[06.] deadly number thirty-three
[06.] deadly number thirty-three
woohyun pays a visit to myungsoo's house five years after sungyeol dies || woohyun/sungyeol, myungsoo/sungyeol || pg
based on a translation of this japanese riddle here
Woohyun’s not sure why he’s sitting in a car right now, driving to Myungsoo’s house.
It’s too early on a Saturday morning, and Woohyun has better things to be doing -- but it’s also the day before the fifth anniversary of Sungyeol’s death, and Myungsoo had called Woohyun and invited him to stay overnight and pay their respects to Sungyeol together, an invitation that was hard to refuse. You don’t refuse the dead.
So Woohyun had accepted, but only for Sungyeol. Woohyun doesn’t like Myungsoo. In fact, the only reason he knows Myungsoo is because Sungyeol had moved together with him, lured by promises of happiness and unconditional love, leaving Woohyun behind and all alone. The last time Woohyun had seen Myungsoo was at Sungyeol’s funeral.
Now that Woohyun thinks about it, Myungsoo hadn’t even cried. He had just stood there with a blank face throughout the entire ceremony. That cold-hearted bastard.
Three hours later, Woohyun pulls into the driveway. Myungsoo’s (and Sungyeol’s too, he supposes) house is located a fair distance away from the main city, in a little county village. It’s spacious, with a wilting flower garden and overgrown grass. Sungyeol would’ve liked it.
“Ah, Nam Woohyun,” a voice greets, “you’re here. Please come in.”
Woohyun steps out of the car and nods slightly in greeting. Myungsoo still looks the same as he did five years ago, face stoic, eyes piercing. Woohyun walks towards the entrance of the house, and Myungsoo’s lips curl up uncharacteristically.
Woohyun feels a chill run down his spine.
It’s not just Myungsoo who looks the same as he did five years ago -- the house does too. The interior design is almost exactly the same, furniture undisturbed, and Woohyun swears that even the brand of toilet paper hasn’t changed.
Myungsoo’s in the kitchen, cooking lunch. Woohyun’s never stayed over long enough to taste his cooking -- most of his visits were just a quick checkup on Sungyeol and his condition, and then he’d excuse himself from Myungsoo’s hostile stare and make his way back home, a strange niggling feeling on the back of his mind that was gone the next morning.
Sungyeol’s onset of dementia had been too early and too fast for Woohyun to understand. Sungyeol wasn’t even forty, wasn’t even pushing forty, and he didn’t have a family history of Alzheimers or a traumatic brain injury as far as Woohyun knew, so dementia was a shocking diagnosis. It was puzzling and heartbreaking to see the Sungyeol he once knew breaking down into an incoherent mess, unable to even recognise Woohyun in the later stages of his illness.
Woohyun’s currently sitting in the lounge room waiting for Myungsoo to finish cooking. He can smell whiffs of tomato, leek, and beef. Myungsoo’s probably making a soup, and it would take at least another half hour for the beef to stew. It wouldn’t hurt to look around the house while he waited.
Sungyeol’s study is just down the hallway, past the toilet. Woohyun pushes open the door and coughs. It’s covered in a layer of dust. Woohyun wonders if Myungsoo’s even set foot into this room after Sungyeol’s passing -- but from the looks of it, it’s been undisturbed ever since.
Woohyun walks in, runs a finger along the edge of Sungyeol’s desk and wrinkles his nose. Medical students were always taught to keep things clean and dust free. Sungyeol would probably be turning in his grave at the sight of his study now.
Woohyun quietly shuts the door. He rummages through the things on the desk. There’s a cup, insides stained brown, most likely from the straight black coffee Sungyeol likes to drink -- he’d downed one of those every single morning during college, and even more during their busy exam period -- but his consistency and love of routine was probably what had gotten him such good marks. Woohyun, on the other hand, had been a horrible student. He’d failed their chemistry unit (which Sungyeol had aced and gloated about to his face), because Woohyun had never been able to memorise and recite the periodic table off by heart as well as Sungyeol could.
Woohyun moves a sheet of paper, and comes across an old chemistry handbook he’d given to Sungyeol on their first anniversary. He smiles. So Sungyeol had kept it. Woohyun was sure that he’d thrown it away when they broke up.
He flips through the book and frowns. Something’s not right.
There are little black circles in thick marker on the bottom corner of the book, around the page numbers, with another number marked next to them. Sungyeol had always been insistent about keeping his books completely mark-free, and only ever used post-its. He’d never mark his books like this unless he absolutely had to.
Woohyun inspects the book carefully. Page 2 is circled, with a big 1 next to it, then pages 7 and 8 with the numbers 11 and 3 respectively. Page 74 has two numbers, 6 and 13. There are twelve pages circled altogether. Woohyun takes a pencil from the holder and a piece of paper and writes them them down, in the order of the numbers scrawled in marker on the pages.
2 27 8 19 16 74 53 90 33
44 7 102 74
He stares at it in puzzlement. If it’s a code, he can’t make sense of it.
“Woohyun. What are you doing in here?”
Woohyun jumps and turns around to come face to face with Myungsoo. He hurriedly hides the book and scrunches the paper up in his hands. Myungsoo looks to Woohyun’s hands and narrows his eyes, but says nothing more.
“The beef soup is ready. Let’s eat.”
Myungsoo gestures firmly towards the door, a hard, angry, insistent look in his eyes, and Woohyun reluctantly walks out of the study. He slips the paper into his pocket as he makes his way to the kitchen, where he sees two steaming bowls of soup. Myungsoo sits down and looks pointedly at Woohyun.
Woohyun hesitates, but sits down and takes his spoon. After all, the drive had been long, and he’s quite hungry.
Sungyeol’s code could wait until after lunch.
a/n: it makes more sense if you figure out the code -- highlight below for clues/answer.
1. think about chemistry.
2. remember how sungyeol knows the periodic table off by heart?
3. piece the symbols together.
ans. each number represents an element of the period table. putting the symbols for each element together, the code gives you 'he cooks with arsenic. run now'. sungyeol had been poisoned by myungsoo, and he's warning woohyun.
woohyun pays a visit to myungsoo's house five years after sungyeol dies || woohyun/sungyeol, myungsoo/sungyeol || pg
based on a translation of this japanese riddle here
Woohyun’s not sure why he’s sitting in a car right now, driving to Myungsoo’s house.
It’s too early on a Saturday morning, and Woohyun has better things to be doing -- but it’s also the day before the fifth anniversary of Sungyeol’s death, and Myungsoo had called Woohyun and invited him to stay overnight and pay their respects to Sungyeol together, an invitation that was hard to refuse. You don’t refuse the dead.
So Woohyun had accepted, but only for Sungyeol. Woohyun doesn’t like Myungsoo. In fact, the only reason he knows Myungsoo is because Sungyeol had moved together with him, lured by promises of happiness and unconditional love, leaving Woohyun behind and all alone. The last time Woohyun had seen Myungsoo was at Sungyeol’s funeral.
Now that Woohyun thinks about it, Myungsoo hadn’t even cried. He had just stood there with a blank face throughout the entire ceremony. That cold-hearted bastard.
Three hours later, Woohyun pulls into the driveway. Myungsoo’s (and Sungyeol’s too, he supposes) house is located a fair distance away from the main city, in a little county village. It’s spacious, with a wilting flower garden and overgrown grass. Sungyeol would’ve liked it.
“Ah, Nam Woohyun,” a voice greets, “you’re here. Please come in.”
Woohyun steps out of the car and nods slightly in greeting. Myungsoo still looks the same as he did five years ago, face stoic, eyes piercing. Woohyun walks towards the entrance of the house, and Myungsoo’s lips curl up uncharacteristically.
Woohyun feels a chill run down his spine.
It’s not just Myungsoo who looks the same as he did five years ago -- the house does too. The interior design is almost exactly the same, furniture undisturbed, and Woohyun swears that even the brand of toilet paper hasn’t changed.
Myungsoo’s in the kitchen, cooking lunch. Woohyun’s never stayed over long enough to taste his cooking -- most of his visits were just a quick checkup on Sungyeol and his condition, and then he’d excuse himself from Myungsoo’s hostile stare and make his way back home, a strange niggling feeling on the back of his mind that was gone the next morning.
Sungyeol’s onset of dementia had been too early and too fast for Woohyun to understand. Sungyeol wasn’t even forty, wasn’t even pushing forty, and he didn’t have a family history of Alzheimers or a traumatic brain injury as far as Woohyun knew, so dementia was a shocking diagnosis. It was puzzling and heartbreaking to see the Sungyeol he once knew breaking down into an incoherent mess, unable to even recognise Woohyun in the later stages of his illness.
Woohyun’s currently sitting in the lounge room waiting for Myungsoo to finish cooking. He can smell whiffs of tomato, leek, and beef. Myungsoo’s probably making a soup, and it would take at least another half hour for the beef to stew. It wouldn’t hurt to look around the house while he waited.
Sungyeol’s study is just down the hallway, past the toilet. Woohyun pushes open the door and coughs. It’s covered in a layer of dust. Woohyun wonders if Myungsoo’s even set foot into this room after Sungyeol’s passing -- but from the looks of it, it’s been undisturbed ever since.
Woohyun walks in, runs a finger along the edge of Sungyeol’s desk and wrinkles his nose. Medical students were always taught to keep things clean and dust free. Sungyeol would probably be turning in his grave at the sight of his study now.
Woohyun quietly shuts the door. He rummages through the things on the desk. There’s a cup, insides stained brown, most likely from the straight black coffee Sungyeol likes to drink -- he’d downed one of those every single morning during college, and even more during their busy exam period -- but his consistency and love of routine was probably what had gotten him such good marks. Woohyun, on the other hand, had been a horrible student. He’d failed their chemistry unit (which Sungyeol had aced and gloated about to his face), because Woohyun had never been able to memorise and recite the periodic table off by heart as well as Sungyeol could.
Woohyun moves a sheet of paper, and comes across an old chemistry handbook he’d given to Sungyeol on their first anniversary. He smiles. So Sungyeol had kept it. Woohyun was sure that he’d thrown it away when they broke up.
He flips through the book and frowns. Something’s not right.
There are little black circles in thick marker on the bottom corner of the book, around the page numbers, with another number marked next to them. Sungyeol had always been insistent about keeping his books completely mark-free, and only ever used post-its. He’d never mark his books like this unless he absolutely had to.
Woohyun inspects the book carefully. Page 2 is circled, with a big 1 next to it, then pages 7 and 8 with the numbers 11 and 3 respectively. Page 74 has two numbers, 6 and 13. There are twelve pages circled altogether. Woohyun takes a pencil from the holder and a piece of paper and writes them them down, in the order of the numbers scrawled in marker on the pages.
2 27 8 19 16 74 53 90 33
44 7 102 74
He stares at it in puzzlement. If it’s a code, he can’t make sense of it.
“Woohyun. What are you doing in here?”
Woohyun jumps and turns around to come face to face with Myungsoo. He hurriedly hides the book and scrunches the paper up in his hands. Myungsoo looks to Woohyun’s hands and narrows his eyes, but says nothing more.
“The beef soup is ready. Let’s eat.”
Myungsoo gestures firmly towards the door, a hard, angry, insistent look in his eyes, and Woohyun reluctantly walks out of the study. He slips the paper into his pocket as he makes his way to the kitchen, where he sees two steaming bowls of soup. Myungsoo sits down and looks pointedly at Woohyun.
Woohyun hesitates, but sits down and takes his spoon. After all, the drive had been long, and he’s quite hungry.
Sungyeol’s code could wait until after lunch.
a/n: it makes more sense if you figure out the code -- highlight below for clues/answer.
1. think about chemistry.
2. remember how sungyeol knows the periodic table off by heart?
3. piece the symbols together.
ans. each number represents an element of the period table. putting the symbols for each element together, the code gives you 'he cooks with arsenic. run now'. sungyeol had been poisoned by myungsoo, and he's warning woohyun.