Chapter 45

“…When I’m hungry, my brain doesn’t work so well.”

Mu-yeong clumsily excused the reason for his freeze. Rotating his ankle for no reason at all, he offered a bright smile as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Choi Yook nodded as though granting him a pass.

“Doesn’t seem like it runs particularly well under normal circumstances either,” Choi Yook remarked dryly. “Must mean you’re perpetually starved.” As Mu-yeong had nothing to say in return, Choi Yook ordered, “Let’s go eat. If I leave you like this, you’ll probably cause an accident behind the wheel.”

Flinging away the hand he had been crushing, Choi Yook took the first step forward. Mu-yeong hurried after him, matching his stride.

With just that, the world transformed into a comfortable and safe place—setting aside, of course, whatever danger the man right in front of him might pose.

One new seasonal burger loaded with white truffle sauce, another burger with whole shrimp added, two cheeseburgers, French fries, nuggets, and two cups of cola.

Such was the spread laid out before Mu-yeong and Choi Yook as they sat across from each other. Mu-yeong had been the one diligently tapping the kiosk screen, while Choi Yook had slid his card into the reader.

In the thick of the lunch rush, the burger franchise was loud and bustling. Patrons constantly crisscrossed the floor, tangling foot traffic, while the competition to secure a table was fierce.

Yet not a soul approached the window table where the two of them sat. It was a stark contrast to the times Mu-yeong had sat alone.

Shoving a fry into his mouth, Mu-yeong stole a glance at Choi Yook. The man was eating far more neatly and calmly than expected, wearing an expression not much different from when he was spooning up blood sausage soup.

It was Mu-yeong who had chosen burgers for lunch. He had suggested the place thinking the menu wouldn’t suit the man in the slightest, but Choi Yook’s reaction had been thoroughly underwhelming. Just as Mu-yeong tried to avert his gaze, their eyes locked.

“What,” Choi Yook said flatly.

Mu-yeong offered a quick shake of his head. “Nothing, really. Just surprised at how well you eat it. Do you like burgers?”

“Just eat your food,” Choi Yook muttered, frowning as though answering were a chore. “Whenever we eat, Sijin always acts so damn finicky that I just adapt to whatever he wants. He’ll knock over the food I went out of my way to bring, throw a fit because something is missing, throw another fit because something is in there. At that point, as long as it passes for a meal, it’s fine.”

Beaming with a bright smile, Mu-yeong chimed in, “He sounds like a baby. How cute. Personally, I’ve always liked people with clear preferences.”

A broad smile spread across Mu-yeong’s face as he leaped defensively to Choi Sijin’s defense.

“Sijin doesn’t like burgers, does he? Probably finds them bothersome and messy to eat. But I like burgers. I don’t think Mom bought them for me often when I was little.”

“Guess spending money on a kid felt like a waste to her,” Choi Yook drawled.

“No, she said they were bad for my health,” Mu-yeong corrected him. “I think that’s why I ended up loving things like fried chicken, pizza, and jajangmyeon even more. Because they were special treats.”

But after he went to live with Grandmother, opportunities to eat such food disappeared. Even when snacks were occasionally donated to the orphanage, his share was rarely handed to him. Whenever they calculated how many portions were needed, they invariably forgot to count Seo Mu-yeong.

Choi Yook’s verdict was concise.

“A child’s palate.”

Mu-yeong immediately shot back, “It’s a mainstream palate. If anyone has a child’s palate, isn’t it you, Section Chief? You hate red beans.” He distinctly remembered the one ingredient that made the man shudder, even when he could stomach okchundang candy without issue. He thought it was a strike that would land, but Choi Yook didn’t so much as bat an eyelash.

“Your tastes are the ones warped into something bizarre, Seo Mu-yeong-ssi,” Choi Yook retorted coldly. “I’d rather spoon-feed Sijin than swallow some grotesque abomination like cake with red beans.”

Mu-yeong protested at once, “How is that an abomination? It was a birthday cake my mom baked for me with her own hands. She whipped the fresh cream and boiled the red beans at home, and not a single person who tasted it failed to praise it. By the way, can I take over spoon-feeding Sijin instead?”

As Mu-yeong gazed back with fervent, sparkling eyes, Choi Yook’s eyes narrowed into slits.

“More than ten years ago, I doubt it was common for households to bake birthday cakes from scratch at home—least of all one filled with red beans,” Choi Yook noted shrewdly.

Mu-yeong clamped his mouth shut. “…”

Choi Yook pressed on ruthlessly, “It’s certain now that you aren’t unable to find your parents, but simply refusing to search for them. Seeing as all sorts of random memories are resurfacing, you should be remembering the reason behind it before long.”

Mu-yeong had no idea Choi Yook had been piecing that together while listening to such trivial chatter. As he struggled over how to respond, the smartphone screen resting on the table lit up.

Mu-yeong glanced down absently before clutching the phone with both hands in a startled jolt. Unlocking it with trembling fingers, the opening line of the text Lee Ho-joon had sent sprang vividly into view.

—“Hyung, that thing you mentioned last time”

Beneath it, a list of various individuals bearing different surnames but the shared given name “Yeon-jae” was laid out. Their addresses, phone numbers, and in one case, even a social media handle. Though he had only skimmed it for a second, his heart thudded wildly in his chest.

Staring transfixed at the screen, Mu-yeong snapped back to his senses and jerked his head up. The moment he met Choi Yook’s expressionless face, his pounding heart seemed to freeze dead in its tracks.

He can’t see this. Mu-yeong hastily set the phone down.

“Sorry about that,” Mu-yeong murmured. “A notification popped up.”

“What notification?” Choi Yook asked, his eyes narrowing.

“Well, um…”

Mu-yeong glanced back down at the phone. Catching sight of the solitary date and time displayed on the screen, an excuse suddenly flashed through his mind. He hastily shoved the device into his pocket before looking up.

“…A notification came through saying Sijin’s birthday isn’t far off,” he said.

The instant the words left his mouth, Mu-yeong grabbed the burger and brought it toward his face, as if the palm-sized bun could serve as a shield to guard his expression. Watching this desperate defense, Choi Yook let out a dry chuckle.

“Clinging to that date won’t do you any good,” Choi Yook remarked. “It’s not his real birthday anyway.”

“Pardon?” Mu-yeong blinked.

“The day Sijin was actually born is different.”

The hand clutching the burger slowly sank. A tremendous shock had struck him square in the head, tangling his tongue in utter bewilderment.

“B-but his resident registration card… I mean…” Mu-yeong stammered.

“Yeah. Even if you checked his ID ages ago, it would say May twenty-second,” Choi Yook said. “The birth registration was fabricated in the first place.”

“Then when is his real birthday?” Mu-yeong asked eagerly.

Choi Yook smirked derisively. “You curious about that?”

Mu-yeong swallowed hard under his scrutiny.

Naturally, he was curious. It wasn’t because he planned to break into Choi Sijin’s apartment on that day, scatter rose petals across the floor, and hang up a banner reading ♥Happy Birthday to Our Beloved Sijin♥—not in the least. It was because he felt he needed to know the exact date in order to reclaim his stolen name.

“Yes, I want to know,” Mu-yeong admitted honestly.

Leaning forward, Mu-yeong’s eyes shone with anticipation. There had to be a distinct reason why Choi Sijin’s birthday had been concealed. Since any error in the ritual could unleash unforeseen consequences, he had to verify the facts with utmost precision.

“When is it? Is it very different from the fake one? It can’t be that far off, right?”

Learning such a secret made shooting the breeze with Choi Yook feel well worth the trouble. Without him realizing it, the burger in his grip was already half-crushed. Choi Yook popped a French fry into his mouth with an air of complete indifference.

“I forgot,” Choi Yook muttered.

“…Pardon?” Mu-yeong asked, blinking in sheer disbelief.

“No one ever celebrated it, and it always passed quietly, so I forgot,” Choi Yook said. “Sijin probably doesn’t even know when he was born either.”

It was a deeply disappointing answer compared to what he had hoped for. Even so, there was no way Mu-yeong’s resolve would waver over something like that.

“If it ever comes back to you later, please let me know,” Mu-yeong urged. “Even just the month.”

Choi Yook gave him a cool look. “What are you going to do once you know?”

“So I can decide how to address him,” Mu-yeong explained earnestly. “Sijin and I might be the same age, but even between peers born in the same year, birthdays determine who is hyung and who is dongsaeng. This is a crucial matter of whether Sijin is my hyung, my dongsaeng, or if we fatefully share the exact same birthday like twins.”

Mu-yeong rattled off a string of nonsensical arguments with impassioned fervor. Choi Yook took a long draw of cola through his straw.

“Wipe that sauce off your face before you speak,” Choi Yook muttered. “Filthy.”

Mu-yeong beamed with delight. “You even notice things like that? You’re so considerate.”

Grinning broadly as though shame were an alien concept to him, Mu-yeong dabbed around his mouth with a napkin. Knowing full well that nothing irritated Choi Yook more than having to repeat himself, however, the size of his next bite grew slightly smaller.

Consequently, his eating pace naturally slowed. Mu-yeong took his time chewing the burger. The tomato, lettuce, patty, and sauce blended together bite by bite beneath the bun. Savory juices seeped from the grill-marked patty, and the sauce carried a sweet and salty mayonnaise base layered with an earthy aroma reminiscent of fallen leaves.

For once, Mu-yeong could truly savor the flavor—unlike the old days, when he had to scramble desperately for his share and wolf it down before it vanished.

Even after reaching adulthood and earning enough money to buy his own food, leisure at mealtimes remained a luxury. Mu-yeong was perpetually busy. He had to run all over the city fulfilling client requests, keep tabs on Choi Sijin in between, and constantly walk on eggshells in restaurants out of fear that someone might sit right on top of him.

Rather than dealing with all that stress, scarfing down meals inside his van had been far preferable. That had been less about eating and more about mechanically chewing and swallowing. That was why Mu-yeong understood what Choi Yook meant when he said that as long as it was a meal, nothing else mattered.

“This is really delicious,” Mu-yeong offered cheerfully. “Should I order one more of the same for you, Section Chief?”

“We’ve already ordered four burgers alone,” Choi Yook pointed out flatly.

Mu-yeong gave a small shrug. “If you don’t want it, never mind. Since you’re so much bigger than me, Section Chief, I figured you’d eat more.”

It wasn’t just his height; the man’s sheer bone structure belonged to an entirely different league. Mu-yeong felt that if Choi Yook were laid flat on top of him while he lay on the floor, he would be crushed to death without anyone ever realizing a human body was underneath. Choi Yook’s response was nonchalant.

“I did grow up eating a lot,” Choi Yook said. “Cleaning up whatever Sijin left behind.”

Coming from anyone else, it would have sounded like a bitter complaint, but coming from Choi Yook, it came across as an ostentatious display of affection. Mu-yeong marveled in genuine awe.

“Then if you ever want to leave anything uneaten, Section Chief, feel free to pass it to me,” Mu-yeong suggested. “I’ll finish it for you. I’m pretty good at eating just about anything.”

Having spent a lifetime solely disposing of someone else’s scraps, Mu-yeong thought the man might appreciate having someone dispose of his for once. It was a thoroughly loyal offer, yet it completely missed the mark with Choi Yook.