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Chapter 31 – Just the Two of Us
Hoyeon looked at Hosik with a mocking gaze.
“You seriously don’t remember? Her name’s so unique.”
“She didn’t even go to our elementary school. How would I know her?”
“Flyers were all over the neighborhood, police were searching every house, there were even helicopters in the sky. Who cares if she didn’t go to your school? Though… yeah, you were kinda dumb as a kid. It was on the news too. I think I was in my first year of high school back then… She was my middle school friend’s niece. Someone named Muru.”
“Wh-whaaaat???”
His niece??? Then that lady Muru is—?
“Muru’s aunt was your friend?”
“Not really a friend. Just someone I knew by face? We weren’t close. She was quiet, and kinda… off. Not that it matters.”
Of course, the part that “didn’t matter” was the most intriguing.
“Off…? What do you mean by that?”
“Ah, forget it. It’s not important, really. Besides, she had to repeat a grade in middle school, so we weren’t even in school together that long.”
“Wait, you can fail middle school?”
“She ran away from home for a long time. Missed an entire semester, so she had to repeat. Her older sister, though—she was stunning. So pretty that people would turn around to stare at her on the street. And she was famous for being sweet. The complete opposite of Muru. Totally opposite.”
What Hosik had heard from Muru was that her relationship with her mother was strained, the house they used to live in was a wreck, her mother wasn’t mentally stable, and Muru had amnesia before the age of 11. None of that matched the image of a “beautiful and kind woman known throughout the neighborhood.”
“That… your old classmate, she only had one sister, right?”
“Yeah, just the two girls. I remember the pretty sister crying on the news. They never caught the culprit, right? Just the kid came back.”
“That’s what I heard.”
“Hey. But…”
For once, Hoyeon got serious.
“That, uh… your friend Muru. She doing okay?”
“Uh… yeah, she’s doing fine…”
“Then good.”
“Why?”
“I said, it’s fine.”
“Whyyy!!!”
“As a fellow local!! I was just concerned!!”
“Okay, fair enough.”
That was the end of the siblings’ “rational” conversation. His sister returned to her yoga mat and resumed a spinal pigeon pose before suddenly asking:
“Hey, but—you do know there were two kids who disappeared that day, right?”
“WHAT?!”
Hosik sprang off the couch again. Maybe it was part of a dowry or something—these cushions were insanely comfy.
[Meanwhile…]
[So]
[You’re]
[Spending the night]
[Alone]
[In that big house]
[Is this]
[Bullying?]
[No, can’t be. It’s not school.]
[So… house bullying?]
Lee Gyeom’s tragic string of texts buzzed through the phone. It was right after Tarim had messaged that they’d be staying out tonight and to eat whatever’s in the fridge for breakfast.
By the time Tarim started typing a short reply, four more messages arrived.
[You didn’t go to Ho-sik’s sister’s place, right?]
[You two just went to the beach together, right?]
[You evil people]
[Do you hate me or what?]
Gyeom’s persecution complex was wide and deep.
Tarim texted back:
[It’s just me and Muru. If you’re scared, tell Hosik to come too.]
The read receipt appeared immediately, but Gyeom said nothing. Tarim put his phone down and looked over at Muru.
“I told him we’re staying over.”
“Mm. Sorry. Feels like it’s just the two of us out on a trip.”
A tiny stab of guilt pierced Park Tarim. He was 28, a man who had lived a life mostly untouched by trivial emotional wounds—but somehow, that simple trio of words, “just the two of us,” “trip,” and “sorry,” left an odd feeling behind.
He cracked open his third beer and began analyzing her unique worldview.
Muru had gone through a shocking moment earlier, and after washing off the mud, they’d rented a room for the night. Spending the night in a room with a view of the sea, then walking along the beach in the morning—it sounded like something that might bring her comfort.
“Wanna just stay the night?” he had asked. Her eyes had sparkled: “Yes!”
It wasn’t even a plan, but his heart had fluttered a little.
Of course, it’s not like their relationship is anything specific or serious but…
…he thought of that night again. The night he’d spent at his first love’s house. Technically, all their “firsts” had happened back when they were little kids—but that night? That was different. It was too special to brush aside.
And the next morning, when he woke up happy, she had said, “Let’s just be friends.” His heart had sunk.
Sure, he’d agreed to be friends. That was on him. Tarim munched bitterly on dried fish jerky and guzzled down his beer.
It was already 9 p.m. No bed in the room—it was more like a one-room guesthouse. Just the two of them, sitting across from each other, and Muru had been fiddling with her phone for a while now.
Buzz. The phone vibrated again—definitely Gyeom.
[You two are dating, huh?]
[That whole “we’re getting married” joke at the chief’s place wasn’t a joke, huh?]
[Where’s the wedding?]
[Bongrim-dong Community Center?]
[Wait no—]
[You already have two kids, don’t you?]
[First one’s “Give us this day,” second’s “Lead us not into temptation.”]
Tarim was getting seriously annoyed. Dating?! All that other nonsense aside—dating?! He chugged his fourth Tsingtao.
“Whoa… Tarim.”
As she watched his Adam’s apple bob with every gulp, Muru said:
“You like Tsingtao, huh?”
Crunch. Tarim crushed the empty can in one hand. Sitting by the window that faced the mudflats, Muru was on her third lemon highball. She’d downed the first two fast, saying they were sweet and delicious, and now she was giggling away. Pretty.
“Tsingtao tastes like German beer.”
Tarim gritted his teeth and started explaining the random history of Tsingtao. Somewhere mid-rant, he got bitter.
“Back when Germany was an empire, they invaded Shandong, found the water in Qingdao amazing, built a brewery, then lost the war and left. So now China has this beer brewed with German technique. Meanwhile, modern German beer has changed so much, Tsingtao is the closest to OG German beer—what am I even saying?”
Muru giggled at the kind of story only a factory rep should be telling, and Tarim was confused by his own emotions.
“Muru.”
“Yeah?”
“You okay?”
Half of him was asking himself: Tarim, are you okay? She doesn’t have feelings for you, remember? But hey, didn’t you agree to stay friends? That ridiculously unfair treaty? You signed it. You.
“Are you… really okay?”
“Hehe.” Muru giggled like a child and flopped onto the floor mattress.
“I get tipsy fast…”
“You drank a lot.”
“The dried fish and highball combo just keeps going down, haha.”
Even in that state, she was cute. Tarim slapped his own cheeks.
“Why are you hitting yourself, our sweet Tarim~?”
“I’m driving out the devil inside me.”
“Huuh? You’re possessed?”
Muru suddenly sprang up and cupped his cheeks with both hands. She tilted his head this way and that.
“…What are you doing?”
“Seeing where the devil’s hiding.”
It was adorable. Her small hands were warm. A sigh came from deep in his gut.
“Phew…”
Then Muru narrowed her eyes and, still holding his face, smacked both his cheeks.
“No sighing allowed!”
“Wh—? What?”
Maybe she didn’t realize her strength while drunk—his cheeks stung.
“Sighing… makes people sad!”
Fair point, but when did she get this drunk? Or was he also tipsy? He wasn’t the kind of guy to sigh dramatically in someone’s face…
“You’re right, that was my bad. I won’t sigh again.”
Muru giggled gleefully and flopped back onto the bedding.
“Muru.”
“Mm?”
“Lie down and listen, okay? So, like… you see…”
She rubbed her cheek into a pillow that had “Mudflat Guesthouse” stitched on it.
“I know it’s probably not the best time to ask, especially with everything going on today… and your situation too… so asking this probably makes me sound like a shallow, immature jerk—but it’s not that. I just want to understand a little, or more like, I’m trying to… collect myself…”
Yeah, I don’t know what I’m saying either. And she didn’t seem to, either. Her tiny finger tugged at the hem of his pants.
“What are you trying to sayyy?”
“Do you… like me?”
The finger stopped. Muru, face buried in the pillow with only her eyes showing, gave up on the pants and rubbed the floor with her palm.
“Well… I mean, it’s not like I dislike you.”
“I mean, for me… even now…”
I’m head over heels. You’re adorable. I’m going crazy. Just as he was about to spit it out—
Buzz buzz.
“…I’m blocking Lee Gyeom.”
He snatched up his phone to check the notification—nothing.
“…That’s mine!”
The vibration came from Muru’s phone. She picked it up from the floor between them and tapped the screen.
It was a DM notification—from Instagram.
Caught off guard, Tarim looked at the screen too.
