“Do you want to come with me to pick Junghwan up at the station?” his mother had asked. “No thank you, I’d rather not,” Sunwoo had answered in his most delightful tone. “Don’t be silly. We’re leaving in half an hour, be ready by then,” his mother had snapped. So much for having a choice.

Sunwoo stands in front of the small mirror in his bedroom adjusting the buttons on his navy blue jacket, and mutters to himself about injustice and maltreatment. If his mother so dearly wants another boy in the house, she can go get him on his own. There’s no use in dragging Sunwoo into this mess sooner than necessary. It’s not as if he has been excited about this and can’t wait another hour to meet him. Actually, he’d like to wait as long as possible. The less time he has to spend with this guy, the better in his opinion. He doesn’t understand how his mother could have deceived herself into believing they’ll get along. She talks like she is certain they’re going to be best friends in no time. Well, Sunwoo already knows she’s going to be disappointed, because he has no intentions of becoming remotely friendly with that kid. He turns his back on the mirror and goes to sit down in his armchair. The last week has been a true pain. On any normal day his room will be a calm place, located on the second floor of the east wing where the only other room that is occasionally visited is his father’s smaller library. Sunwoo likes it that way, having his own little corner of the house where he can pretend he chooses to be alone. The constant movement outside his door makes him restless.

As soon as it was settled that they’d take this boy in they had started making sleeping arrangements for him. Seeing it stands practically unused, they came to the conclusion that the little guest room on the opposite side of the hallway and just a few metres down from Sunwoo’s would be the best option. It’s not even a third of the size of his bedroom, and with a window facing north it’s chilly nine months a year. “It’s much too cramped and draughty in there for any guest we’d actually like to house,” as Sunwoo’s mother put it. “Junghwan wouldn’t notice any difference though. It’s still much more than anything he could compare it to.” And so it was decided, without anyone asking Sunwoo what he thought about it. Of course he’d answer that he had been against the whole thing from the very beginning, and as far as he is concerned Junghwan can sleep in the stable. Well, except that maybe he shouldn’t be trusted to be alone with the horses.

As usual it is Sunwoo who has to pay the price for his parents’ silly whims, and no-one ever bothers to see if he has anything to say about the matter. Only yesterday his mother trampled in to his room with a maid. They told him they were just going to pick some clothes out for Junghwan. From his closet. As they were sorting out trousers with torn hems and folding a linen shirt with a yellowish stain that never quite went away even after being washed several times, Sunwoo stepped nervously back and forth behind them. “It’s not fair, you can’t take my clothes and give them to him!” he whined. “These are too small for you anyway. Or too worn. You can’t wear them anymore, you’d look ridiculous,” his mother calmly explained, while she was ordering the maid to grab a coat with a big tear under one arm with her hand. “But they’re still mine.” He doubts she even heard his last mutter, although he knows it’s unlikely it would have changed anything if she did.

Unable to relax Sunwoo gets up from the chair again and walks back to the mirror. With his finger he puts a few smooth strands of short, jet-black back in place and nervously flattens out any possible invisible creases on his clothes. His mother and the coachman are the only ones who will see him apart from the city kid, but that is no reason to not look respectable. That brat might as well understand that Sunwoo is of another class than him right away. Just so he won’t get any ideas of trying to befriend him. He pulls out his pocket watch, an expensive constriction in gold-plated cupper, and throws one last look at himself to make sure he looks his best. Slowly and reluctantly he makes his way downstairs. In the hallway his mother is waiting for him, dressed in a long, steel grey coat and a matching hat. The crunching, clattering sound of hooves and wheels against gravel tells them their carriage has arrived. Sunwoo’s mother puts her hand on the doorknob.

“Behave now, will you?” she begs, before the turns it and opens the door. Sunwoo pretends he doesn’t hear her, but he feels offended. Here they are going to pick up some kid who’s likely not even housetrained, and Sunwoo’s mother is worried about his behaviour.  He shoves his hands into his pockets and follows her outside to the ride waiting for them on the wide courtyard. It’s a chilly for August, the sky an unchanging, uninteresting medium grey. The forest green paint of the two horse stagecoach is shining even in the dull light, as is the glossy chestnut coats of the holsteiners pulling it. One of the horses shakes its head lazily once to get rid of a fly, but apart from that they give the appearance of being asleep, knowing they have only a few minutes of rest before their work begins again. They are both on the older side now, not used for show anymore but for safe and effective transportation. Sunwoo climbs into the carriage and deliberately sits down opposite his mother and close to the wall to make the distance between them as far as possible. Outside the coachman clicks his tongue loudly to wake the horses from their slumber, and they start moving slowly.

They are not going all the way to the city to pick Junghwan up, but will have him delivered to the nearest railroad station in a small town just a couple kilometres away. Will have him delivered. Those were the exact words Mrs Kim had used when making arrangements with his parents as to how he would make it to their house. Now, Sunwoo couldn’t care any about the boy, but he still frowned at the wording. It made it sound like Junghwan was less than human, if even a living thing. You’d have letters delivered, or foods, or new curtains for the dining room. Not people. He tells himself it is not so much the dehumanization of the brat that bothers him, but that his parents would have him make sacrifices and give up both his privacy and his clothes for something that was not even worthy to be talked of as a person.

They ride in silence, both of them looking out a window at the scenery floating by. The fields passing by all have a variation of light golden-beige shades and the trees are late-summer dark. Before Sunwoo’s sulkiness has had a chance to wear off they roll up at the small station. It looks deserted at first glance, and Sunwoo feels a hint of glee and hope at the thought of Junghwan maybe not being there. But then a boy steps away from the wall he was leaning against, the colour of his clothes blending perfectly with the coal and dirt stained brick house, and his heart sinks again. With a sharp look his mother orders him to get out, but Sunwoo stays put and folds his arms over his chest. She sighs heavily and exits the coach herself, leaving the door open behind her as a gesture for him do the same. Instead, Sunwoo turns his head the other way, refusing to watch as she goes to greet Junghwan and show him to the carriage. They are back in under a minute, his mother taking her seat again. Sunwoo immediately realizes the mistake of not sitting next to her. The boy who has just entered behind her looks around for a second trying to decide where to sit before he slides down next to Sunwoo, far too close for the later to be comfortable. He has only one bag with him,  a used thing that looks like it has been mended several times and can barely fit an entire change of clothes, and he places it on the floor between his feet. Sunwoo tries not to look at him, but can still see him from the corner of his eye. The clothes he’s wearing is mismatched; an odd assortment of outgrown, home-sown and what looks as if it is his father’s jacket. It probably is, Sunwoo reminds himself, considering his father is dead. It seems like someone has made a serious effort to comb his hair, but it’s still matte and hanging too far down his neck and eyes. It is quiet for a few minutes, before Sunwoo’s mother breaks it.

“So Junghwan. We don’t know very much about you in all honesty. How did you- well, if you don’t mind me asking, how did you end up here?” In Sunwoo’s opinion that is a rather stupid thing to ask someone who has just left his only remaining family member with no other option than to go live with strangers, but Junghwan smiles and instantly starts rambling.

“Well, we were never very well off to begin with. Dad used to be a blacksmith, he was quite known for having a good hand with shoeing horses so we did alright. Then of course I never quite got a hold of it so when the bad years came – not that the years before that was awfully good either – and food ran out and got expensive and people started getting sick right and left, and then my sister fell ill, and then my dad, and I got a bit of it too but I got better again, which they of course didn’t as you probably know by now, well, they both died and I was left with mum and I tried to take over dads work but I wasn’t as handy as he was and then there was the… the accident, and we just kept losing clients until we had to close down entirely-“ Here he has to pause to take a deep breath. “-and mum has tried to find a work but since times are rough and all it hasn’t been easy and I know I’m a burden too because she does not want to leave me alone for too long, even if I can handle myself perfectly well on my own, and so when this opportunity came up she was thrilled because she’s been feeling awfully bad for not being able to take care of me or feed me as she’d like to, and if it wasn’t for the fact that I knew I just make things harder for her by staying I would’ve stayed to help her but since I do know I understood that the most reasonable thing to do was to accept.” During his speech he has kept his eyes low, but now he looks up at Sunwoo and his mother. “And here I am now.” Sunwoo finds that he has been staring at Junghwan the whole time he’s been talking, fascinated by the endless stream of words and how his voice goes up and then down and fast and then slow, like it follows every turn of Junghwan’s train of thought. Not until Junghwan meets his eyes he snaps out of it and quickly looks away, putting on a dignified face of disinterest.

It is actually very rude of Junghwan, to blabber on like that with no second thoughts of his language or showing polite respect and not talk more than he needs to. Rude and thoughtless, just as Sunwoo has expected.

Late at night, long after Sunwoo has been forced to suffer through a painful dinner after which he got accompanied by Junghwan back to his floor (his father has called it theirs, but Sunwoo refuses to think of it as that), he lies in his bed, sleeping soundly. The first day with Junghwan in the house has not been as bad as it could’ve been. It lived up to all his expectations, but not more. And when he went to bed that night, he lay awake for a long time, unable to make Junghwan’s voice ringing in his ears go away. He still has no intentions of getting friendly with him, and he has proved himself to be just as intolerable as Sunwoo though, but he can’t deny he has a nice voice. The sound of it on replay in his head eventually rocked him into a sleep deeper and calmer than any sleep he has had for a long time.

A sudden noise piercing through the silence makes his eyes fly open, and for a moment his sleepy brain can’t figure out what the sound is. When he realizes it must be Junghwan, his scream muffled by two massive oak doors but still perfectly audible, it has already stopped. A small strike of pity and curiosity hits Sunwoo, but he buries it in annoyance over being awakened from his dreams.