Episode 22
Hanin had probably been struggling to describe pizza and oven-baked spaghetti.
Thankfully, his guess was correct. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw the pictures on the menu.
“They drew it exactly like what I saw yesterday! Yes! This is it!”
She devoured a large pizza and three side dishes, leaving Joon-wan feeling full just by watching her.
“Humph, it’s nothing special.”
She said, licking her fingers after finishing her meal. Her expression, however, contradicted her words.
“Anything else you want to do?”
“Yes!”
Her eyes sparkled with anticipation. Joon-wan wiped her mouth with a napkin.
‘You should have asked her, Joon-wan.’
He realized he should have asked her what she wanted to do before leaving the house.
‘This is what a date is supposed to be like.’
He was surprised by his own thoughts.
‘A date?’
He was actually thinking of this as a date.
“Um, Hanin…”
“Yes?”
“Can we… speak informally outside?”
“To me?”
“Yes. It’s just that… people might find it strange if we use formal language with each other. So, if you don’t mind…”
“As you wish. I don’t care much for human customs.”
Joon-wan then abandoned his pre-planned itinerary and decided to recreate the date scenes from the drama Hanin had been watching.
The recreation involved watching a movie at a cinema, with a bucket of popcorn and a large soda.
“It’s just a bigger television. You can eat and drink, but don’t make any loud noises. And if you need to use the restroom, tell me quietly.”
He found himself speaking informally, perhaps because she looked like an ordinary woman, despite being a creature that had lived for over a thousand years. Hanin nodded and smiled.
“I have some common sense, you know. Have I embarrassed you at all so far?”
He couldn’t remember the last time he had been to a cinema. It felt like ages ago.
As they sat in the waiting area, Hanin munching on popcorn and sipping soda with a delighted expression, Joon-wan browsed through the pamphlets, lost in thought.
‘Would she understand this movie? This one? Not this one, it’s too explicit. This one is too violent. Not this one either.’
After much deliberation, he was left with an animated film, something children might enjoy. Hanin, not particularly interested in the movie itself, had already finished her soda and was working on his.
“It’s bitter, makes my throat hurt, and tastes like medicine.”
The large popcorn bucket was already empty. Seeing her disappointed expression, he bought her another one.
The movie he had chosen was starting soon, and it was two hours long. He felt nervous and flustered as they took their seats, like a parent taking their child to the cinema for the first time.
‘What is this movie even about?’
He couldn’t focus on the movie. He kept glancing at Hanin.
She was sitting upright, her eyes glued to the screen, her posture surprisingly straight for an invertebrate. Her eyes sparkled like iridescent beads in the light of the projector. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking.
“Did you enjoy it?”
“No!”
He asked as they left the theater, curious if she had understood anything.
“It wasn’t fun at all. I didn’t understand anything!”
She replied cheerfully. It seemed she was more interested in the experience itself than the movie’s content.
“But it was fascinating. I have no idea what kind of sorcery they used.”
Everything seemed magical to her. And it was, in a way. Hadn’t someone said that sufficiently advanced technology was indistinguishable from magic?
“Can we buy more of that stuff we were eating?”
She had clearly developed a taste for popcorn.
***
It was still raining as they left the building’s underground parking lot.
Whoosh!
Traffic was heavy in the busy district.
Hanin was dozing off in the passenger seat, her head bobbing, her arms wrapped around the popcorn bucket. She seemed to be succumbing to a food coma.
‘Oh dear.’
The popcorn bucket was precariously balanced, and her head kept hitting the window. Joon-wan pulled over to the side of the road.
He took the popcorn bucket and placed it on the floor in the backseat. She fumbled around, seemingly searching for it in her sleep, so he retrieved a cushion from the back and gave it to her. She settled down.
“…”
He smiled involuntarily, then quickly schooled his expression. He found another cushion and wedged it between her head and the window, maintaining a neutral expression as he continued driving.
Joon-wan didn’t smoke. But he felt a strange urge to light up, a feeling he couldn’t explain. The dragon beside him, oblivious to his inner turmoil, slept peacefully in her human form.
He wondered if the stuffy feeling in his chest was due to the heating and pulled at the neck of his sweater, but it didn’t help.
He rolled down the window, letting in the humid air, heavy with the scent of rain. It seemed to help a little.
“Ugh.”
He quickly rolled up the window at Hanin’s soft groan.
She had been deeply asleep, not waking up even when they reached the apartment’s underground parking lot. She finally stirred and opened her eyes after a while.
“You’re awake?”
He spoke formally out of habit and then sighed, feeling as if he could finally relax. She looked like an ordinary woman in her casual clothes, but knowing she was a creature that had lived for over a thousand years made him feel awkward speaking informally.
“Did I fall asleep?”
She asked, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Hanin blinked a few times, then chuckled sheepishly, her demeanor completely human. A strange feeling washed over Joon-wan, something he couldn’t quite describe.
“So, how was your day?”
“It was fun!”
She replied cheerfully, despite her sleepy expression.
Her long, shiny hair took forever to dry when it got wet.
But she either found the hairdryer too heavy or simply couldn’t be bothered. She would towel dry her hair a couple of times, unconcerned about the water dripping onto her pajama shoulders.
‘I guess it’s understandable.’
Her true form was a giant earthworm, after all. She probably wasn’t used to having hair.
“Sit down.”
‘I’m a human.’
Whirrr…
He made Hanin sit down, despite her visible displeasure, and sat behind her on the sofa, turning on the hairdryer to dry her hair.
‘And this woman, who looks human, is actually not. She’s an earthworm. No, a dragon.’
And she would ascend to the heavens once the rain stopped. It was his fault she had fallen, so all he had to do was help her return.
After drying her hair, he prepared dinner.
“…”
Joon-wan was an atheist. He had experienced his fair share of hardships, but not enough to make him turn to a higher power.
But he prayed.
‘Please let this being before me regain her strength and ascend to the heavens. And please let the rain stop.’
It was a prayer for separation.
‘Let everything return to its rightful place.’
It was a plea to banish the Ya-rae-ja who had invaded his life.
He hoped her swift departure would restore order to his chaotic world. He wanted her to disappear from his life.
But was it because he lacked faith?
Or was his heart wavering?
Or was it because, deep down, he didn’t truly want her to leave?
The next day.
On a Saturday morning, instead of sipping his usual black coffee, Joon-wan was frying eggs, sausages, and pancakes.
“Hey!”
Hanin called out from the sofa, where she was lounging with a cushion in her arms.
“Can I watch that thing after we eat?”
“Watching too much TV is bad for your eyes.”
“Eyes?”
And then the doorbell rang.
He thought it might be a delivery, but it was too early, and he didn’t remember ordering anything.
“Hmm?”
He turned off the stove, still wearing his apron, and approached the intercom. He froze, speechless.
“Oh…”
On the screen, someone who shouldn’t be there was smiling and waving at him.