TBML 79

Once Hyunhak had left, everything went quiet. Previously, the sounds of the chickens in the backyard could be heard from time to time, but today, even they were quiet. This was because they were all busy huddling together in sunny spots, dozing off amidst the lingering snow and chilly weather.

Judging by the chickens’ behavior, it was a peaceful morning, but to Yiyeon, that silent peace felt only disturbing. It was a familiar house where he knew the location of every object as well as the palm of his hand. Though he hadn’t lived there very long, fond memories surfaced wherever his gaze fell.

Right in the front yard Yiyeon was looking at, a snow sculpture Hyunhak had made lay shattered on the ground. The crow had pecked at the snow sculpture Hyunhak had carefully built. The image of Hyunhak getting angry at the crow for pecking at the snow sculpture was vivid in his mind, and he had no bad memories, only happy ones, like building a snowman in that very front yard or hanging laundry together.

Even though it was a space filled with such happy memories, when he stood there alone, even the spot cast in the shadow of the wooden veranda felt gloomy and foreboding.

He felt anxious, as if an intruder might appear the moment he unlocked the kitchen door, and the walls, blackened by the heat of the fire, looked like the shadow of a stranger watching him; Yiyeon shuddered. It was just the house where he’d stayed every day, and Hyunhak was simply away, yet he felt restless.

Hyunhak was the one who was always away every morning. It wasn’t as if a house without Hyunhak was anything new, so why was he feeling this way? Even if he didn’t notice his absence until morning, by the time Yiyeon got up and tried to move, Hyunhak would already be back.

But today was different. The items he had recited the night before were so numerous that it would be difficult to memorize them all, and no matter how diligently he went about gathering them, he would surely not return until the middle of the night. That meant, unlike usual, there was no telling when Hyunhak would return.

And that made Yiyeon anxious. What would he do if his master never returned?

The look of disappointment he had briefly seen on Hyunhak’s face kept haunting him. Should he have gone after him, even if it meant straining every nerve? But…

Regretting what could no longer be undone, Yiyeon locked the door. The forest, which had been so picturesque when he was with Hyunhak, now looked like a ghost with disheveled hair beckoning to him. The person he longed for had already left; opening the door and looking out into visit our sitethe front yard wouldn’t make him return. It would only make him imagine things that weren’t there. He decided it would be better not to look at all.

Like the calm before a storm, the peace felt to Yiyeon like thin ice that would soon shatter.

Even the crow was unusually quiet today.

To shake off his dark thoughts and find something to focus on, Yiyeon rummaged through the room. He arranged the books Hyunhak had haphazardly piled up and swept the floor. The room was now so spotless– a far cry from how dusty it had been at first –that there was hardly anything left to clean.

He eventually ran out of things to do again, so he sat alone in the room before looking at his matchlock rifle standing in the corner. It was the first of Yiyeon’s belongings that Hyunhak had brought into the room on the day of the blizzard. He hadn’t unwrapped it even once since leaving it behind in that house.

It had once been an item he maintained almost daily and never let out of his sight. He had once cherished it more than his own life, terrified of how he could possibly live a single day without it, yet now that it was so far away again, he had completely forgotten about it, as if he had never felt such attachment. Even though it stood right there in the corner of the room, he hadn’t noticed it all this time. Only when Hyunhak was gone and he was alone did it finally catch Yiyeon’s eye.

Yiyeon carefully unwrapped the bundle and examined the matchlock. Thankfully, Hyunhak must have gathered all the items Yiyeon had forgotten, for everything needed to maintain and reload the gun was thoughtfully packed inside the bundle.

Yiyeon picked up the matchlock and briefly aimed it. Perhaps because his impaired hand was his left one, handling the gun wasn’t as difficult as he’d expected. He could now raise and lower his arm fairly well and move his fingers to some extent; though he was a bit slow, he felt that if he set his mind to it, he could certainly reload and even go hunting.

Yiyeon gently ran his fingers along the barrel and soon began to clean it slowly. Even though he had resolved never to pick up a gun again, it had sustained his life all this time, so it didn’t seem right to just leave it gathering dust in a corner. With great reverence, Yiyeon wiped down the scratched barrel and brushed away the accumulated gunpowder residue.

Clink, clink– the sound of metal rubbing against metal continued, but suddenly, a rustle– a sound Yiyeon hadn’t made –brushed past his ear.

A shiver ran down his spine.

Upon hearing the sound of something rummaging in the courtyard, Yiyeon stopped what he was doing and stared at the tightly closed door. It was still too early for Hyunhak to return. Given the time of day, he couldn’t have even reached the village yet, and if it were Hyunhak, he would have come looking for Yiyeon first.

Wondering if he might have misheard it, Yiyeon held his breath and focused on the sound outside the door. Could it be that the crow or a chicken had knocked something over? He wondered why the crow was so quiet today; he wished he would caw once, long and loud, as he usually did.

Rustle, rustle. Thud!

When he heard the sound from beyond the door once more, Yiyeon clutched his matchlock. It wasn’t the sound of a crow or a chicken. It was the sound of someone moving objects and checking inside. And then he heard the sound of footsteps crunching through the snow.

Yiyeon held the matchlock to his chest, and crawled on his knees toward the door to ask who it was, but instead of opening his mouth, he pursed his lips. If he asked who it was and received an answer, wouldn’t that ultimately mean the noise coming from outside was made by a person? What if the thing outside was indeed a human?

The mere thought that the uninvited guest who had entered the empty house might be a person left Yiyeon unable to breathe.

Yiyeon exhaled raggedly, as if someone was strangling him. It sounded as though he were struggling to breathe through a tiny slit.

It wasn’t just the sound, his face turned pale and his lips turned a deep blue. Yet even then, Yiyeon did not let go of the matchlock in his arms. No, on the contrary, determined to shoot anyone who opened the door and entered, he aimed the unloaded rifle at the doorway.

Thud, thud– the sound of footsteps, undoubtedly those of a person, and the clatter of furniture being knocked over continued. Soon, a dark shadow suddenly loomed over the doorway. Out of breath and pale– no, blue –with fear, Yiyeon could no longer hold on; he clutched his chest and bent over. His forehead touched the floor, and the hard barrel of the gun he held pressed against his chest.

With his forehead pressed against the ground, Yiyeon struggled to breathe. Just as he started feeling dizzy and his [stolen content]consciousness began to fade, Hyunhak’s face flashed before his eyes.

“My Lord….”

Even when he spent time with Hyunhak, unexpected sounds had sometimes come from outside. It hadn’t bothered him back then, but now, simply because Hyunhak wasn’t there, every corner of his once-comfortable home felt scary, and whatever was standing outside the door felt like a grim reaper come to claim him.

I’m scared. I’m so scared I can’t breathe. Yiyeon’s mind was filled with nothing but Hyunhak.

“My Lord, please… My Lord, I’m so scared. Hurry, hurry back. Please.”

If he’d known it would come to this, he would have followed him, even if he had to grit his teeth to do so.

How long had he been standing there? The sun had already set in the meantime, but Yiyeon had no idea when Hyunhak would return.

With his forehead pressed against the floor, Yiyeon wept silently. He desperately hoped that Hyunhak would open that door and call out to him, “Yeon-ah.” Cold sweat poured down his body, and his curled-up limbs trembled.

The crow, who had been silent outside the door the whole time, suddenly burst into a raucous cawing, but Yiyeon felt his mind growing hazy. He tried to regain his composure, but neither his body, nor his mind, nor his thoughts, nothing was under his control.

Just as his vision began to flicker, the scene from that day– the day Yiyeon could not remember –unfolded before his eyes. A stinging, numbing pain; that sensation of life draining from his body. Though his hands were softer than a farmer’s, his movements alone were as repulsive as a snake slithering across his skin.

The ragged breathing he heard in his ears wasn’t Yiyeon’s. As the man lying on top of him lifted his stolen contenthips, his unforgettable face came into view.

A face grinning with vileness. It was Young Master Seo’s face.

Yes, he had been just as helpless that day. Unable to move a single finger or offer any resistance, all he could do was barely keep breathing. Even as that bastard Seo pulled down his pants, exposing his buttocks completely, he couldn’t stop him and could only weep.

Yiyeon’s blank memories began to slowly fill in. Every time that disgusting, trash-like man’s erect penis brushed against the cleft of his buttocks, it felt as though he were falling into an abyss from which he could never climb back out.

Just as he was about to close his eyes to what was about to happen, Yiyeon of that day came face to face with two yellow eyes glinting in the darkness. A scream ringing in his ears and the smell of blood tickling his nose. After that, he saw nothing.

Why hadn’t the black tiger devoured him that day? Was he in such a pitiful state that he had assumed he was already dead? Should he be relieved that he hadn’t been eaten by the tiger, or should he find comfort in the fact that, though he was no woman, he had preserved the purity of his hole?

Even though that place– which had always been black and empty, filling him with anxiety –was now filled, Yiyeon felt neither joy nor relief. Was he truly clean, when not only had those men groped his entire body, but he had also been drenched in that man’s blood? And what would happen if he were walking around unscathed while a nobleman lay dead? Yiyeon could not free himself from any of these fears.

He should have died that day. If he had died and vanished alongside Young Master Seo and that Byun, everything would have been settled.

Unable to tell right from wrong, Yiyeon barely managed to pull himself up and pressed his forehead against the muzzle of the gun. It was a matchlock that hadn’t even been loaded or fired, but Yiyeon was in no state of mind to care.

As he sat there, crying, with the muzzle pressed against the center of his forehead, the door suddenly opened.