A Night of Drizzling Mist (4)
"…Coffee?"
"Yes."
Gaon, who had half-turned toward it before she knew what she was doing, soon bit her lip with a helpless look on her face. She looked exactly like a child permitted one candy a day, suddenly handed a second and left with no idea what to do about it. Ha. A child, she says. Even Ji-won had to admit the description was alarming in its lack of objectivity. So this is what being blinded by love really looks like. He recognized the ailment all too well; regrettably, he knew of no cure.
"If Kwon Yeo-sa finds out, I'll get an earful. I couldn't sleep last night."
Couldn't sleep again? Now that I think of it, her jaw has gotten sharper these past few days. When I was with her, she ate and slept well enough…. What are all those people fussing over her day and night even doing? At this point, shouldn't someone come up with a genuinely drastic improvement plan? Stiffening his jaw to keep the flare of irritation from showing, Ji-won caught the pleading expression with which Gaon stared at the coffee, and the corners of his eyes crinkled into a small smile.
So why is it that nobody else ever notices how plainly everything shows on her face? And why is my own mood swinging around like a lunatic on a trampoline? I was never this moody, you know.
"It's brewed light, so it's all right to drink."
"Really?"
"Yes. I only used half a shot, and plenty of the ice melted on the way over. Even so, if it worries you, just drink half. You were fine in London even when it was stronger than this."
"Then… I suppose I will?"
Gaon's face brightened at once, and she took the straw between her lips. Honest to a fault about her resolve to drink exactly half, she checked how much remained after every single sip. Watching the coffee dwindle with such visible regret melted Ji-won's heart right along with the ice. Poor thing. If she wanted it, I'd buy her a hundred cups of that coffee…. No, I'd buy her the whole coffee plantation.
"I heard you spent the entire afternoon in your office today."
"Yes. Jungcheon has been quiet, for once."
"Your expression didn't look too good when you came in, though…. Has something troublesome come up?"
"Troublesome…?"
Gaon repeated the words in a low voice, then gave a small shake of her head. Dissecting the whole of a person's life was always a weighty task, but it was routine work, and she hardly thought of it as a headache. Her eyes were a little dry and the back of her neck stiff from concentrating for so long, but there was no real discomfort beyond that. Sheer physical exhaustion had become her baseline ages ago; she barely registered it anymore.
"Nothing like that. A soul arrived whose scale reached perfect balance, so I simply spent a long time thinking."
"Do you always deliberate this long when one like that arrives?"
"I have to. A single soul's future hangs on it. And it's something that can never be undone."
A heavy sigh threaded through Gaon's languid voice. This was, in truth, the part of her duty as Jungcheonju that weighed on her most.
No matter how she agonized over a judgment, turning every consideration over a hundred times before deciding, the Master of Jungcheon was not a perfect being, and Gaon's decisions did not always bring the desired result. She had once granted rebirth after long deliberation, only to see the soul return in its next life as a murderer of historic cruelty. A fragile soul, scarred past repair by the rigors of hell, sometimes brought its hard-won new life to an early end by its own hand.
What was more, because humans live entwined with one another, a single lifetime ripples outward into many others. A murderer inevitably creates victims, and one who takes their own life leaves wounds in the hearts of family or lovers that can never be washed clean. On occasion, a particularly sensitive soul carries the wounds etched into its spirit into every new life it receives. And so, before delivering judgment, there was no choice but to knock on the stone bridge ten, twenty times over.
Ji-won's gaze sharpened slightly as he watched Gaon sink into thought. Her impassive face was the same solemn countenance the Master of Jungcheon always wore, but the small sigh caught at the edge of her words vividly recalled a weak sound he had heard only once.
— "Director Cha. I am not a god. I've merely been handed the role of judge, so I flail about, doing whatever it takes to survive my term in one piece. These days I have enough experience and enough of an eye for it to play the veteran, but at the beginning, I was a complete mess."
Right. It can't be easy. Just keeping her sanity the way she does must be no small feat. Dealing with people is exhausting in its own right, after all — and the ones who come before her face to face are the most violent and ferocious of the lot. There's no one in this world who faces more of them than she does.
Come to think of it, even the rest of us, who handle the dead so carelessly by comparison, receive periodic care for the emotional toll. So who's looking after her in that regard? Or is she simply enduring it all alone, swallowing it down?
"CEO, if it isn't rude of me, may I ask you something?"
"Go ahead, ask."
"How did you come to be Jungcheonju? Were you chosen for it from birth?"
Gaon felt a flicker of bewilderment at the sudden, entirely unexpected question. In nearly a thousand years, no one had ever put such a fundamental question to her. Humans simply revered or feared the Jungcheonju; they took no interest whatsoever in how one was appointed.
"Why do you ask?"
"Just curious. What kind of life you lived before becoming Jungcheonju. Whether you wanted the position. You mentioned once that there's a term of office — how much of it is left, and what happens when it ends. Things like that."
Before I became Jungcheonju… hmm. There had been a time when she was simply a daughter growing up loved beneath ordinary parents. No — in an era when failing to send one's children off in due time branded you an unfit parent, a mother and father who merely kept a daughter past twenty tucked in their arms could hardly be called ordinary. Trying to recall her parents' faces for the first time in ages, Gaon smiled a bittersweet smile. It was all so distant now that the memory's outlines had blurred.
"You seem to be the curious type, Director Cha."
"Not particularly, no."
It's you I'm curious about. When a man takes an interest in a woman, he wants to know everything — the scent of her shampoo, her shoe size, all of it. Everyone else can live however they please. I couldn't care less.
"How I became Jungcheonju…. Well, timing-wise, I was born around the time the previous Master's term was drawing to a close. Sangcheonje had narrowed the field to a handful of candidates, and King Yeomma chose me from among them. Did I want it? Hm. No one forced me, but if I had known in advance what the position entailed, I would have refused."
"Do you regret it?"
"Countless times. Especially in the beginning."
She could speak of it so casually now, but looking back, those had been vast, grueling years that seemed as though they would never end. At last I can see the end. Exactly how many years remain…. Gaon counted the sum in silence, then happened to glance at the clock and opened her eyes a little wide. Thirty minutes have passed, and all I've had is a few sips of coffee? Talking with Director Cha always makes me ramble on strangely.
"Let's leave the rest for next time. I have an outside engagement tomorrow, so I must settle this soul's path before the day is out."
"Are you going somewhere far?"
"Taebaek. There have been several disappearances of the dead in the area around Taebaek Mountain recently, and apparently there's a place where the Guide following them could get no closer."
Gaon closed the conversation there and reopened the Buganrok across her desk. Ji-won, who had been listening with leisurely attention, felt his heart quicken. If he withdrew obediently now, there was no telling when the promised "next time" would arrive.
Do you know how much time and effort I've poured into getting this far today? Taebaek, of all places…. I have to follow her there somehow. I need a plausible excuse, and fast…. How many galleries are worth a stop on a route between here and Taebaek?
His brain turning over at a terrifying pace, Ji-won sketched a map of Gangwon Province in his mind and ran swiftly through the eliminations. Jeongseon is close to Taebaek, but the routes don't overlap. Wonju is too far from Taebaek to propose tagging along on the way. Chuncheon and Gangneung are in entirely the wrong direction. That leaves… Yeongwol.
Taking a single steadying breath so as not to betray the haste, Ji-won began in as nonchalant a voice as he could manage.
"Then shall I drive you there, CEO? I was already planning to visit a ceramics museum in Yeongwol sometime this week. There's a special exhibition on there that I've been dying to see."
"Hm? Isn't Taebaek quite a bit further on past Yeongwol?"
"Not that far. I'd been dreading how tedious the drive would be on my own, so this works out nicely. You can finish your business in Taebaek, then set aside an hour or so on the road back to Seoul. From what I saw in London, you're rather fond of ceramics…. It isn't a large museum, but it's full of charming pottery pieces — well worth a visit at least once."
Though a tempted look crossed her face at the suggestion, Gaon did not readily nod.
"I don't know how long Taebaek will take. If it runs too late, the museum will already be closed."
"Then we'll simply grab some kalguksu in Taebaek on the way. There's a famous knife-cut noodle house there. I think of it now and then, but I could never quite justify driving all the way to Taebaek for a single bowl, so I've never gone."
"Kalguksu?"
The response this time was far more favorable than the museum pitch had drawn. Appealing to the appetite really is the fastest route. She loves ramyeon and pasta alike — I knew she'd take to knife-cut noodles too.
"Yes. It's always so crowded that going in alone felt a bit embarrassing, honestly."
"And in all this time, there wasn't a single person to go with?"
"No idle friend will accompany anyone to Gangwon Province on a weekday afternoon. Their potato pancakes are wonderfully crisp, too — however many famous restaurants I hunt down in Seoul, that flavor never turns up."
Gaon flinched at the mention of potato pancakes yet still withheld her easy approval, so Ji-won, resolved to play his last card, let his expression fall.
"If it's that my tagging along is a bother to you…."
"It isn't that. Having Director Cha along makes things easier for me. As you well know, I'm a person with almost no talent for daily life…. Someone as attentive and kind as you at my side is a real comfort. I only hesitated because I feel guilty about imposing on a busy man time and again."
"I go because I want to, so there's no need for that sort of worry."
"Still…."
"You should enjoy good food and lovely sights now and then too, CEO. A change of mood is absolutely essential — for the sake of work efficiency as much as anything."
Does it… really? Gaon, who had known only the rhythm of issuing orders and watching them carried out without a murmur, was eventually worn down by Ji-won's relentless, wholehearted persuasion. That the business trip to London she had taken with him had left such a pleasant impression helped tip the scales as well.
"I'm planning to leave around seven in the morning. Will that be all right?"
"Yes. I'll come to your residence to pick you up by ten minutes to seven."
"You're going to drive yourself, Director Cha? We could simply take my car."
"No. I get awkward and uncomfortable riding in a car driven by someone else. And it would feel wrong to have someone senior to me handle a long drive. It's simply easier on my mind, all around, if I'm the one behind the wheel."