The Thirty-Second Assignment — Crossroads ④
House after identical house slipped past as Yeon-ui checked the address in his hand against each nameplate. Bit by bit, he was closing in on the place he wanted. He would be there soon enough. The heart he had worked so hard to settle began to pound all over again.
Had they moved? Would they even be home? Would they welcome him?
They were the same worries he carried on every delivery. But given what he had come here to do, the tension was inescapable. Yeon-ui drew a long, unsteady breath.
"Hah."
Then his feet stopped. The address on the paper matched the one on the nameplate. Without quite meaning to, he had arrived. He'd been trying to hurry, but it seemed he had hurried far more than he needed to. The color drained a little from his face.
I didn't need to get here this fast.
He looked the house over. Compared to the ones he had passed on the way, it looked rundown — poorly kept, as if no one had the means to maintain it. The rusted front gate and the moss clinging to the walls gave the place a bleak, desolate air. The nameplate suggested someone lived here, and from the look of things, he could already guess at the household's circumstances.
Now what?
Go in, or don't.
He still wasn't fully prepared. It was a dilemma he faced every time, and yet today it ballooned to meet him again and again. He was just starting to worry whether he could even bring himself to speak to the recipient when a voice called from behind him. A young girl's voice.
"Who are you?"
Yeon-ui spun around, startled. A girl with a short bob, a full head shorter than him — no, even more than that. She looked like she lived here. Not wanting to seem suspicious, he answered in a gentle, easy voice, and he didn't forget to bend down to her eye level.
"I've got something to deliver to the owner of this house. Do you know who that is?"
"Something to deliver?"
"Yeah. Don't worry — it's nothing weird."
The girl didn't drop her suspicious look. She had the air of someone who found it hard to trust people. The shadows around her eyes and her wan complexion held none of the cheerfulness you would expect from a child her age. Yeon-ui felt a pang of pity at her gloom.
"I live in this house. Where did you come from?"
The questions kept coming. If he failed to answer, she looked ready to leave on the spot. Cold sweat ran down Yeon-ui's back as he replied. This was the first rejection of its kind he had ever encountered, and it cut deep.
"I live in Suwon."
"And your job?"
"I-I have to tell you my job too?"
"There are some people we can't let into the house. Please tell me. What's your job?"
At first he thought of saying he was a student and leaving it at that. But thinking it over, a student wouldn't have any reason to come all the way out here. He had no choice but to name a different occupation.
"I'm a postman."
Recent events had made the title feel awkward, but he had no hesitation in giving the name.
"A postman? But you're not wearing a postman's uniform."
"I'm not an ordinary postman. I've told you my job — could you let me in now? It's important."
The girl studied the pleading Yeon-ui with care, looking him up and down as if appraising merchandise. He tried his hardest not to make a bad impression. About ten seconds of awkward smiling later, she let out a low sigh, and the suspicion faded from her face and her eyes.
"...Come in."
She opened the gate. A shy quality clung to her timid hands. Yeon-ui followed as quietly as he could, not wanting to be a burden.
A musty smell of dust greeted him the moment he stepped through. A front yard paved in concrete, an outdoor faucet long since dried, a tiny flower bed tucked off to one side — everything here smelled of age and neglect. The pillars holding up the house were darkened with the grime of old handprints. All of it, he realized, was the source of the dinginess that clung to the girl herself.
"Oppa! I'm home."
She called toward the inside of the house, and a young man pushed open the paper sliding door and came out. His slender face and features made him look around Yeon-ui's age. His rumpled black hair was like a puppy's coat.
"Hyoyeon, you're back? Hold on. Dinner'll be ready in a—"
The young man who had come out so cheerfully spotted Yeon-ui, and his expression froze like a statue. His wariness was even stronger than that of the girl who had led Yeon-ui in — Hyoyeon. He spoke in a tense voice.
"Hyoyeon. Who's the person behind you? Did you bring him here?"
He gestured for her to come quickly. Hyoyeon ran over, and the young man stood in front of her as if to shield her. Naturally, this put him and Yeon-ui face to face. Gloomy eyes met bright, sparkling ones.
"Who are you, and why have you come here? We didn't receive a phone call."
"I have business with the owner of this house. I was told that's you — is that right?"
"Yes. For now, anyway."
Even after he had stated his business, the suspicion continued. He was a stranger, true, but the way they treated him was excessively rigid. Still, Yeon-ui didn't say a single unkind word to the young man.
It was because of the sender of the letter he was delivering this time.
Even after a criminal vanished, the chill directed at that criminal never did.
"If you have business, say it quickly. My sister and I don't like people coming here. We just want to live quietly now."
The young man pressed him. From that word — now — a shuddering irritation and exhaustion bled through. Yeon-ui hurriedly explained his purpose. If he wasn't careful, he would be thrown out without accomplishing a thing.
"It's hard to say quickly. It's a long story. And I have something I need to deliver as well."
"Then just go back."
The other party simply would not receive him. At the mention that it would be a long story, the young man told him to leave without a second thought, paying no mind to the fluster in Yeon-ui's eyes. You could tell how battered he had been by the world's hardships.
"I'm sorry for being rude out of nowhere. But I don't like what I don't like. We came all the way out here just to get away from people's eyes..."
"..."
"You wouldn't understand. It's a family matter, and I don't even want to explain it. Just state your business briefly and go. At home, at least, I want it to be only me and my sister."
Yeon-ui was at a loss. If he did as they wanted, he couldn't achieve his purpose. If he pushed through, he would be thrown out for trespassing. He fidgeted, unable to do either, and the young man's gaze grew more unpleasant by the second.
Then Hyoyeon, who had been standing back, stepped in.
"Oppa, let's at least hear him out."
"You go inside. I'll send him away."
When she tried to intervene, the young man blocked her with a stern expression. He didn't want to put the burden on his sister. But Hyoyeon didn't back down. Color returned to her haggard face.
"Did you forget? I was the one who let him in."
"Th-that's because you made a mistake, Hyoyeon. How can you just let a stranger into the house?"
"He's different from other people. That's why. You take a closer look too, Oppa."
Hyoyeon's index finger pointed at Yeon-ui's face. The young man turned his frowning face toward him, and an unimpressed gaze traveled up and down. An unintended appraisal session. Yeon-ui waited for the verdict with a smile frozen stiff on his face.
The young man weighed things in his mind. Whether this was someone he could trust, whether he could let him in — he added weights to the scale and measured. The hand stroking his chin was nervously, irritably busy. And then, after a while:
"All right. It doesn't seem like Hyoyeon was wrong about him."
Well. That felt like I was being inspected like merchandise.
"I'll give you some of my time. But if your business seems off, I'll send you out immediately. If you don't like that, you can leave. I can't concede any more than this."
Conditional permission, at least, had been granted. Unlike his sister, he hadn't completely dropped his suspicion. Yeon-ui thanked Hyoyeon with a wink. But an unexpected reaction followed.
"Ah. And don't look at my sister too much. She'll wear out."
Well now?
This gloomy young man was a siscon — a full-blown sister complex. The legendary overprotective-brother type Yeon-ui had only ever heard about. Since he bickered with his own sister Hyeonhui every day, it just seemed fascinating. He found himself smiling despite himself.
"Standing around talking isn't great. Come in."
At last, a chance to talk. If you were given a chance, you took it — that was only human. Yeon-ui quickly slipped off his shoes and stepped up onto the wooden floor. The moment of decision had arrived.
Give them the letter.
Or abandon the letter, and offer something in its place.
Well. I'll figure it out somehow.
The die was cast.
"Sorry I don't have anything to offer you. We don't buy drinks often."
The young man held out a roughly poured cup. The drink was sungnyung, scorched-rice tea that had been sitting far too long. Now that he had accepted Yeon-ui as a guest, he seemed embarrassed by the meager hospitality. But Yeon-ui took the cup without complaint.
"I'm not picky about food. The work is more important."
"Right. If you came all the way out to this backwater, you must have come with a purpose. Good intentions or bad. You remember what I said at the start, don't you?"
"You're being awfully particular."
Still that sharp way of speaking. If it weren't for his sister Hyoyeon, he would have thrown Yeon-ui out. How thoroughly he had come to detest outsiders was beyond guessing. Yeon-ui grumbled quietly under his breath, a complaint that of course wouldn't land at all.
"There's a reason for it. Let's introduce ourselves first. I'm Bae Hyoseong."
The young man gave his name first. Yeon-ui had wondered, but fortunately, he was the recipient. Yeon-ui returned the greeting with an awkward smile — an especially uncomfortable smile, today.
"I'm Seo Yeon-ui. Nice to meet you... though the situation makes that a bit strange to say."
"Because I'm not glad. What's this business you mentioned? You said the explanation would take time, and I have no idea what kind of mess my sister and I have gotten mixed up in."
One wrong answer and he looked ready to give Yeon-ui a severe scolding. His attitude of wanting nothing to do with this was like a hedgehog — a hedgehog with every spine fully bared. The fact that he had to pull those spines out pricked at a corner of Yeon-ui's conscience. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth.
"I received an item that was meant to be delivered here."
"An item?"
"Yes. Something that Bae Hyoseong and Bae Hyoyeon absolutely need to receive."
He said that much and paused to catch his breath. He couldn't just hand over the letter. Pulling out the spines wasn't enough — he had to look at the flesh underneath as well. He also had to worry about actually getting punched.
He steeled himself and delivered the blow.
"It's something your father left behind."
The air froze in an instant.
Hyoseong's breath caught for a moment, and Hyoyeon's face twisted in dismay. It was a remark that didn't just expose a wound — it gouged it open. Yeon-ui squeezed his eyes shut and braced for what came next. Necessary, maybe, but a thoughtless thing to do. He mocked himself that he couldn't complain even if he got hit.
"Listen here, Mr. Seo Yeon-ui."
Hyoseong called his name in a voice that had grown even harder. Fortunately, a fist didn't come flying first. Yeon-ui answered in a slightly trembling tone.
"Go ahead."
"What you just said... that's not a lie, is it?"
"It's not. I can swear to it."
Yeon-ui's expression turned serious at the question of whether it was a lie. Other things aside, this was something he could say with complete confidence. Hyoseong nodded as if he had expected as much. Those eyes — so bright they held not a single shadow — inspired trust even in someone meeting Yeon-ui for the first time. Hyoseong covered his face and let out a sigh.
"Ha! That's rich. He left like that, and now he wants to do what?"
A sticky, swamp-like resentment seeped out. Hyoyeon grabbed Hyoseong's sleeve, and Yeon-ui said nothing more, waiting for him to calm down. An old regret passed through the room.
A moment later, Hyoseong continued more clearly than before. It seemed the catch of tears had been washed from his throat.
"Did you come here knowing everything? If you were entrusted with our father's belongings, it would be hard not to know."
"That's not the case. I only received the item to deliver. I haven't even opened the packaging."
Yeon-ui's hand clenched the front pocket of his coat. Two envelopes... a letter envelope and a money envelope. He had planned to give the money envelope if he didn't give the letter. Paying them off with money was a bad thing to do, but he couldn't give them a fake letter either. For Yeon-ui, it was the best desperate measure he could manage.
"You're a strange person."
"I think that about myself pretty often."
"I suppose you would. Fine. It would feel uneasy delivering something without knowing anything. I'll tell you what I can, at least briefly."
Depending on what Hyoseong said, what Yeon-ui would give them would change as well.