Chapter 4. The Seam That Wouldn’t Open
Seong-jun was gasping on the living room sofa.
The breeze that had slipped in as the curtains were drawn back cooled the damp sweat on his forehead.
“Hoo...”
“Are you okay, oppa?”
“Have I been neglecting exercise too much lately? I’m already out of breath from this?”
“Don’t push yourself, oppa. I’m fine going slowly.”
“Since you brought it up, I kind of want to get it over with. Should we do it next time?”
“Ah... no... I didn’t think you’d start this suddenly.”
Min-ah looked worried, as though she might be burdening Seong-jun.
“It’ll be over in no time, so stay put. Ngh... huh!?”
“Ah! Oppa! Wait a second!”
When Seong-jun lost his balance on the sofa and lurched sideways, Min-ah startled and clamped down hard on the thigh she’d been holding.
“Be careful, oppa. If you move like that all of a sudden, it’ll be a disaster.”
She was looking up at him with a concerned face.
Seong-jun finally steadied himself and let out a breath.
He wiped away the faint sheen of sweat on his forehead and signaled to Min-ah that he was fine now.
“The video made it sound easier. No, I should just do it the way I was.”
“You’ll get hurt trying to copy that stuff. They’re professionals.”
At her rebuke, Seong-jun felt awkward.
“Maybe I should’ve just called someone.”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant. You do fine too, oppa.”
“No, they say it’s better to leave it to an expert at least once.”
Had he said something unnecessary?
Seong-jun stole a look at Min-ah.
“Really? Um...”
Apparently she had never even thought about it; she looked troubled.
“I always just assumed oppa did it well, so I didn’t know. Well, if it’s really necessary...”
“Should I call someone?”
Seong-jun hurried to cut in before she could finish.
“Yeah. If you think it’s needed, then you should.”
“Heh-heh-heh, got it. Still, let’s try me first today.”
Seong-jun decided not to push too hard.
If it had to happen, it could happen later.
For now, this was something he had to handle himself.
He settled himself again and peered into the narrow seam that had opened.
“It’s cleaner than I thought.”
“Than you thought?”
“The videos make some of them look completely filthy.”
“You’ve seen them before too. I’ve been taking care of mine, you know.”
Min-ah said it proudly, puffing out her chest.
“You don’t even know what it looks like inside. Haha.”
Seong-jun gave a small snort of laughter.
Min-ah pushed her glasses up a little and peered into the inside he’d already opened.
“Honestly, even looking at it, I still don’t really get it. Women don’t get the chance to see this stuff much. It’s... pretty different from what I imagined.”
“I was shocked too the first time. I thought, so that’s what it looks like.”
“Ah, now I remember. At first, oppa didn’t even know how to take it off. You were flustered for ages, haha.”
Min-ah grinned wickedly as she recalled the old memory.
“It was a problem because there were too many holes. And then there were those parts sticking out. Haaah.”
Every time Seong-jun remembered the time he had thrown himself in headfirst and sweated buckets over it, he still felt a thrill of panic.
“Then first I should open this part...”
He slid a finger into the gap.
As he worked his way into the wrinkled interior, he felt a faint dampness.
“Huh? It’s wet?”
When he rubbed his finger, there was a little slickness to it.
“Hm? Did something go wrong?”
“No... did you use it this morning?”
“Huh?”
Min-ah looked flustered.
“If you turn it a bit, water usually comes out. I was asking if you’d used it.”
“No way. I just exercised. I didn’t even think about using it.”
At her answer, Seong-jun fell into thought for a moment.
Then there had to be some other reason.
“I should check properly. Take this out of my pants.”
To inspect deeper inside, it was something that had to be done anyway.
Seong-jun leaned forward and pointed at the waistband of his pants.
“Ah... this? You should’ve said so sooner. That must have been uncomfortable.”
Min-ah carefully removed the item from Seong-jun’s pants.
“Hold it for a second. Once I open this up, hand it to me.”
“Okay. Use me roughly today. I felt bad that it’s always been you doing all the work, so this works out.”
“All right, give it here.”
Min-ah carefully placed it in Seong-jun’s hand.
He slowly guided it into the same opening he’d checked a moment ago.
“Here... like this... there’s a bit above it... ”
Seong-jun changed the angle and groped around the upper part of the opening.
Every time he twisted his body and strained, Min-ah seemed to twitch along with him.
He could feel slight catches here and there, but it still wouldn’t connect properly.
After several more attempts, he had no choice but to give up.
The day of his first time came back to him, and sweat broke out on him again.
“Damn it, it won’t work. It feels like I’m just a little short.”
“It won’t go?”
“Yeah... it’s a little short. I’m almost there.”
He hated admitting it, but if he forced it and broke something, the mess would only get worse.
To do it properly, he needed something longer than his own.
“Maybe I really do need to call someone.”
“Really? You’ve handled everything so well until now.”
“This is my first time doing this part. I could force it, sure, but I’m worried I’d handle it wrong and make things worse.”
At Min-ah’s words, Seong-jun wound up babbling excuses.
“I’ll look into it and contact someone. We might end up getting some total asshole, though.”
“What about the person you contacted last time?”
“Ah, that guy’s so famous that even if I booked now, it could take a month.”
“Really? But it’s still only May.”
“The day after tomorrow’s June. This must be peak season.”
“I see... okay. Then I’ll leave it to you, oppa.”
There was a faint note of disappointment in Min-ah’s voice.
Seong-jun felt the same.
“Man, I only wasted my energy for nothing.”
“Sorry you had to work so hard because of me, oppa.”
“No, I was going to do it sooner anyway. I’ve just been busy lately.”
Seong-jun climbed down from the sofa and sat beside Min-ah.
“We should get this done before summer comes.”
“You don’t have to rush. I’ve been managing fine without it, anyway.”
Min-ah quickly brightened and, rather than complain, tried to comfort Seong-jun instead.
“I need it, that’s why. It’s hot.”
Summer was definitely creeping in.
From the breeze blowing through the living room window, he thought of the lukewarm air conditioner at the motel from last time.
“Ahem... anyway, don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”
“Then I’ll make lunch today! That’s fine, right?”
“Yeah, okay. Thanks.”
“Then do your work this morning. I’m going to run the laundry. Oh, should I wash the clothes you’re wearing now?”
“No. I wore these yesterday. Wait, nothing got on them, did it?”
As Min-ah’s gaze scanned him from head to toe, it stopped on the pale stain near Seong-jun’s groin.
“What’s this on your pants? It looks like it just got on there.”
“Ah, that... oh! Right. I got some soap on it while washing up this morning.”
“Mmm~ but I still want to wash it for you~”
“You keep wanting to wash things. Then how about washing this too?”
Seong-jun playfully mimed pulling down the waistband of his pants.
“How did you know? Come here! This time you’re not getting away!”
“Eek!”
Dodging Min-ah as she rushed in, laughing, Seong-jun laughed too and dashed into the workshop in a hurry.
“You’re running away again? Next time, are you not going to let me touch it either?”
Min-ah’s teasing voice came with the sound of her knocking on the door, then faded away.
“Hahaha... haah...”
Once Min-ah’s presence disappeared, Seong-jun’s laughter thinned out like a candle guttering down to its end, and then a sigh slipped out of him like smoke.
The workshop’s cold, heavy air strangely settled his mind.
Am I getting depressed or something?
This morning, no, really, for quite some time now,
there had been a discomfort lodged in some corner of Seong-jun’s heart, something he had never quite felt before.
And each time it suddenly surfaced like this and wrecked his day, he had to confront the truth he hated admitting.
He kept making excuses, but the cause was inside him.
Without even thinking to light up the dim room, Seong-jun staggered toward his computer.
He dropped into the chair as if throwing himself into it, and with a soft clink he felt something sharp and foreign catch against his pants.
He found the screwdriver that had pierced through his pocket and tossed it irritably onto the desk.
Crash.
The sharp metallic sound grated even harder on his nerves.
“Haah...”
While cleaning, he had discovered an unexpected problem in the air conditioner he’d opened. It was something he did every year, and of all years, this one had to throw him a new trouble. If something really was broken, Seong-jun wouldn’t be able to fix it anyway.
Feeling a sticky helplessness slowly rise inside him, he turned on the computer.
“Let’s just work.”
Whirr.
The monitor lit up with the sound of the tower powering on.
The blue glow of the login screen tinted Seong-jun’s face an unfamiliar color.
He opened a browser and logged into the web novel site.
When the page loaded, Seong-jun stared blankly at the Work Statistics screen.
“......”
There was no collapse.
At a glance, it looked like a fairly stable horizontal line.
A little over three million won a month.
As a full-time writer, it was the floor that let him avoid starving and still pretend to be the head of a household.
But Seong-jun moved the mouse and extended the viewing period to 1 year.
The cruel truth was revealed.
The graph was slanting downward at a very slight angle, dropping so slowly that it was almost impossible to notice.
Like water leaking through a crack, the numbers had already fallen to barely above waist level compared to their peak.
A chill ran down Seong-jun’s spine.
The readers weren’t leaving in anger. They were simply growing used to him and forgetting him in silence.
Like the air above a bed shared by a married couple of ten years.
“Hah...”
Rubbing his gritty eyes, Seong-jun checked the chapters he’d saved as backups.
Three installments were hanging on by a thread.
Mechanical effort dressed up as diligence.
Chunks of text he had piled up however he could just to survive.
So if he slipped even once here, this gentle slope would turn into a slide straight off a cliff.
He couldn’t break the fragile peace he was barely keeping alive.
Like someone being chased, Seong-jun closed the browser and launched his word processor.
Grinding away at the last embers of heat in his head,
he began stacking words again.