Honbul: Flame of the Soul

That day, when Jaegyeom asked Yoon Taehee whether he was sick, Taehee had answered, “No. I’m not sick.”

But the very next day, Yoon Taehee called in sick and didn’t come to headquarters.

As a result, the atmosphere in Team 1’s office stayed gloomy the entire day. Everyone was openly worried about Chief Yoon. Which was understandable, considering this was the first time Yoon Taehee had ever said he was “too sick to come in and would rest at home.”

Of course, Yoon Taehee was often late, changed his schedule whenever he pleased, and had never exactly been known for his diligence.

But this was the first time he had taken leave because he was ill.

After substituting for Kang Ibin at the scene, Yoon Taehee had ended up bedridden with a vicious fever. He had already been feeling unwell, then drank heavily, and on top of that got drenched in the rain. Naturally, his condition worsened. So he took another sick day after that as well.

On the second day of Yoon Taehee’s absence, Jaegyeom came home from work and paced around the living room.

He was debating whether or not to contact him.

He had promised himself he would only deal with Yoon Taehee when absolutely necessary. He had decided to keep his distance and maintain a shallow relationship.

And yet, despite all that, he still found himself worrying.

If they hadn’t gone to the scene together that day, he probably wouldn’t have cared whether Yoon Taehee was sick or not. Or even if he had worried, he wouldn’t have shown it. After everything that had happened between them, Jaegyeom had thought there was no way they could ever go back to how things used to be.

But when they’d detonated the silver battery inside the building and run away together, it had briefly felt like they had returned to those old days again.

To be honest, his heart had softened a little.

Which was why he hadn’t been able to coldly push away Yoon Taehee when Taehee rested his forehead against the back of his hand.

That day, Taehee had looked strangely fragile. Unsteady, like something on the verge of breaking.

And seeing him crouched there in the rain, soaked through like a drowned rat, had softened him too.

And...

A small part of him still wanted to see whether they could go back to the way things were before.

Eating meals with me. Drinking tea together sometimes. Laughing at my stupid jokes even when they aren’t funny. Getting into the car I drive every now and then, like today. That should be enough....

Still, aside from that, Jaegyeom genuinely didn’t understand what Yoon Taehee wanted from him anymore.

Whenever they faced each other, Taehee would say things like, You’re just a piece on my board, or, Do as you’re told, with that sharp tongue of his. But then his actions would turn around and contradict everything else.

Jaegyeom had no idea how he was supposed to respond to that.

After hesitating for a while, he finally pulled out his phone and called Yoon Taehee.

[The person you are trying to reach is unavailable. You will be connected to voicemail...]

Taehee didn’t answer.

Jaegyeom stared at the screen for a moment before starting a text instead.

[I herd you’r sick. Howd you get so weak.]

Then another.

[Com to my huose. Mesani can treet you. Yu’ll get better rite away.]

And another.

[If yu cant come cus you’r sick, tel me wear your house is. I’ll bring you medicinal water.]

He reread the messages with satisfaction. The concern in them showed clearly enough.

Then he hit send and headed into the kitchen to grab a bowl.

“Hey, Mesan.”

Mesan, who had been sitting at the table writing in his diary, lifted his head with bright, round eyes.

Jaegyeom scratched awkwardly at the side of his nose and held out the bowl.

“Throw up a good one in here.”

“...Huh?”

Jaegyeom hesitated briefly before explaining.

Yoon Taehee was sick. The medicinal water from the Purification Unit apparently hadn’t worked. He looked half-dead. Anyway, the point was that he needed medicinal water for Taehee.

“What? Young master Yoon is sick? Oh no...”

Mesani immediately looked worried and accepted the bowl with both hands.

After meditating quietly for around five minutes, he finally threw up into it.

Jaegyeom carefully poured the contents—no, not vomit, but precious medicinal dew—into an empty water bottle that had been rolling around nearby. Then he sat down on the sofa and waited for Yoon Taehee’s reply.

But in the end, no message ever came.

***

The following evening, while Jaegyeom was getting ready for work, his phone rang.

[Yoon Taehee]

“...”

The moment he saw the name, he picked up immediately.

[Hello.]

The familiar voice on the other end oddly relieved him.

It sounded normal.

So he’d recovered?

Jaegyeom quickly organized his thoughts.

How are you feeling?

And by the way, you fucking asshole, I texted because I was worried and you couldn’t even reply once? You’ve always been like this. I was stupid for thinking we could get along again. Fine. Do whatever you want. You don’t mean anything to me anyway—

[My lord.]

Fortunately, Taehee spoke first.

The familiar address—one they had used before things soured between them—instantly dissolved the sharp words Jaegyeom had been preparing.

“What.”

[Where are you?]

“Why?”

[If you haven’t left yet, should we go to work together? I’m outside your gate right now.]

Startled, Jaegyeom immediately hung up and headed outside.

Sure enough, Yoon Taehee’s sedan was parked in front of the house.

Jaegyeom walked briskly over to the passenger side. The window lowered with a soft hum, and Taehee, seated in the driver’s seat, leaned slightly toward him and waved lazily.

“Hi. Long time no see. It’s been three days.”

“...”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah.”

Keeping a deliberately indifferent expression, Jaegyeom climbed into the passenger seat.

Apparently, his earlier declaration that he would never ride in Taehee’s car again had already vanished from memory.

The sedan glided smoothly out of the alley.

Sneaking a glance sideways, Jaegyeom noticed Taehee still looked faintly worn down, like he had been through hell for the past few days.

“...How’s your health?”

After fidgeting with his fingers for a while, Jaegyeom finally asked the question as casually as he could.

During those two days in bed, Yoon Taehee had spent most of his time organizing his thoughts.

“I’m fine now. I recovered.”

Suppressing his emotions and concealing his real feelings was something Taehee had always excelled at.

He had been doing it for the last ten years. He didn’t think this time would be any different.

But the feelings he thought he had buried had continued piling up inside him until they finally became a fever.

The biggest problem was that Yoon Taehee himself still didn’t know exactly what he wanted from Jaegyeom.

He was competent at almost everything else in life.

But when it came to his own emotions, he was inexperienced.

So he decided to take a step back.

For the rigid and absolute Yoon Taehee, it was the first defeat of his life.

After stepping back, he asked himself:

What do I want from him right now?

And:

What should I do?

What I want from you right now...

...is to sit across from you and share meals together. Exchange stupid jokes once in a while. Pick you up and drive you home sometimes.

And what I should do is...

Be satisfied with only that much.

And after succeeding in my revenge, watch you fail.

Would that truly be enough for him?

Would it really?

But Yoon Taehee still couldn’t answer that ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ question.

No—

he deliberately refused to answer it.

He wanted to believe it would be enough.

Because every time he looked back, he had always failed when it came to Jaegyeom.

“Have you eaten yet?”

With those thoughts buried inside him, Taehee asked quietly.

“No.”

“Then... would you like to eat with me?”

The car paused briefly at a red light.

Taehee turned his head and looked at Jaegyeom.

“...”

The moment their eyes met, Jaegyeom understood.

This was Yoon Taehee’s attempt at a truce.

He had already sensed it vaguely from the moment Taehee came to pick him up.

Yoon Taehee must want to return to how things used to be too.

They had stayed distant for a while, but maybe something had changed in him. Maybe he had reconsidered things. Or maybe, somehow, he had matured a little.

Either way, getting along was better than constantly clashing.

That had always been Jaegyeom’s position from the beginning.

“Do whatever you want.”

Only after a long silence did Jaegyeom finally answer.

***

Yoon Taehee parked the car and stared up at the signboard.

Dolsoe’s Baekban.

Earlier, he had asked Jaegyeom what he wanted to eat.

Jaegyeom had named a place near headquarters that he had visited a few times with Team 1.

Honestly, Taehee had expected him to say he didn’t care, and had already been planning to take him to an Italian restaurant he had picked out beforehand. Pasta. Wood-fired pizza. Something decent.

But when Jaegyeom unexpectedly named a specific restaurant himself, Taehee changed course without hesitation.

The place Jaegyeom chose turned out to be a shabby little baekban restaurant tucked into a corner of Jongno 2-ga.

“...”

The building looked old enough that its age practically peeled off the walls.

“Dolsoe’s Baekban” was apparently popular with Team 1, but Taehee rarely joined team dinners, so this was his first time here.

When they stepped inside through the sliding door, a few customers were already drinking soju even though it was still early evening.

Jaegyeom, clearly familiar with the place, immediately picked out a table.

Taehee sat down across from him.

An elderly owner with a bent back brought over water and utensils.

“What’ll you have?”

Now that he had gotten used to eating out after joining the Office, Jaegyeom ordered naturally enough.

“One grilled yellow croaker baekban and one grilled mackerel baekban.”

Yoon Taehee stared at the menu for a moment.

He hated fishy smells. He almost never ate fish.

He was about to order something else when—

“What are you getting?”

Jaegyeom looked at him and asked.

...Oh.

He hadn’t ordered for him.

Both of those were apparently for himself.

Knowing Jaegyeom’s appetite, Taehee wisely refrained from asking things like Can you even finish all that?

“Then one beef stew.”

After ordering, Taehee poured water into a cup and placed it in front of Jaegyeom.

Jaegyeom drank from it, then turned toward the television mounted on the wall.

An evening drama was playing.

Noticing how focused he was, Taehee glanced toward the screen as well.

“You like dramas?”

“Mm.”

“What’s this one called?”

With complete seriousness, Jaegyeom answered:

“Precious My Love.”

“...”

Then he calmly started explaining the plot.

Apparently, it was a drama he had watched every day before joining the Office.

Taehee listened quietly.

In the meantime, the grilled fish baekban arrived along with a spread of side dishes.

Taehee pushed the rice bowl toward Jaegyeom.

“Eat first.”

“Okay.”

Jaegyeom opened the lid and scooped up a huge spoonful of rice.

Then he snapped off the yellow croaker’s head and placed it on top.

Yoon Taehee froze.

“Wait. Hold on.”

Looking genuinely horrified, Taehee stopped him before he could take a bite.

“What?”

Jaegyeom paused with the spoon still in his hand.

“...Why are you eating the fish head?”

Taehee’s eyes visibly trembled.

“You’re supposed to eat it. Haven’t you heard the saying? Meat tail, fish head.”

“...”

There was an old saying that the best part of fish was the head, while the best part of meat was the tail.

It wasn’t entirely wrong.

Still...

Actually eating the entire fish head felt insane.

Taehee stared blankly.

No—even if someone did eat the head, weren’t they supposed to pick the meat out carefully instead of crunching through the whole thing?

“You’re seriously just chewing the entire thing?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“...Can you even chew that?”

Jaegyeom nodded casually.

“If you chew properly, you can eat all of it.”

“...”

Back in the old days, fish had been rare and expensive, so people ate the heads too. Fish had been harder to obtain than meat.

After delivering this brief lecture, Jaegyeom resumed eating.

He removed the larger bones, ignored the smaller ones completely, tore the fish apart into rough chunks, piled it over rice, and stuffed his mouth full in huge bites.

Yoon Taehee watched him with fascinated disbelief, chin propped against one hand.

“...Are you a cat?”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Just then, the beef stew arrived, and Taehee finally started eating as well.