At my answer, his round eyes widened as if in surprise. It didn't take long for me to recall the Ha Yeoul I knew after he suddenly asked if we really weren't friends, and then to spit out the answer that we weren't.
To say that the three of us and Ha Yeoul were friends was a bit of a contradiction.
The beginning of my faint memories was a winter when he was either six or eight, I'm not sure which. Like the innately weak Ha Yeoul, his mother, who was as frail as the current Ha Yeoul, passed away during that cold season.
The afterimage of that day surfaced in my hazy memory.
The long hallway was lined with funeral wreaths, and there was no end to the people coming and going. The small, pale Ha Yeoul, whose face I don't even remember well, seemed to have acted as the chief mourner, coughing with a pale face.
Was it from then? When the 'ajusshi' (uncle/father's friend), pitying his son who was left alone, obsessively kept Ha Yeoul by our side. Ha Yeoul, who at some point began to stand by our side like a shadow, remained like a shadow at ten, at seventeen, and even at twenty-two.
We were connected through our families. My parents, as well as the parents of the other two, took care of Ha Yeoul with great affection, pitying him for losing his mother at such a young age. We too naturally kept Ha Yeoul by our side.
If we had been of the opposite sex, the relationship might have been different, but unfortunately, all four of us were boys. We were together out of a sense of duty and brainwashing to take good care of Ha Yeoul, but he, who had nothing in common with the three of us, couldn't easily blend in. We didn't share any tastes or hobbies.
Ambiguous to be called friends.
That was the word that could define the four of us. Not friends, not anything, an ambiguous relationship.
Just as Ha Yeoul wasn't a friend to the three of us, the three of us probably weren't friends to Ha Yeoul either.
Although we were together, looking back, I couldn't even remember what Ha Yeoul looked like. Now, whenever I looked at the face of the Ha Yeoul who was not Ha Yeoul, I would think, 'Did he look like this before?'
As if by promise, we entered the same university, and even when we moved into Seo Jeohoon's villa, Ha Yeoul was with us like a shadow. By now, Ha Yeoul, who stayed by our side so familiarly, was as natural as the passage of time.
Ha Yeoul, who never initiated a conversation, was hard to see even once a week. He was always cooped up in his room as if he were dead, and the only way to confirm his presence was by the faint sound of coughing.
His body, which had been sick throughout elementary, middle, and high school, was not likely to get better just because he went to university. Ha Yeoul spent more days in bed than at school. The 'ajusshi', instead of contacting his son to ask how he was, would occasionally ask us about Ha Yeoul's well-being. And as always, our answer was the same.
'He's the same.'
It didn't take much time for us to understand the meaning behind those words.
Right after entering university, as he started hanging out with Park Min-ah, her visits to our house became frequent. During that time, the three of us were desperate to win Park Min-ah over.
Then, around the time we noticed that Park Min-ah was weighing the three of us, a little annoyance arose. So, we deliberately invited her over and increased the time she spent with all three of us, not just one. What was similar, yet different, in how we treated Park Min-ah and Ha Yeoul was that we didn't let any one person monopolize them.
And yet, we never thought of sharing Park Min-ah. It was a limited emotion we only had for Ha Yeoul. Since Ha Yeoul couldn't become three, the idea that the three of us would share Ha Yeoul equally was revolutionary, but it was also the best possible solution.
The more frequently Park Min-ah visited, the more curious she became about the one room that was always closed. Then one day, I don't even remember when, she ran into Ha Yeoul, who had come out for some reason.
'Hi.'
'…Hi.'
An awkward greeting was exchanged. That was the first day we learned that Ha Yeoul's skin could turn red. His pale skin flushed, and his listless voice became higher. After that, from time to time, when Park Min-ah came over, Ha Yeoul would come out for a moment, only to return to his room after a fleeting cough.
He started talking with us a little, because of Park Min-ah. We couldn't not know that Ha Yeoul liked Park Min-ah. We deliberately invited her to the house more often to give him time with her, but it seemed Ha Yeoul at that time didn't know that.
Ha Yeoul was always as lethargic back then as he is now, as if he were about to die.
At the end of his sporadic coughs, the words 'I'd rather die' became a habit, and while we pitied him, our interest ended there. Poor Ha Yeoul.
Around the time we became indifferent to his habitual phrase 'I'd rather die', the Ha Yeoul we knew changed overnight. It didn't make sense, but he literally changed overnight. Since he was always at home, there was no way he could have had an accident.
Ha Yeoul had a face that suggested he knew nothing, as if he had amnesia, even his own name.
Ha Yeoul, who had never made proper eye contact, started making eye contact and faintly smiling at us. Even if that smile stemmed from awkwardness.
At first, I thought, 'Isn't it time for him to die?' They say when a person suddenly changes, it's their time to die. I found myself observing Ha Yeoul. Just in case he might die.
Then, the absurdity and strangeness I felt when I found him asleep in my room is an emotion that's still hard to explain.
That day was also the first time I stared blankly at Ha Yeoul's features. The long eyelashes under his closed eyes, his high nose bridge, and even the light pink lips situated below it. They captivated my gaze for a long time.
When his trembling eyelids slowly lifted to reveal light brown irises, my heart even pounded loudly with a 'thump'. Did Ha Yeoul look like this?
He still had a sleepy face as he smiled faintly. For the first time, I thought I wanted to kiss the dimple that indented his cheek. And I burst out laughing at Ha Yeoul's subsequent mumble.
'Ah, damn it… you scared me.'
'What?'
'Huh? Ah, no— I… what… what did I say—'
I laughed for a while at his rambling excuses and even personally escorted the awkwardly standing Ha Yeoul back to his room.
After that day, the subtly changed Ha Yeoul exuded a precarious atmosphere, unlike before. As if he were standing on the edge of a cliff.
Before, he used to flinch whenever his name was called, but at some point, he stopped reacting as if someone else was being called. I had to call him several times before he would finally be startled and answer with a 'Hmm'.
Seo Jeohoon, the most affectionate of us, would make a fuss every time, but Ha Yeoul would just smile, his pale cheeks blushing awkwardly.
At first, I was puzzled. Then, as his strange behavior continued, the days I spent observing Ha Yeoul more closely increased, and I paid more attention to him.
Every time, Ha Yeoul's appearance and actions seemed somehow different. When I called his name, a reddish heat would rise on his cheeks, which were always so white they were almost blue. His densely packed eyelashes fluttered over his downcast eyes as if in embarrassment. A faint smile hung on his thin, pale pink lips.
At those moments, my chest would ache. My heart rate seemed to quicken a little, too.
It was a bit impulsive when I asked Ha Yeoul that question.
'Have you spoken with your mother recently? She's very worried because you're sick.'
At my question, Ha Yeoul smiled awkwardly as always, then opened his small mouth and answered.
'Ah… yeah, we haven't talked much lately… I should.'
I felt a sense of unease at his hesitant reply. How on earth was he planning to contact someone who had passed away? Is there a child in the world who doesn't know their own mother is dead? Although he was young, he had even acted as the chief mourner.
With that awkward smile and stammered answer, it was absurd, truly absurd, but a thought crossed my mind: if it wasn't amnesia, maybe the real Ha Yeoul had disappeared somewhere.
'Right, contact her more often. She was very worried. You should go home sometimes, too.'
And it didn't take long for that thought to become a conviction.
Ha Yeoul bit his lip, looking troubled by my sudden urging. I once again carefully examined the face of Ha Yeoul, which had been capturing my attention lately.
A face small enough to be covered by my palm, light brown hair as fair as his white skin. Round, large eyes, the light brown irises within them, and then my gaze shifted to his shyly parted lips.
Did Ha Yeoul look like this? I scanned his strangely unfamiliar face as if licking it. As if trying to find something hidden. Perhaps burdened by my gaze, Ha Yeoul took a step back.
'Yeoul-ah, by the way. Why don't you call me by my name?'
I asked in a light tone to Ha Yeoul, who stood there with a blank face.
'You haven't been calling any of us by our names lately.'
I took a step closer to Ha Yeoul, who seemed to have become a different person, and muttered in a low voice.
'Forgetting that your mother passed away, too. She passed away when we were young, Yeoul-ah.'
'…What…?'
'It wasn't just anyone, you should remember that your own mother passed away.'
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