Diamond Dust Novel - Chapter 3

“Seo Yihyun. Seo Yihyun, wake up.”

I didn’t know when I’d fallen asleep, but I was curled up on the bare floor, wearing the same clothes I’d worn to the harbor.

It was Hyung who woke me up, shaking me. In the darkness, Hyung’s eyes were unusually bright. It was a light that wasn’t ordinary.

It was a deep night, with only the light of the sodium lamp hanging over the gate barely illuminating the room. The house had fallen completely silent, and I could tell it was raining. There was almost no sound of rain, only the smell was different.

“Hurry, pack only what you need.”

Hyung spoke quickly, in a low voice.

“Morae is waiting at Jaeyoon Hyung’s office. We’ll take his car to Seoul from there.”

Jaeyoon Hyung was the owner of the surf school and a close friend of both Morae and Hyung. Hyung had worked as an instructor there before enlisting and still earned money by occasionally teaching temporary classes after his discharge.

It was a plan we had made a long, long time ago, since high school. To make an escape when it was judged to be the final situation, with no room left for improvement.

Though it felt awkward for me to be included in this escape, which was akin to an elopement, they had naturally included me in the plan from the beginning.

No one was pressuring me to go on a boat, and no one was pushing me to break up with a loved one, but for me, having nothing was the reason for my escape. There was no reason to leave, but there was also no reason to stay.

The idea had started almost as a joke. Lying on the beach, giggling and spinning ridiculous plans like a B-grade Hollywood movie back in high school, we never thought the day would come to execute it.

Hyung and I were quick and decisive in choosing what to pack into the small backpack. There was nothing here precious enough that we absolutely had to take. I packed a couple of t-shirts and underwear from the drawer, which was filled with only striped clothing.

Hyung, who got up after zipping his backpack shut, having stuffed his most cherished comic book inside last, paused in front of the picture on the wall. He then tore the photo off, folded it in half, and put it in his jacket pocket.

The house, where three rooms faced the sea in a row, had undergone modern renovations years ago, but its basic structure was hanok (traditional Korean house). We carefully opened the sliding door and stepped out onto the toenmaru (narrow wooden porch) raised with stone and cement.

A fine drizzle was indeed falling. The sea breeze touching my exposed skin felt cooler than usual. It was an ominous coolness that made the back of my neck recoil.

We crossed the yard, enduring the annoying drizzle. Hyung gestured for us to climb over the wall instead of opening the main gate. The wall wasn’t that high. That seemed better than making the gate creak.

Just as we moved to walk toward the wall, a door opened from the main house behind us. It was the sound of a sliding door being pushed open from the inside. We stopped reflexively and slowly turned around.

It was Father.

In the darkness, where only the formless sound of the waves could be heard, Father was sitting inside the room, holding the doorknob, looking at us.

Hyung and I were standing in the middle of the night, long past midnight, in the rain without umbrellas, each wearing a backpack. Our appearance made it clear to anyone that we weren’t merely stepping out for a short walk.

How would Father react?

Sweat instantly beaded on my forehead and down my spine. My heart was pounding as if it would burst.

At this moment, all my attention was focused on Father’s lips, more than the success of our escape. It wasn’t because of the frustration of being caught.

Those last five years. Father’s lips, which had caused me to repeat cycles of expectation and resentment, and finally abandon hope by ceasing that repetition.

I was sick of the silence. Yet, I too was becoming a human steeped in silence, most familiar with it. Father…

“Hyun-ah, let’s go.”

How long did we stand there, letting the rain hit us? Hyung placed a hand on my shoulder. It wasn’t a hand urging me. Hyung would know what I was thinking and what I was feeling.

We changed our minds and opened the main gate instead of climbing the wall.

The iron gate, not oiled for a long time and easily corroded by the sea air, let out a metallic screech as it opened its mouth. Hyung slipped out, and then I followed, stepping out the door. With a heart more lingering than Lot’s wife leaving Sodom, I looked back one last time.

Where are you going? Don’t go.

Father never spoke.

***

The inside of the antique vintage display cabinet was saturated.

The principle was to arrange items exactly as they appeared in a photograph taken before emptying the contents, provided the client hadn’t specified otherwise. However, the interior of the cabinet in the picture could, at best, only be described as “a mess.” The arrangement was extremely poor, irrespective of the luxury of the collectibles.

If the client had been present, all I’d have to do was ask how they’d like it arranged and follow those instructions. But the client was absent today. We had entered the previous house by ourselves, punching in the door lock code, and the same was true for the new house. The client still hadn’t shown up, even though the move was nearly finished.

Just do what you think is best.That was the extent of the client’s request.

Ah, there was one exception.

Absolute, absolute, absolute caution with the paintings. This was the only requirement the client, who seemed otherwise not particularly fussy during the contract signing, had repeatedly emphasized.

The client, who was moving into an apartment with an excellent view facing the Yeouido skyscraper forest across the Han River, had a considerable number of paintings in their collection, alongside their expensive decorative items.

While it was a slight exaggeration that there was no bare wall space, with art hanging everywhere in the house, one of the four rooms was used purely for storing paintings.

At first, I wondered if they were a painter, but despite the large number of works, I saw no painting tools. It was highly likely they were an avid collector or worked in a related field.

It had been a long time since I’d encountered so many paintings at once. In recent years, the only paintings around me were the Shark Family and angel-wing murals drawn on the uphill road to Grandpa’s house.

“What is the world coming to? Do things like this actually happen?”

Behind me, the excited voice of our team leader could be heard as I pondered the placement of an intricate porcelain doll dressed in 18th-century clothing. He was probably looking at the internet news.

The team leader and the other four workers had already nearly finished cleaning and organizing their assigned areas. They were sitting on the carpet placed on the floor to protect it while moving furniture and boxes, passing the time while waiting for the client.

Normally, the cleaning team includes the Imo-nim (a term for an older woman, usually referring to the kitchen/bathroom specialist), but today, she had an emergency with her husband and the team leader’s son and his wife, they needed someone to watch their grandson, who had just passed his hundredth day. So, I was filling in for her work.

Although my school grades were quite high, I didn’t go to university, and I wasn’t confident in handling a smooth organizational life, even for a simple office job. Since my situation was almost like being on the run, full-time positions were on hold for now.

That’s when I noticed the part-time work at the moving company.

The team leader often teased me, saying it was obvious I hadn’t done any physical labor and that my height was wasted on me, but he wasn’t unfair. I had applied just thinking about the daily pay, which was given on the day of work, ignoring everything else. But I could also freely choose my working days, and the pay was decent.

“What’s up, did something else break out?”

The team leader started relaying the news to the other drivers, who expressed curiosity, their voices full of indignation.

“Some Alpha bastard was drunk and acting crazy in a taxi. So the taxi driver got pissed off and just dropped him off somewhere along the way. The guy, being drunk, wandered around not knowing where he was and ran into an Omega. And the unbelievable thing is, that Omega’s cycle or whatever started earlier than usual that day, so her boss, thinking he was being generous, sent her home early to take her medicine.”

Just hearing that much, I could guess what had happened. The other drivers seemed to be on the same page, expressing their sorrow in their own ways before the story was even finished.

“Since that bastard was picking fights with the driver, kicking the seat, and opening the door of a moving car… you can’t exactly blame the taxi driver for pulling him out mid-route… If only the boss had been a mean guy and hadn’t sent her home early, she wouldn’t have suffered like that. I don’t know how things turn out that way. Something that wouldn’t have happened if just one thing had gone differently…”

I listened silently to the team leader’s lament about cruel fate, meaninglessly caressing the hem of the 18th-century lady’s dress on the porcelain doll.

“If you observe Alphas closely, they’re no different from beasts. No matter how handsome they look or how smart they are… the things they do on the news are a sight to behold. If they can’t control themselves with reason, are they even human? Maybe it’s because I’ve lived my whole life without ever seeing an Alpha, but I find it unsettling that people are swayed by those hormones or pheromones.”

The second driver, who had been working with the team leader for about 30 years, raised his voice even louder to denounce Alphas.

If the team leader was more prone to sympathy, the second driver was closer to having a strong sense of justice. As a result, judging by hearsay, the two had gotten involved in countless incidents throughout their years working together.

“People like us, sure, but Alphas and Omegas especially need money. If they don’t have money, they lose their dignity and turn into animals in an instant. The management costs, with new medicines and all, are high. Anyway, it’s just unfortunate for the victim… What are the chances of so many coincidences stacking up like that? How can things like this happen in the world?”

Such incredible things, things that seemed utterly impossible, requiring coincidence upon coincidence upon coincidence to occur, did exist in the world. Like a massive truck hitting a protagonist who is crossing the street on a green light, things so sudden and lacking in any plausible connection that they wouldn’t even be used in movies or dramas.

“Kid, are you done with the kitchen?”

“All done, sir.”

I answered, setting the porcelain doll holding a parasol slightly askew. The work had been finished a long time ago. I was just fidgeting to avoid the discomfort of mingling with the hyung-nims who were at least fifteen years older than me.

“The client should be here in ten minutes, so let’s finish tidying up and head off right away.”

As the team leader said this, dusting his bottom to get up for the final carpet cleanup, his voice was now filled with anticipation for going home, replacing the pity he felt for the Omega in the news.

Right after we packed up all the cleaning supplies and sent them down with the lift truck, the client arrived. The haste in his expression and gestures was evident. Apologizing for his continued absence, the client handed the team leader an envelope, asking him to treat everyone to dinner.

Client service was the team leader’s job, so I only glanced at him, but the client, dressed in comfortable yet sophisticated clothes, didn’t look particularly fussy, just as we’d heard. The inspection was quick. Except for the room where the paintings were stored, he only opened the doors and peered in.