*

They were smiling mildly at each other now. Donghae’s smile eventually turned to something more expectant,  and Hyukjae realised that the artist was waiting for him to ask more.

“Would you…” Hyukjae spoke as if he were treading on thin ice. “Could you tell me about your brother?”

Donghae’s expression become blank in an instant. “My brother?”

“Well actually, the whole reason I came here today,” Hyukjae shifted to find a colder spot in his seat. “I wanted to ask if you were going to have a funeral for your brother. And if you were, I wanted to ask what kind of person he was like. And if I could have a picture of him.”

As Hyukjae was talking, Donghae had been leaning over to pick up his yoghurt drink again. For the first time, he saw caution laced with more suspicion than insecurity in Donghae’s expression.

“I know it’s a strange request.” Hyukjae added quickly, the words feeling strangely familiar. “I’ll need to explain first.”

“Okay.” Donghae said, a hint of a question to the word. He’d been meaning to take a sip from his yoghurt drink, but now brought it back down on his lap.

“I’m an embalmer.” The artist looked confused, and he continued. “So I take in dead bodies and fix them up to look presentable. Because things happen to bodies when people die.” Hyukjae paused here for a second to deliberate whether to elaborate on details, then decided quickly that the artist was probably better off not knowing.

“You don’t need to know the details.” Hyukjae said. His smile didn’t stretch from ear to ear, but he hoped it was reassuring enough. “But when anyone in this town dies, if they’re not cremated, or if their family can’t be found, they come to me. I make sure the body is preserved long enough, until the people who care about the deceased have a chance to see them one last time.”

It took Donghae a few seconds to register why he was explaining all of this, then realisation dawned on his face.

“Oh.” Donghae said, then. “Oh.”

“So your brother…”

“I- umm… Yes, we would want that.” Donghae nodded earnestly. “Bury Donghwa and say our goodbyes. We couldn’t just leave him.” Hyukjae nodded in understanding as the artist seemed to look at him in a new light, an eagerness that was not there before in his eyes.

“So what do you need?” Donghae asked.

“Well firstly, a picture.” Hyukjae’s expression remained passive as the image of a bruised and beaten face flashed across his mind. “That and maybe you could tell me what he was like.”

“Oh. What do you need the picture for?”

Hyukjae looked down at his hands, unfolded them and left them open on his lap.

“Like I said, things happen to people’s bodies when they die. They don’t… look quite the same. Things happen…” He looked up swiftly at Donghae to see if he’d understood, and look relieved to see in his expression that he did and that he wouldn’t need to elaborate further. “And to restore them, we usually have a picture to work with, if we can get one. So that we can restore them as close as possible to their former likeness.”

Donghae’s brows knit together, then became unknit again.

“I don’t have any pictures but… I could draw one for you, if you’d like?” Hyukjae looked pleasantly surprised at this suggestion and Donghae continued. “It would take me probably an hour or so. Not long.”

Donghae turned left and right, searching the room, before he finally located large sheets of paper and pencil lying atop of his bedside table. Hyukjae was about to stop him as he strode over to grab the things when he remembered that the body in the shelf wouldn’t wait.

Donghae returned to his seat with the paper and a drawing board. He touched the tip of his pencil to the paper, then paused like a statue, staring impassively at the blank space in front of him.

After a few short moments of silence, the corners of Donghae’s lips pulled up the slightest as he let out a short and hollow chuckle.

“Which face of his should I draw…”

“Any. Any would be fine.” Hyukjae reassured. He placed his two hands on his knees and rubbed them, lightly.

Donghae sank deep in thought and Hyukjae watched the artist’s face as he continued to stare at the paper, pupils unnervingly still.

Donghae suddenly looked up at him as he remembered something, catching him off-guard. 

“You wanted me to tell you about him?”

“Oh. Yes.” Hyukjae said, taken aback as he’d completely forgotten. “It’s not necessary, but it helps me to ease into my job better. Makes me more familiar and comfortable with the deceased I’m working with. Just so I’m not working on a lifeless thing or…” He realised he wasn’t make much sense and tried to gesturing with a hand as if to feel the words he was looking for in the air. “I feel like… I’m helping a person?” Hyukjae inclined his head, hoping he didn’t sound too strange. “Not something dead, but someone that was once living and breathing with a personality.” 

“Ohhh.” Donghae dragged out the “oh” with interest and his eyes widened. “Right. Well…” He tapped his pencil on his chin, and looked up to the ceiling. “Hmm…”

“Just... anything, really. What he was like.” Hyukjae prompted. In his experience, some people had had trouble looking for places to start. On the other end, people had wanted to give him whole life stories, which he appreciated but weren’t all too necessary either.

“Well… for starters, he actually didn’t like art. And that was because of me. The smell of paint and the mess and everything.” Donghae said, did a look-around the room. “He was more of a people person. People opened up easily to him. He was just – naturally - someone you could trust. I guess it’s because he didn’t really say stuff he didn’t mean. And he hated lying.”

Donghae talked slowly, occasionally pausing to think about what to say.

“I actually- I always thought he probably would have been a lot more… I don’t know, outgoing or… childish? He was really mature about everything. Most things. Sometimes, it felt like he didn’t have to be, but he was just the adult between us.”

His brows furrowed together.

“And sometimes, I felt like he never laugh as hard as he could have or- because- I don’t know. Being the less mature one… I felt like that ended up being my thing because, I was the younger brother. So I was always louder one and complained more but I was never criticised that much because I was the baby of the family.” His voice turned to something more regretful. “Our wasn’t actually that big, but… he was a really good older brother.”   

He paused to take the tiniest sip of his yoghurt drink, and Hyukjae could tell from the way his eyes were still focused straight ahead that he wasn’t done.

“He was always comfortable and happy with the two of us, Eri and I, and looking after us. I guess I’m really… proud… that my brother was happy- with just me and Eri.” He continued. The passion was there but he sounded uncertain that he was expressing himself correctly. “We depended on him to make a lot of decisions – which, he was – dependent – but it felt like he depended on us too, me and Eri. And that he liked having us, and we really felt that he genuinely cared for us. He was-” Donghae sighed a melodic sigh that was both fond and melancholic at the same time. “He was a brother, and he listened to us, and he… he was kind of like our Mom and Dad too, in a way. He really loved us and cared about us, even though he never said the words out loud. We could tell.”

“I always felt kind of bad though, about the business. But he’d always say that it was our way of making money for now and that we’d give it up when we made enough and found a place to settle. He enjoyed meeting people but we moved around so much that we didn’t have friends many friends really, but just the three of us… it felt like me and Eri were… sufficient?” He looked to Hyukjae with a look that hoped Hyukjae understood.

Hyukjae absorbed this information with real attentiveness. “I see.” He managed a smile. There was nothing more to say. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

“I... yeah. No problem. I hope it helps.” Donghae said with a weak smile.

“It really does.” Hyukjae said, with emphasis. “Thank you.”

Donghae looked back to the blank page on his drawing board, then at the canvas in the corner.

“I… I think I can finish it tonight.” He said. His eyes were trained a spot on the wall as cogs and gears turned in his mind. Hyukjae presumed he was calculating the time he had for the rest of the night. “I can probably give you the sketch by tomorrow morning.”

“That would be great.” Hyukjae said, then added apologetically, “I know you’re pressed for time. I know this is a really bad time to ask but… the sooner the better. Because…” he thought about the condition of the body. “Because… Yeah.” 

“Right,” Donghae agreed promptly. “Okay. So…”

“I umm, I think I’ll leave you now. I need to get home and…” There was nothing waiting for him at home, and Donghae actually made Hyukjae feel quite comfortable and welcome, but he knew he had stayed long enough. “I’ll leave you to your artwork.”

“Okay.” Donghae got up from his chair as Hyukjae did and they both moved towards the door.

“I’ll see you again… tomorrow?”

Donghae nodded. “Tomorrow. Come by any time. I should be here. If not, I’ll leave the drawing at reception with Siwon.”                                                                                       

**

Hyukjae woke up rather early the next morning. At 7:30 am, the phone rang and Hyukjae picked up the phone hanging from the wall, already harbouring a good idea of who was calling.

“Hello?” A familiar male voice came from the other end of the receiver.

“Dr Park.” Hyukjae acknowledged. “Hello.”

“It's Hyung. Hyung.” The man grumbled, but didn't sound that mad.

Hyukjae smiled, leaning his back against the wall next to the phone. “When are we meeting again?”

“I was thinking Wednesday. Is Wednesday good for you?”

“Of course.” Hyukjae said. He fiddled with the phone cord, stretching it. “Wednesday is good.”

“The usual time and place then?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. See you then. Ah- and don't eat before you come. Let's go eat together.”

“Okay, sure."

"See you then, Hyukjae."

"See you, Hyung.” Hyukjae replied. He waited a few seconds for the line to go dead, before he hung up the phone. 

In another half an hour, the phone rang again - this time, an unexpected caller.

“Hello?” Hyukjae said, expecting a sales pitch, or for someone to have dialled the wrong number.

“Is this the number for Lee Hyukjae-ssi?”

“Yes.” Hyukjae replied. “This is him speaking.”

“This is Kim-Ryeo-Wook from the local police.” The voice was clear and bright, and the name was punctuated in such a way as if it were making an important announcement on the radio. “I am the head detective running the investigation on the incident in which you are suspected of the murder of Lee-Dong-Hwa­-ssi. We need you to come in as soon as possible, to discuss some matters regarding the case.”

Hyukjae looked to the time on the wall, and calculated how much time he would need to let his boss know that he would be late for work.

“… As soon as possible?”

“Yes.” The detective said in an agreeable manner, and Hyukjae could picture him nodding. “Within the working day. I’m afraid it is that, or we will personally dispatch a team with a warrant to find you and bring you in.” The words were that of a warning, but the voice retained its vibrant tone. “I think it would be best if it didn’t come to that.”

Hyukjae told the detective that he would be able to visit right away, before he phoned his boss to let him know that he would be late to arrive to work on this morning.

*

“So, Lee Hyukjae-ssi,” The detective Ryeowook not only had a bright voice, but a petite figure and a porcelain bright complexion with equally bright eyes to match. “Please tell me more about… this incident.”

He splayed out a number of pages in front of Hyukjae on the table, before lacing his hands together in front of him and looking to Hyukjae with eyes gleaming with a child-like curiosity.

“Do you still own a car, Lee Hyukjae-ssi?” He asked, as if he were a mother asking her child if he still kept the toys from his childhood toy-box.

“No.” Hyukjae replied honestly.

“Hmm… it says here that this investigation was initially written up as an attempted homicide as a result of some issues you’d been having - that you had at the time been seeing your therapist about – but in the end it was written off that your issues weren't of a violent nature and that the incident was purely accidental. Thankfully, no one was hurt and you were free to go.” Ryeowook spoke slowly, clearly, and somewhat encouragingly as if to help jog Hyukjae’s memory. “How is your condition now?”

“It’s improved.” said Hyukjae.

“Do you still see your therapist frequently?”

“Once a month.”

“Hmmmm.” Ryeowook looked down at the table, eyes darting sideways, as if he were a first grade teacher considering the truth of a bad child’s testimony. “I’ll have to contact him personally to check on that myself.”

Hyukjae only nodded to this.

“As for the other matter.” Ryeowook’s voice rose with energy and he sat up straighter. “You don’t have a very common occupation. I imagine working with dead bodies isn’t everyone’s favourite pastime.” The detective leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “But you’re quite comfortable doing this on a daily basis. Would you say that doing that job has had any influence… any part to do with your issues?”

Hyukjae maintained a poker face, understanding of where the detective was coming from, but feeling unjustly attacked at the same time.

He simple replied “I don’t feel comfortable talking about this subject.”

Ryeowook smiled, lips tight and eyes flashing. “Fine. In that case, I’ll just have to rely a lot more on theory for my detective work.” He sighed lightly through his nose.

“Do you have anything more to say for yourself, Lee Hyukjae-ssi? You are still a prime suspect in this case. This-” He lay a smooth hand on the papers on the table. “-might be a closed case, but I hope you are aware that it can always be reopened?”

“Yes. And I have nothing more to say. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to work.” Hyukae said, slowly standing up. Ryeowook stood up to accompany him, but kept talking.

“The witness’ testimony is rather credible, so even though we have not uncovered any weapons or DNA in our investigation that points the murder directly to you, your motive for killing may be deemed a propensity for violence as a result of what your medical history shows to be possible mental instability.” The small detective’s eyes hardened uncharacteristically for a moment as he said the last words, then softened again, the light restored. “You will give us your full co-operation, of course?”

Hyukjae nod in return was minimal and he refused to look at the detective. “Yes.”

“Have a good day then, Lee Hyukjae-ssi.” Ryeowook said, his smile bright and boyish. They exchanged bows, Ryeowook’s slow and deep while Hyukjae’s was quick and shallow, before Hyukae exited in a hurry, leaving the door unshut behind him.

*

His first port of call before he could return to work was to the motel. In the daytime, when the sky was clear and blue, he could tell that the roof of the motel was a warm and rich red. There weren’t as many cars during the daytime.

He knocked on the door of 104 and took a small step back.

He heard muted footsteps coming towards the door and then the door swung open. Donghae was still fixing his bed hair when he greeted Hyukjae and he didn’t even give him time to say hello before he’d disappeared again.

“Hi- just a second…”

He went back into the room, leaving Hyukjae alone at the door for a few moments before he re-appeared with a piece of paper in his hand.

“The sketch.” Donghae said, rather redundantly, as he handed it over. His eyes didn’t leave the face on the paper until it was in Hyukjae’s hands.

Hyukjae glanced at the face down on the paper. Donghwa wasn’t smiling, but his eyes were. He looked up at the person in front of him, seeing the resemblance in the eyes.

“Thanks.” Hyukjae said. “I’ll do my best.”

The artist smiled. He looked tired from the effort from having to do such a simple gesture.  

“Thanks.”

*

When Hyukjae finally showed up to work, it was just past noon. The funeral director was not mad, but rushed as he grabbed his things off of him and urged him to run across to the cemetery.

“You already missed the viewing. And the service.” He said, yanking Hyukjae’s bag off him. “Go. Go.”

Hyukjae ran. He hadn’t removed his jacket, and the sun was rather strong at this time of the day, so by the time he reached the cemetery and found where the burial was happening, he was panting and a thin sheen of sweat had formed under his fringe.

There was only a thin old man and a moderately dressed, middle-aged lady at his arm. They each held a white flower in their hands and wore black clothes for the occasion. They watched as the coffin was slowly lowered into the grave, and stayed until the tractor had clawed all the dirt into the hole. When the grave had become a mound of dirt on the ground, they knelt at the foot of the mound and prayed silently for a few moments before they got up again, the younger lady supporting the arm of the old man to help him up onto his weaker legs.

When finally, they made to leave, Hyukjae apologised for being late and introduced himself as the man who had made the viewing possible, and offered his sincere condolences. He said that he hoped the last image of his wife (he addressed the old man out of respect) was that of a peaceful one that the old man would remember fondly.

“It was.” The old man said. He couldn’t find it in him to smile and Hyukjae saw the dried tears on his face. His voice sounded grated as if there were small pebbles in his throat. “It was hard to believe. She looked just as if she were sleeping.”

The woman thanked him too, and then they bowed and they were off.

Hyukjae watched them go, staying awhile to pay his own respects to the elderly woman’s grave before he walked back to the funeral home.

Back in the basement, he put on his gear and removed Donghwa’s body from his shelf. He spent the rest of the afternoon and evening, slowly working the damage away, covering it up and kept looking back to the sketch for reference. He hummed softly to a jazz tune in between working on the face, his hands carefully moulding and remoulding, working at the plasticine-like material until the cheek was the same smoothness as the cheek in the sketch. He patched up the wound in the neck until the skin looked smooth and looked as if it had never been touched with a knife.

At last, he was satisfied with his work and Donghwa looked as healthy as if he were only asleep. Hyukjae carefully put him back in the shelf.

As the body slid in, and as he clamped the door behind it shut, he stopped humming. An eerie silence filled the room and the smell of chemicals that permeated the air overwhelmed him. He stood there for a few moments in the dead silence, unmoving. He then quickly stripped himself of his protective gear on leaving the basement and left the funeral home as soon as possible.

He walked fast to the bus stop, a quickness in his step. It was dark but it wasn’t cold, yet he found himself shrugging his shoulders with energy as he waited. He greeted the late night bus driver on boarding, and bid him a good evening as he stepped off.

He arrived at his apartment, feeling hungry but too tired to eat. He was pleasantly tired though, the faint soreness in his muscles a testament to a long day of meaningful work. He did all the usual – brushed his teeth, changed into light clothing and washed his face.

He looked into the mirror and every blink of the eye seemed to happen in slow motion. His face looked drawn and pale under the bathroom light. He watched himself for a few breathing moments before he grabbed at the cabinet door and reached for the pills, tipping out two and taking them out to the kitchen to fetch water to swallow them down.

Then he went to bed.

*