Kang Hyeong-seok gave a sheepish laugh.
"Things ran late yesterday, so I was planning to report first thing this morning. I didn't count on Mr. Kim beating me to it."
"Aha! Well, either way — you two head straight over there. I'll get the report ready to send upstairs, so call me the second that contract is signed!"
Kwak Young-ho was clearly in a hurry. Still facing the two of them, he powered on his computer, its fan whirring up with a low hum.
Then, turning his mind to the report, he cast his eyes toward Lee Jin-pyeong as well.
"And Assistant Manager Lee — really, really good work. You've been through a lot."
"Thank you."
Ordinarily, the answer would have been a flat "Yes." and nothing more. The longer reply made Kwak Young-ho blink at him in mild surprise, and Kang Hyeong-seok sent him much the same look.
"Hm? Something happen?"
"No. Nothing at all."
"Aigoo, well — congratulations all the same. I'll handle the reporting upstairs in style, so go with an easy mind. Nothing urgent over there, right? If not, take it easy on the road. No rush getting back. Deal?"
In other words: any judicious dawdling on the company clock would be quietly overlooked. Kang Hyeong-seok laughed without a sound and nodded, and Kwak Young-ho shooed them out the door with a final wave — go on, get moving already!
And so the two of them, without so much as a moment to sit down at their desks, made straight for the underground parking garage.
Thunk.
Behind the wheel, Kang Hyeong-seok waited until he saw Lee Jin-pyeong buckle up before turning the ignition.
Vrrr-rumble.
The engine came awake with a heavy, hushed growl that almost sounded like a whine of complaint. "I only just settled in for a rest, and now where exactly are we headed?" If cars had mouths, that was surely what this one would be grumbling.
Vrummmm.
As if in apology, Kang Hyeong-seok gave the steering wheel a soothing rub and eased them out of the underground garage — and that was when Lee Jin-pyeong spoke up.
"Um, Manager?"
"Yes?"
"I'm glad it worked out."
"So am I. But — did something happen?"
Kang Hyeong-seok flicked a glance at Lee Jin-pyeong's profile, then returned his eyes to the road. A moment later, Lee Jin-pyeong's voice drifted over from beside him.
"I had a dream last night."
"What kind of dream?"
"You know I used to have a Spitz."
He went on in a murmur, his face slack and far away, like a man not quite awake.
"Her name was Baekseol-i. I had her a long, long time — loved her with everything I had."
Vrummmm.
Inside the moving car, Kang Hyeong-seok let his gaze dip briefly to Lee Jin-pyeong's lap — then pulled it away. There sat the Spitz, eyes closed, nothing but her ears pricked, hanging on Lee Jin-pyeong's every word.
"She showed up in my dream last night."
"She did...?"
"Yes. Right there — this close, right in front of me."
Lee Jin-pyeong raised a hand and traced a small circle just before his eyes. For a heartbeat, it looked as though the words were about to come pouring out.
But his arm sank back down, deflated, and for a long while he could not find the next sentence. A weighty silence filled the car. Several times he swallowed the words back down, and at last Lee Jin-pyeong dragged the corners of his mouth upward into something like a smile.
"I was so glad to see her."
It was the first time — the first time Lee Jin-pyeong's voice had ever gone thick like that. Kang Hyeong-seok pressed his lips together and eased off the accelerator, slowing below his usual pace.
It was a weekday morning, rush hour already behind them, and the downtown streets ran thin with traffic — but he had no intention of letting the engine's drone crowd into this conversation.
"You must have missed her terribly."
"...Yes."
"Do you still?"
"...Yes."
When he stole another glance, the Spitz was gazing up at Lee Jin-pyeong's sunken face.
"They say the heart is a transcendent thing — that it can cross over a great many things."
He had never heard Kang Hyeong-seok speak like this before, and Lee Jin-pyeong's eyes turned toward him.
"Sometimes, they say, it even crosses death itself. As much as you longed to see her, Assistant Manager Lee, I'm certain Baekseol-i longed for you every bit as much."
"......"
"Just think of it as two hearts reaching for each other — and a miracle taking place."
"Manager..."
He had known it the instant he saw the Spitz's face. Lee Jin-pyeong had called it a dream, but it had been no dream at all.
The miracle must have happened last night, in the very moment Kang Hyeong-seok swept clear and opened the road to heaven to guide the dog ghosts across. Two souls who had ached for each other even while staying close — their hearts had finally met.
A human, and an animal. A bond someone, somewhere, might dismiss as trivial. And yet how could anyone ever dare call it that?
Vrummmm.
Accelerating once more, Kang Hyeong-seok stole one last look at the Spitz. Then his face settled into a smile — faint, and unmistakable all the same.
It really was a miracle.
There is such a thing as merit — the kind earned by lending a hand to others, by doing good in the world. The Spitz had guarded Lee Jin-pyeong, twice already by his own count. Watching over him in the hospital while he lay unconscious, and then again last night, the dog had heaped merit upon merit by protecting the man she loved.
Last night's reunion had been her reward for it. And the reward did not end there. On the Spitz's forehead, a numinous power had taken up residence.
Singu — the Divine Hound. Or, by its older name, Sammokgu — the Three-Eyed Dog.
A sacred beast with three eyes. A being that drives out evil and destroys vengeful spirits. Whether she knew her own nature or not, Baekseol-i gave a long, luxurious yawn on Lee Jin-pyeong's lap, tucked her head down, and drifted off to sleep. And so Kang Hyeong-seok drove the rest of the way with particular care, guarding her dreams.
"Boss, where are you off to?"
"Oh — ah, it's nothing. And, listen."
Out on the factory floor, Kim Yeong-chan shot the employee who had called out to him an awkward grin.
"Some folks from Daejeong Mulsan will be along shortly. Just help them get the contract paperwork done."
"A contract? You're actually signing a deal?"
"Yep. That's the plan."
The employee's brow furrowed even as one corner of his mouth twitched upward. However little he understood the boss's sudden change of heart, delight brimmed plainly in his eyes.
"Didn't you say you were winding the business down?"
"Nah. Gonna keep it running."
"And your son's taking it over?"
At that, Kim Yeong-chan smiled — the look of a man with plenty on his mind.
"Yeah. Says he will."
"Well now! That's wonderful. Handing the family business down to your son — wasn't that your lifelong wish, Boss?"
"Ha ha... ha."
Watching the boss fail to manage even a proper laugh, the employee's brow creased deeper still.
"Something troubling you?"
"Nah, nothing like that. Anyway — I'm counting on you."
"And if they ask where you've gone?"
"Tell them I went out with my son. They'll understand."
The employee looked more puzzled than ever. But there was no helping it.
There were memorial pavilions to raise now, and memorial tablets to carve — far too many for one man's hands alone. Just as the sin had been handed down, so too must the work pass to his son, Kim Yeong-jun.
HONK, HONK!
Kim Yeong-jun leaned on the horn as if to say, come on, let's go.
"Whoa — that's my cue. Everything back there is all yours!"
"Yes, sir. Have a good one, Boss!"
Kim Yeong-chan scurried over to the car and pulled open the passenger door, then climbed in beside his son at the wheel and buckled up.
"You feeling all right?"
"Yeah."
Kim Yeong-jun's careless answer sat oddly on a face that looked weighed down with thought.
"What's this, then? When'd you stick this up here?"
"It's the car we'll be riding in together from now on. Fixed it up a little this morning."
When Kim Yeong-chan's fingers brushed the photo of a puppy perched on the dashboard, Kim Yeong-jun snapped.
It was the puppy Kim Yeong-jun himself had raised.
Vrrrm.
Engine running, Kim Yeong-jun pulled out and followed the address he had keyed into the navigation beforehand. The employee waved the shrinking car off, but inside it a heavy stillness had settled between father and son.
"Dad."
"What?"
"I'm sorry. For calling it all superstition."
He had resented Kim Yeong-chan for it — all those times his father ran off to the shrine house without warning. When the son who had resented him came out with an apology, Kim Yeong-chan turned to stare in shock, and Kim Yeong-jun, face tight with everything bottling up inside, twisted his lips.
"Damn it. I still don't get what's what, honestly. Still don't really understand why I have to be the one doing this..."
His eyes fixed on the puppy photo propped against the dashboard, Kim Yeong-jun's mouth twisted harder.
"If this is our karma, then I'll carry all of it. Not for Grandfather's sake — it just feels like the right thing to do."
The grudges of dogs who had lost their masters. Having been possessed by those dog ghosts, Kim Yeong-jun had felt them vividly, bone-deep. Now he understood how immense that sense of loss was — how much they had suffered.
"Yeong-jun..."
"Never in my life did I think dogs would be the thing to turn it upside down."
Kim Yeong-jun let out a long breath, pressed his lips tight together, then opened them again.
"When all of this is over — let's get a dog again sometime. Raise one, just once more."
Not to appease any karmic debt. But for the memories of raising one, the memory of giving it love. For the simple longing to feel all of that again.
"Yeah. Let's do that."
"We've got plenty to do first."
Kim Yeong-jun gazed at the sun streaming dead ahead into the windshield, and the corner of his mouth lifted, faintly.
"We're hitting the realtor first, right?"
"That's right. That's where we start."
"Sign the land contract, then stop by the government office about the building permits."
"Look at you. All grown up, huh?"
Kim Yeong-jun shook his head as if to say, oh, knock it off, and jerked a thumb over his shoulder.
"I'll mind the business end of things. You just sit back there and carve your memorial tablets, Dad."
Clatter, clatter.
Only then did Kim Yeong-chan turn around to look. When had his son found the time to prepare all this? A leather case of carving knives, and a box of wood blanks cut to just the right size for memorial tablets, lay waiting on the back seat.