UNFED

It was just before the third morning.

It was two in the morning. Hoon was sitting with his back against the wall. Drowsiness came and went.

Watching Lee Jae-in reminded him of his own moment of awakening. Back then, he had also been sitting alone in a dark room like this. There was no one watching over him. Hoon felt a little sorry about that now.

Lee Jae-in’s breathing was labored. It was irregular. He would take a short breath and exhale slowly. If that pattern changed, he would have to move closer.

Around three in the morning, Lee Jae-in suddenly laughed.

Silently. But it was clearly a smile. Hoon saw it and stood up. Sometimes, a sudden laugh was a sign that he had slipped deeper than crying or screaming.

“Ja-in.”

Lee Jae-in didn’t respond.

“Lee Jae-in.”

When he called his name a second time, his eyelids twitched slightly. He hadn’t fully returned yet. He was still inside.

Hoon stepped back. He couldn’t force a break. As long as he was inside, he had to let him pass through from within. Even knowing that, that smile kept bothering him.

* * *

[ Lee Jae-in’s Hallucination — Part Three ]

It was a bright place.

It was different from the first two hallucinations. It wasn’t dark. It was a field. A spring field. Wide and flat. The sky was high. Clouds moved slowly.

Lee Jae-in was standing in the middle of that field. There was grass beneath his feet. The wind blew. His hair fluttered.

There was something strange.

There was no one there. Yet he didn’t feel lonely. In the previous two hallucinations, there had been people: his father back home, and Hyun-soo from the construction site.

It had hurt even more because those people were there . Now, there was no one in this field. Yet his heart didn’t feel heavy.

Lee Jae-in began to walk.

He had no direction. He just walked. Wherever his feet took him. The grass bent under his feet and sprang back up. The wind kept blowing. A bird sang somewhere.

As he walked, he saw something ahead.

It was a house.

It wasn’t his family home. It wasn’t a house on a construction site either. It was a house he had never seen before. It was small and low. It was made of wood. It had two windows.

Grass was growing on the roof. It was a house that seemed unfinished, yet somehow sufficient.

There was no front gate.

Lee Jae-in simply walked in. The inside was empty. There was nothing there. Yet it didn’t feel empty. It felt as though it could be filled. These two feelings were different.

Through the window, he could see a field. A wide field. The wind laid the grass down and then stood it back up.

Lee Jae-in stood in front of that window.

He stood there for a long time.

Then he felt something strange. He wasn’t hungry. In the hallucination. At this very moment, there was no hunger. He couldn’t tell if that was natural or unnatural. It was simply not there.

And that was okay.

It was strange that it was okay. But that thought of strangeness vanished just as quickly.

Lee Jae-in smiled.

Looking out at the fields. Alone. Silently.

* * *

4:30 a.m.

Lee Jae-in opened his eyes.

Slowly. Fully. Hoon watched. It was different from the day before. It was different from the day before that, too. Something had settled in his eyes. It was like the stillness that follows a storm.

Lee Jae-in looked around. He looked at the room. He looked at Hoon. He looked at the darkness outside the window.

And he said slowly.

“I’m not hungry.”

Hoon said nothing.

Lee Jae-in continued.

“Really. I haven’t eaten in three days. I’m not hungry.”

There was a sense of bewilderment in his voice. It wasn’t fear. It was incomprehension.

Hoon said.

"Yeah."

“Is this normal?”

"It’s normal."

It seemed as though Lee Jae-in was mulling over that word for a long time. Normal. Not having to eat was normal. It was a word that clashed with fifty-odd years of common sense.

“That’s amazing.”

Hoon smiled for the first time. He liked that. Not that it was scary, strange, or unbelievable—just fascinating.

* * *

[ 72 Hours — Complete ]

Around sunrise, Lee Jae-in stood up from his seat.

Slowly. His legs trembled slightly. It was only natural after sitting for three days. He stood, holding onto the wall. Hoon reached out his arm. Lee Jae-in took it.

Together, they slowly made their way outside.

It was early morning. Light was beginning to rise over the mountains. The sky was shifting from deep navy to deep blue, and then toward a brighter hue. The dew on the vegetable patch glistened in the light.

Dol, who had been sleeping in a corner of the yard, woke up when the two of them came out and wagged his tail.

Lee Jae-in stood in the middle of the yard.

He stood there silently. He stood beside Hoon.

The spring morning air was cool and clear. A bird sang from somewhere. First one, then two. A breeze coming down from the mountain gently rustled the grass in the vegetable garden.

Lee Jae-in spoke.

“I could see the fields.”

“Yeah.”

“There was a house. I’d never seen it before. It was empty, but it was okay.”

Hoon said nothing. Lee Jae-in continued.

“I wasn’t hungry there. In the hallucination. That was the strangest part.”

There was a moment of silence. The chili pepper seedlings in the garden swayed in the wind.

Lee Jae-in looked at Hoon.

"I think I understand what this is now."

Hoon looked at him.

"What do you think it is?"

Lee Jae-in thought for a moment.

"Freedom."

It was a single word. Short and slow. But its weight was different. Lee Jae-in had always used short phrases, but even among those short phrases, this one word was different.

Hoon took in those words. For a long time.

Freedom.

That was it. Freedom from the condition that one must eat to live.

Freedom from everything that condition had created. Fear, obedience, dependence. Those things had piled up on the circuit of appetite. If that circuit were to be reorganized — the word “freedom” was right.

Hoon said.

“Now there are two of us.”

Lee Jae-in nodded. Then he looked around the yard. The vegetable garden, a single persimmon tree, the old abandoned school building, the mountainside.

“This place is going to feel too cramped.”

Hoon looked at Lee Jae-in.

“Yeah.”

"We’ll need a bigger place."

“Yeah.”

Lee Jae-in looked as if he was thinking about something for a moment. Then he said,

"I’ll pick out the site."

Hoon looked at Lee Jae-in for a moment. Then he smiled.

This was Lee Jae-in. Having just endured 72 hours of agony, standing there in the morning dew, the first thing he said was, “I’ll pick the spot.”

A man whose hands move faster than his mind. A man whose body sets its course before his thoughts are even finished.

Hoon liked that about him.

"Thanks."

Lee Jae-in shook his head.

“I’m the one who should be thanking you.”

The dog darted back and forth between them, wagging its tail. The morning sunlight began to stream into the yard.

Hoon thought to himself as he basked in the morning sunlight.

This is just the beginning.

And he knew that the second seed had touched the ground.