Honbul: Flame of the Soul

“By the way, friend—how old are you?”

The abrupt question made Jaegyeom’s face harden.

“...”

As he struggled to regain his composure, Jeongju’s words flashed through his mind. Jeongju had given him advice for situations like this. According to him, modern people lived by fixed assumptions, so if someone asked your age, you did not actually have to state a number. You could just tell them your grade, and they would take that as your age.

Putting on an air of calm, Jaegyeom answered,

“I’m a second-year in high school.”

The young man asked again, his voice lightly amused.

“Yes. So how old are you?”

Not your grade. Your age. He added the clarification kindly as he took the book from Jaegyeom’s hands. The weight that had filled his palms vanished in an instant, leaving them strangely empty. Kim Jaegyeom and Yoon Taehee looked straight at each other. Something taut and sharp passed between them, as if the two of them had stepped into a silent contest of nerves.

“...”

So much for Jeongju’s prediction that naming his grade would be enough. Jaegyeom went silent for a moment, his words cut off. The one fortunate thing was that, at a glance, his expression did not look very different from usual. The young man never let anything slip by. Every time Jaegyeom thought, This should be enough, the other man came one step closer than that. He had done it yesterday. He was doing it again today.

In that brief instant, while forcing down his unease, Jaegyeom abruptly threw a question back instead.

“H-how old is a second-year in high school supposed to be?”

“Hm... Usually eighteen, I guess.”

After a short pause spent calculating, Jaegyeom lifted his chin.

“Then I’ll go with that.”

“...”

For a few blinks, Yoon Taehee only stared at him, as if he had not quite processed what he had just heard. Then a laugh broke loose from him.

I’ll go with that? What was that supposed to be? He sounded like someone picking a menu item at a Chinese restaurant.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You said eighteen was the usual age, didn’t you? If you already know that, why ask?”

“Because no matter how I look at you, friend, you don’t seem ordinary.”

There was something strangely loaded about the remark. Jaegyeom’s brow drew together faintly.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You seem awfully comfortable with classical characters.”

Murmuring that in passing, Yoon Taehee slid the book in his hand onto the shelf. Classical characters? Why was he suddenly bringing that up... As Jaegyeom turned the words over in his head, his gaze drifted to the shelf.

Crown Village Essays.

The title stood there in large classical characters, with no modern script beside it.

“...”

Damn it.

For the briefest instant, dismay flashed across Jaegyeom’s eyes and vanished.

“People these days usually find classical characters pretty unfamiliar, but you recognized foot and inch too. So I was wondering if maybe you were secretly from a very long time ago, or maybe older than you look. Something like that.”

Yoon Taehee checked the now tightly packed shelf one last time and tossed out the line in an easy, joking tone. Jaegyeom, stung, watched the man’s careful hands moving over the books in silence.

Was he saying that because he actually knew something? Whatever the case, pretending otherwise would benefit him more for now. Jaegyeom opened his mouth, haltingly.

“Even if someone... isn’t old, they could still be good with classical characters.”

“Could they?”

“So I guess anyone who’s good at a foreign language must be a foreigner too.”

At that muttered line, Yoon Taehee turned his head sharply and met his eyes.

“...”

He looked as though the argument had caught him off guard. In a way, it was oddly convincing. When their eyes met, Yoon Taehee slowly arched one brow.

“And you recognized it too, didn’t you? Even though you’re one of these modern people.”

Yoon Taehee only looked at him after that addition. Well, when you put it that way, Jaegyeom was not exactly wrong. Jaegyeom endured the stare blankly for a few seconds, then finally looked away as if dodging the subject. A flat little smile hung from the corner of Yoon Taehee’s mouth. He looked perfectly willing to concede the point.

“That’s true...”

He dusted off his hands with a few light pats, then walked over to the desk and pulled open the drawer where he had taken out the bandages yesterday. After a moment of rustling, he drew out several wet wipes and handed some of them to Jaegyeom.

“I was only teasing.”

Perching sideways on the desk, Yoon Taehee began meticulously wiping his hands. The bright white wet wipe turned grimy almost at once. There was more ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) dust on the long-neglected books than he had expected. Jaegyeom, quietly watching his expression, ended up kneading the wet wipe in his own hands and following suit. It felt cool and refreshing, just damp enough.

“What does age matter, anyway? In the end, it’s just a numbers game.”

“Well... I guess.”

“I don’t care about age.”

“...”

Jaegyeom wanted to get out of here as fast as possible. More precisely, he did not want to be here with the young librarian. Everything the man said seemed designed, somehow, to put him in an awkward position.

The librarian had shown interest in him from the beginning. He had kept extending him kindness. And yet the more he did, the more strongly Jaegyeom felt—without proof, but with absolute certainty—that getting close to this man would be a bad idea.

Jo Youngwoo was one thing. They were in the same class, and Youngwoo sat right in front of him, so that was different. But this man was kind beyond reason, and he had a habit of abruptly closing the distance whenever Jaegyeom least expected it. Jaegyeom found that unbearably uncomfortable.

Besides, the man had been the one to lend him the tie in the first place, and then all of a sudden he had turned around and asked for help...

Still, a debt was a debt, and now it had been repaid. There was no reason for them to get entangled again after this. The tray was empty, the shelves were in order, and there was no longer any reason for him to stay in the library.

“That’s everything you needed help with, right?”

“Yes. Thanks to you.”

Jaegyeom wiped his hands off roughly, then tossed the dirty wet wipe into a nearby trash can. While he was at it, he pulled out the tissue that had been plugged into one nostril and threw that away too. Then he slung his bag over his shoulder and walked over to where Yoon Taehee sat perched on the tall desk as though it were a chair, stopping right in front of him. He intended to return the tie and leave for good.

He lifted a hand toward his collar to undo it.

At that exact moment, Yoon Taehee caught the hanging end of the tie first and gave it a tug.

Jaegyeom, who had been standing a step away, stumbled forward under the sudden pull. The smell of cologne swept over him, and the distance between them vanished before he could react. Jaegyeom’s eyes narrowed sharply.

“I’ve heard age doesn’t matter when it comes to friendship either.”

Because he was sitting on the desk, Yoon Taehee’s gaze fell slightly lower than usual as he looked at Jaegyeom.

“Even an old man and a child can be friends, if they get along.”

“What?”

“In terms of age, I’m quite a bit older than you, friend. But we could still be friends.”

“So?”

With a bright smile, Yoon Taehee whispered,

“How about we really become friends?”

Jaegyeom’s expression stiffened in a peculiar way.

“...Why?”

“Why? Because I want to be your friend.”

“I said why?”

“Because I want to get close to you.”

“...”

“I don’t know anyone at this school, and I haven’t been here long. It gets pretty lonely.”

Yoon Taehee murmured the words with his eyes lowered. The tie was still in his hand.

For a moment, Jaegyeom could not answer. His gaze traveled slowly from Yoon Taehee’s head to his feet. Somehow, he had ended up standing between the other man’s legs as Yoon Taehee sat on the desk. That was how close they were.

“I don’t want to.”

Frowning, Jaegyeom smacked the back of the hand holding the tie. Yoon Taehee’s eyes went round as he looked down at his own hand. Jaegyeom immediately stepped back and put distance between them again.

Then he untied the tie at once. Without ceremony, he flung it over its owner’s shoulder.

“...Why?”

This time it was Yoon Taehee asking, in the same way Jaegyeom had just done. Jaegyeom answered calmly, looking as though he had been asked something so obvious it barely deserved a response.

“Why? Because I don’t want to get close to you.”

*****

After Jaegyeom left, Yoon Taehee remained alone in the silent library, sunk in thought.

He sat loosely in a chair with his long legs crossed, gently rocking himself. Each time he moved, the chair swiveled lightly and then drifted back into place. Beyond the windows, the sunset at dusk washed the library in orange light.

After a while, he lifted his head and checked the clock on the wall. It was long past the time he should have gone home. Rising from his seat, Yoon Taehee walked to the door and locked the library. Then he rummaged through the bag he had set in the corner of the desk that morning when he came in.

Deep inside was a fine silk pouch.

Yoon Taehee opened his palm at once and carefully poured the contents of the pouch onto it.

It was a bead bracelet.

Each bead was about the size of a fifty-won coin, and each was a black pearl—the kind of rare, costly gem known for being exceptionally precious. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

Even in its pitch-black darkness, the black pearls gave off a deep, luminous gleam. Their color shifted strangely from moment to moment. At one instant they seemed tinged with red, then with yellow, and then, somehow, they shone pure white.

Yoon Taehee had no particular interest in how expensive black pearls were. The pearls themselves were not what mattered. What mattered was what resided inside them.

That was Yoon Taehee’s treasure.

Expressionless, he laid the bracelet across the center of his palm and closed his eyes. Focusing all his senses into the feeling in his hand, he began to count through the pearls one by one with steady care, as if rolling prayer beads between his fingers.

At some point, a soft breeze drifted into the library.

Cool air swept through Yoon Taehee’s hair. Yet every opening that connected the room to the outside—the windows, the door—was shut tight. The fringe that had naturally fallen to either side of his part slowly began to lift into the air.

That was when Yoon Taehee stopped moving his fingers and opened his eyes, sharp and sudden.

“Found you.”

The hard line of his gaze melted at once. Among all the black pearls hanging from the bracelet, he had found the presence he wanted in one of them. To the eye, they all looked identical, but what each one contained was entirely different, so it took no small amount of concentration. Yoon Taehee pressed a kiss to the black pearl his fingertips had just landed on.

“Saero.”

He spoke the name in a low voice, his lips still resting against the pearl.

At once, the wind that had filled the library died away. The currents in the room settled just as quietly.

After standing still for a moment, Yoon Taehee pulled his lips away and turned his head to the side.

Someone was there, kneeling on one knee with his head bowed.

Yoon Taehee looked down at the figure who had appeared in the library without a sound or trace of presence.

The appearance of the one called Saero was rather distinctive. His short hair curled all over as though it had been permed, and the cardigan hanging over his ragged T-shirt was covered in a dizzying, incomprehensible pattern.

It was rainbow-colored, too.

You never change.

Smiling, Yoon Taehee greeted him.

“Hello, Saero.”

“I’ve been waiting and waiting for when you’d finally call me.”

Sunset light poured through the large windows like spilled paint. The deep orange glow slowly swallowed Yoon Taehee, standing there at an angle and looking down at Saero, and Saero, looking up at Yoon Taehee from the lowest place in the room.

By then, the sunset had already cast a long shadow across the floor.

There was only one shadow stretched between them.

“Spirit Saero has come, Taehee.”

Yoon Taehee brushed his disordered hair back.