Chapter 51

Ryu Do-gyeong was dressed in a neat suit. Unlike usual, his face wasn’t set in its habitual frown — he simply gazed quietly at the urn in front of him.

I held my breath and studied him. I hadn’t followed him here in secret, but somehow it felt like I shouldn’t be caught watching.

Before long, he set down the bouquet he’d been holding beside the urn. He didn’t seem to have noticed my gaze yet.

I didn’t need to check to know whose urn it was.

Ryu Do-gyeong’s dead parents. Like my own mother, they’d left behind a young child. He must have come here to pay his respects to them.

…It’s been a while since I’ve seen that kind of face.

It was a far cry from the ice he usually armored himself in.

A face steeped in loneliness. It overlapped, for a moment, with the way he’d looked at the funeral I’d wandered into as a child, not knowing any better. A sudden feeling told me I shouldn’t watch any longer.

I turned my back to look away, and before long I heard a knock against the glass. Ryu Do-gyeong had spotted me and was calling to me through the window.

He said something from inside the building. I read the shape of his lips — wait there.

“…Joo Sae-i!”

Soon enough, Ryu Do-gyeong came out of the building and called me to a stop. His eyes said he hadn’t expected to run into me here.

“What are you doing here…”

“I asked to come.”

“Oh, Chairman Joo.”

Before Ryu Do-gyeong could get another word out, my grandfather, who’d followed behind, cut in with the answer. He came up beside me and openly looked Ryu Do-gyeong over, head to toe.

Ryu Do-gyeong lowered his eyes, as if conscious of my grandfather’s gaze.

“About… Chairman Ryu…”

It was fairly well known that Chairman Ryu disliked it when his grandson honored his parents.

Ryu Do-gyeong seemed to freeze at the thought that his being here might get back to Chairman Ryu. My grandfather was Chairman Ryu’s close friend, after all.

My grandfather watched him for a moment, then spoke, slow and deliberate.

“I was already planning to look the other way.”

“Ah…”

“Who could stop a child from missing his parents.”

At those words, Ryu Do-gyeong closed the mouth he’d opened.

“It was around this time they passed, wasn’t it? Your parents.”

Ryu Do-gyeong bit down on his lip as if holding something back, and nodded.

“You must be feeling hollow. Let Sae-i keep you company for a while.”

“What?”

That was the moment my grandfather clicked his tongue and handed me off to Ryu Do-gyeong.

Even as I asked him, urgently, to repeat himself, my grandfather paid me no mind, only looking at Ryu Do-gyeong with something like pity.

“There now. Just see my granddaughter home on time. It won’t reach Chairman Ryu’s ears today, so don’t worry.”

His voice was low but firm. Ryu Do-gyeong’s eyes widened in surprise before he bowed his head briefly.

“…Thank you.”

Before I could add a word of my own, my grandfather was already heading for the car, leaving only Ryu Do-gyeong and me behind in the garden.

Ryu Do-gyeong sat me alone on a bench, stayed silent for a moment, then finally spoke.

“What brought you here?”

“My mother’s here too.”

“Ah.”

It was a dry exchange. We’d each known the other’s family history, but this was the first time either of us had brought it up directly since we’d met again.

“You were watching me, earlier.”

“W-wait, how did you know?”

“You think I’m as slow as some people. I thought the Chairman might’ve assigned someone to watch me, but it was you.”

Chairman Ryu and Ryu Do-gyeong were said to be close. Still, I’d heard that Chairman Ryu couldn’t even stand to have his grandson mention his parents.

That was because Chairman Ryu’s second son, consumed by the fight for succession, had hired men to run down the eldest son — Ryu Do-gyeong’s father — and his wife with a freight truck.

That greed was what had cost Ryu Do-gyeong his parents.

Once Chairman Ryu realized what his second son had done, he refused to let it quietly pass. He pushed for a proper investigation and, in the end, had his own second son locked away.

And that wasn’t all. Those who’d been close to the second son couldn’t escape Chairman Ryu’s wrath either. That was how Chairman Ryu had come to cut away most of his own family and earn his name as the man who purged his own kin.

After that, he’d taken in and raised the now-orphaned Ryu Do-gyeong, cherishing his grandson enough to mark him as the official heir — and yet…

His own child was the one who killed his grandson’s parents, in effect. No wonder it must weigh on him.

That was why, in the Ryu family, bringing up “that matter” had become forbidden. As a child, I’d once stood beside Ryu Do-gyeong and watched him get scolded for breaking that rule.

I didn’t realize it was bad enough that they’d still have someone watch over this, even now.

It struck me that Ryu Do-gyeong must be carrying no small burden of his own. When I looked at him with something close to pity, he scowled, clearly displeased.

“I wasn’t trying to spy. It’s just… your face looked a little…”

“Forget it. Whatever it was.”

“Why?”

“Do I need to list out the reasons for you to understand? There’s no good in holding on to a look like that.”

Ryu Do-gyeong seemed to think I’d caught him at a weak moment, having seen him missing his parents.

He’s gotten thoroughly twisted up.

At the very least, the Ryu Do-gyeong I used to know hadn’t been like this.

If anything, he’d been the opposite…

You don’t have to be so tough all the time, Joo Sae-i. It’s all right to be weak.

……

They say there’s a proper time for grieving as much as you want, too.

B-but…

Just cry. I’ll shield you.

He was the one who’d told me, after I’d lost my mother, that I could grieve all I wanted, that it was fine to suffer.

While I’d been away from the Joo family, Ryu Do-gyeong must have gone through plenty of his own. The result of enduring all that was the parched, dried-up Ryu Do-gyeong standing in front of me now.

I was trying not to get involved.

I’d tried to avoid getting tangled up with Ryu Do-gyeong, but seeing him like this and simply letting it pass would truly make me ungrateful.

At the very least, I wanted to give back as much comfort as the old Ryu Do-gyeong had once given me. Back then, I’d whined at him enough to make anyone sick of it.

“Saying that won’t make me forget.”

“Why not.”

“Because you were the one who told me I didn’t have to be so tough, before.”

“What are you…”

Ryu Do-gyeong swallowed the rest of his words and looked away from my eyes. He seemed to be remembering the past we shared. I didn’t give him room to argue before adding—

“Back then, all you ever did was play the part of shielding me when I cried. It’s about time you switched roles.”

“……”

“Let’s just say today, I shielded you…”

I’d started off sounding proud of myself, but by the end I trailed off, watching his reaction warily.

I’d expected him to snap back that he hadn’t even cried, so what was there to shield — but Ryu Do-gyeong went quiet instead. He looked at me without a word, then turned his head toward the urn.

“…When I was little.”

After a long while lost in thought, he slowly parted his lips. His voice had gone a little hoarse, and he cleared it before continuing.

“People around me used to say a lot of things — that I’d devoured my own parents.”

Ah, there it was again. Ryu Do-gyeong looked at me with the same quiet face he’d worn earlier, in front of the urn.

I hadn’t noticed it when I wasn’t facing him head-on, but that expression carried a surprising weight. Just meeting his eyes made my stomach turn.

“Back then, the whole world felt loud and suffocating…”

“……”

“But being around you, strangely enough, let me breathe.”

His voice was serious, almost like a confession.

“Maybe it’s because you were such a fool. Throwing tantrums whenever you felt like it.”

Scratch that “serious.”

Why bring up someone’s embarrassing past out of nowhere, right when he was being so earnest? Shame crept up my face before I even realized I’d stopped listening properly and started blushing.

Ryu Do-gyeong paid no attention to the change in me and kept right on talking.

“So I thought it’d be fine to keep you by my side. Never imagined you’d just vanish on me.”

Ryu Do-gyeong gave me a sharp look for a moment. When my shoulders flinched, he seemed to get the reaction he wanted and smirked.

“I thought I’d never find you again.”

“……”

“Being near you still lets me breathe. Even now.”

Maybe what I’d said had given him some small comfort. Ryu Do-gyeong looked down at me, his expression brighter than before.

All right, now’s the part where he says thank you…

I smiled to myself, satisfied, already predicting what would come next. Ryu Do-gyeong pressed his index finger against my forehead and said—

“I mean you’re annoying, Joo Sae-i.”

“What?”

Wasn’t this exactly the moment for a thank you? Just as I was about to say something back to him, as he grinned mischievously—

“Huh…?”

Fat raindrops began falling on top of our heads. It took only a moment for the ground, and then our clothes, to soak through.