Lee Sungjong

---

 

A knock was heard from the front door that evening at Howon's apartment, just a little beyond dusk. A few knocks, actually.

 

Howon lived by himself for a quarter of the year, here in the town where Dongwoo lives, their hometown. Another half the year, he travels around, and rather quite aimlessly, searching for the cure that would revive Dongwoo's sister. The last quarter, he stayed with his parents who had since moved away from this town a short period after Dongwoo's sister fell into her current state.

 

He had been heating up leftovers from breakfast for his last-minute supper, pineapple-ham pizza and fried chicken, in the kitchen when he jumped at the sound from the door. He never had visitors. Did people even know he lived there?

 

After a quick glance through the oven door, Howon decided that he had time to answer the front door and make it back to the kitchen without burning his supper. He peered through the peephole and jumped back when he saw who was on the other side.

 

Of all visitors he could have expected (he never expects any), the ones waiting on the other side of the door  were the last people in the world he wanted to stop by for housewarming.

 

--

 

“Is he going to open the door? Is this even the right place?” Myungsoo asked Sungjong, whose arms were crossed, irritated at how long it was taking for Howon to answer the blasted door.

 

“Of course it is. Have I ever lied to you?”

 

“Well actually, yes you--”

 

“Shut up, Myungsoo.”

 

“Maybe he just doesn’t want to see you.”

 

“Shut up, Myungsoo,” Sungjong said again.

 

“After all,” Myungsoo continued, “doesn’t he have some sort of grudge against you or something?”

 

“Shut up, Myungsoo,” Sungjong repeated once more.

 

“And he goes to visit Soya every year too, doesn’t he? Maybe if we waited at the greenhouse this morning, we could’ve met up with him.”

 

“Kim Myungsoo, shut up, please.”

 

“Okay, okay,” Myungsoo said, gesturing an imaginary zipper across his lips. “But couldn’t you just break in? Like pick on the lock? Pull something out of your hair?”

 

Sungjong shrugged. “I could, but I’m being courteous and respectful of people’s private properties. I’m not really in the mood for getting arrested for breaking and entering, trespassing, and the likes at a time like this.”

 

The other boy gave him a look and started knocking on the door again, then tried the doorbell.

 

“Agh, why won’t he just open the door!” Myungsoo gave an aggravated shout and lifted his leg to kick at the door, and just after his shoe made contact with it, he quickly retracted his foot in pain.

 

Within a few seconds of the loud thud, the door opened. Howon stood there, glaring at his unwanted guests.

 

Sungjong and Myungsoo could see that Howon didn’t want them there. Myungsoo squatted and stared at the spot where he had kicked the door. Howon, puzzled, turned his head to see what Myungsoo had been staring at so intently.

 

“Oh my god. What the hell did you do to my door!” Howon panicked, for there was a fairly deep dent in the door where Myungsoo kicked. “What am I going to tell my landlord?”

 

“Umm. Oops?” Myungsoo said hesitantly, rubbing his hand at the back of his head.

 

Sungjong had no words for Myungsoo’s dumb, reckless actions, and simply put his hand to his forehead, shaking his head in disapproval. This wasn’t exactly how he intended to greet Howon for the first time in six years.

 

“Sorry about your door. Myungsoo will fix it later,” Sungjong turned to look at Myungsoo and sighed.

 

“Or right now, actually,” Myungsoo said and turned to Howon. “Do you by chance know where a hardware store is here?”

 

Howon frowned and gave him the directions, then led Sungjong into his apartment as Myungsoo headed toward the elevator back downstairs. After shutting front door, Sungjong sat down elegantly in one of the sofas in the living room, and Howon headed to the kitchen to prepare some tea.

 

Sungjong smelled something smoky in the apartment and scrunched his nose. “Howon. Is something burning?”

 

“.”

 

--

 

“Howon, there’s a reason I came to find you tonight,” Sungjong said as he sipped on his tea.

 

“Uh-huh.” Howon tore off the burnt parts of his pizza and nibbled on what bits of it he could still eat. “And what would that be?”

 

“I know the cure.”

 

As soon as he heard the word cure, he dropped his pizza onto the plate. No.

 

He couldn’t know. There was no cure.

 

“You’re lying.”

 

“No, I’m not lying.” Sungjong set his teacup down on the saucer.  

 

“Then what is it?”

 

“A mirror.”

 

“A mirror?” Howon repeated the younger boy’s words.

 

“Not just any mirror. An enchanted mirror,” Sungjong clarified.

 

“An enchanted mirror? Really? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

 

Sungjong looked down at the teacup and poured himself another cup full.