1.5

Junmo tossed and turned in bed.  

The tidal wave of sleep that had been threatening to pull him under earlier had now fled, like a startled fawn. His body felt heavy, as though sinking into the ground, but his mind was unnervingly clear. Memories from long ago came rushing back as vividly as if they had happened just yesterday.  

The clock read 2 a.m.  

Rubbing his face with his palm, Junmo abruptly got out of bed. He felt like he needed to do something—anything—even if it meant running under the moonlight like a madman, just to tire himself out enough to sleep.  

‘Oppa.’  

Leeseo had definitely called Junmo that at the hospital lobby cafe.

* * *

“Ugh—here’s the last box!”  

The moving company worker entered through the wide-open front door, carrying the final box.  

“Just leave that by the entrance, please.”  

Relieved that he didn’t have to take off and put on his shoes again, the worker’s face showed his satisfaction.  

“You’ve worked hard.”  

Barely responding to Leeseo’s polite thanks, the worker left, and the front door closed behind him. Leeseo slowly stepped into the living room.  

A unique stillness, the kind only present in empty spaces, enveloped her. She listened to the faint laughter of children playing in the distant playground as she looked around.  

The living room contained only a dark gray leather sofa, a TV that occupied much of the wall opposite it, and a chest of drawers that had likely been there since the house was first occupied. None of the furniture reflected Junmo’s personality, yet the sight perfectly captured his indifferent nature.  

She had thought there wouldn’t be much to move, but…  

Moving was moving. It was a lot of work. Even though she had left the furniture behind and only packed clothes, books, and art supplies, a one-ton truck had been necessary to transport everything.  

For someone living alone, he sure had a lot of stuff.  

Sorting through the closet alone had filled a large box with clothes for donation. Shoes he never wore, books, and kitchenware had also been discarded or given away, yet there were still seven boxes of varying sizes.  

‘Do as you like.’  

That had been Junmo’s response when she asked which room she should use. She had wanted to ask more questions, but he had abruptly hung up, clearly busy.  

How cold he had been.  

Choosing a room wasn’t difficult. Besides the main bedroom, there were three other rooms. One was locked, another was filled with desks, bookshelves, and books, and the last one was completely empty. There wasn’t much to decide.  

Even that small task had left her thirsty. Leeseo headed straight to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.  

Inside were a few cans of beer and six neatly arranged bottles of water—nothing else. She took out a bottle, twisted off the cap, and looked around for a cup.  

The kitchen was spotless—too spotless. There was absolutely nothing, not even a drinking glass. Now that she thought about it, there weren’t even water stains in the sink.  

“I’ll need to stock the fridge…”  

Closing the refrigerator door, she took a sip of water straight from the bottle, then opened the cabinets in front of her. They were empty. She opened the next one, and the one after that—all empty.  

When she opened the cabinet under the sink, she finally found something: two pots, neatly stacked soup bowls and rice bowls, and an electric pressure cooker still in its box, unused.  

The kitchen showed no signs of anyone ever cooking there. At this point, she began to wonder if Junmo even came home at all.  

“There’s so much to buy.”  

Just as she was about to take another sip of water, her phone, resting on the kitchen island, began vibrating noisily. After taking one last gulp, she set the bottle down and checked the screen.  

It was a text message from Oh Soohyun, Junmo’s mother and Leeseo’s boss.  

[Let’s meet at the house tomorrow morning before work.]  

Reading the message, Leeseo felt a tightening in her chest, unrelated to the content itself.  

What if Oh Soohyun found out that I had moved into Junmo’s house?  

Shaking her head, she quickly dismissed the ominous thought.  

Just one month. Just one month.  

***

Walking through the gate, Leeseo suddenly stopped.  

The surroundings feel unfamiliar.  

This was the house she had moved into when she was nine and had lived in until she was nineteen. Even after that, she visited frequently. Yet now, the scenery felt new, almost unrecognizable.  

The yard was paved with broad, flat stones fitted together like a puzzle. Grass filled the gaps between the stones, meticulously maintained. Trumpet creeper vines climbed the pillars to the second floor, where they overtook the balcony. Gracefully shaped pine and cedar trees adorned the yard, while a cucumber tree stood guard at the boundary wall, alongside a quince tree that bloomed with deep red flowers in spring.  

It was a garden Mr. Gong had poured his heart into, featuring a unique combination of plants rarely seen elsewhere.  

“Oh my, Leeseo!”

Mr. Gong, standing on a ladder leaned against a cedar tree with large pruning shears in hand, spotted Leeseo and greeted her warmly. His cheerful smile seemed out of place for his large frame.  

“Why are you pruning the trees when it’s not even spring?”  

Shielding her eyes from the sunlight with her palm, Leeseo looked up at Mr. Gong and asked.  

“Why else? The Madam in the main bedroom kept nagging about how the view was getting worse…”  

He spat out the words roughly, then glanced nervously toward the house. Watching him, Leeseo smiled faintly. That was just how Mr. Gong was. He had never once complied with his employer’s requests without grumbling. He would do the work he was told to do, but always with a dissatisfied expression, as if reluctantly fulfilling his duties. Yet, the fact that he had managed to avoid being fired all this time spoke volumes about his competence.  

“What brings you here so early in the morning?”  

“The CEO asked me to stop by for a bit.”  

As she answered, Leeseo began picking up the fallen branches beneath the tree. They were likely branches growing inward, straight toward the sky, or small twigs sprouting from the trunk. The distinctive smell of the tree tickled her nose. The scent of a wounded tree was particularly strong, much like the intense smell of grass on days when Mr. Gong mowed the lawn. Gathering the branches one by one, she tossed them onto a one-wheeled cart.  

“Leave it. You’ll get tree sap on your hands. It’s sticky and hard to wash off—why bother?”  

Mr. Gong climbed down the ladder backward. He wiped the sweat from his face with the towel draped around his neck.  

Noticing the tattoo on his arm, which was exposed under his short sleeves, Leeseo maintained a quiet smile. The tattoo, etched across his forearm, was the face of a massive tiger.  

The first time she had seen Mr. Gong’s tattoo was shortly after she had moved into the house. Back then, adjusting to the new school she had transferred to hadn’t been easy for her.  

The problem had been her homeroom teacher’s sudden change in attitude. Upon learning that Leeseo was neither a relative nor a family member of Junmo and Junhyung, the teacher had seemed upset, as if feeling deceived. The teacher openly accused her of being a liar, even though Leeseo hadn’t said a word, let alone lied.  

Naturally, she became a target for the students’ scorn and subtle bullying. The silent disregard was bearable, but the bullying was a different story. Once the teacher’s sarcastic remarks became blatant, the students’ petty behavior grew more aggressive.  

It was spring, the season for pruning trees, but for her, it had been a gloomy time.  

Back then, Mr. Gong didn’t talk much and wasn’t particularly warm, but he didn’t shoo her away when she lingered nearby. One day, Leeseo left the house as if heading to school but secretly returned home. She had known that Junmo’s family would all be out at school or work.  

Mr. Gong had been there that day too. He glanced at her briefly but didn’t ask any questions.  

“Do you think trees feel pain?”  

She had asked this after watching the green, tender branches fall to the ground with every ruthless snip of the large pruning shears. Standing tall in the morning sunlight, the tree looked as if it were in pain.  

Only then did Mr. Gong glance at her with a slightly annoyed expression.  

“Better to lose a few branches than to be uprooted entirely.”  

His tone was curt.  

Leeseo didn’t immediately understand what he meant, so she simply stared at him.  

“The owner of this house says any tree that grows wild and looks bad should be uprooted on the spot. It’s better for the tree to have a few branches trimmed and stay rooted, don’t you think?”  

Even though she didn’t fully grasp whether losing branches or being uprooted was worse for the tree, she nodded slowly.  

Mr. Gong began listing all the problems that could arise if a tree grew too large. A tree casting shadows on the house was unacceptable. A tree blocking the view from the house was unacceptable. A tree could fall during a typhoon. Trees needed to be regularly pruned to grow to a size appropriate for the garden.  

As she listened to his explanation, which somehow felt like an excuse, Leeseo kept nodding.  

“Why aren’t you at school?”  

Mr. Gong suddenly asked. It was an abrupt question.  

Leeseo, who had been helping by picking up fallen branches, bit her lip tightly. Here was an opportunity—a chance to say what no one had ever asked about, something she couldn’t share with anyone. But instead of words, tears came first. For some reason, the warmth in Mr. Gong’s voice stirred up her sadness even more.  

Her lips trembled, and her chin quivered.  

When Mr. Gong climbed down from the tall ladder, his large frame cast a shadow that completely covered Leeseo’s small body. He looked down at her as she sniffled and cried, then took off one of his work gloves and used the clean side to wipe her tear-streaked cheek.  

“Blow your nose.”  

“Sniff!”  

He even wiped her runny nose.  

“Do you just not want to go to school at all?”  

Leeseo only nodded her head.