[ys] To Find You (8/10)
A/N: I'm sorry for the (relatively) longer break between chapters. Work got crazy - but I'm still hella determined to finish this.
Thank you to everyone who cried, who felt along with Joo-hyun.
+++
She doesn’t remember much else from that night.
She doesn’t remember how they get to Tae-yeon’s, but she remembers her unnie, stumbling out into the darkness, her eyes wide and frightened. Tae-yeon’s open arms, curling around her so tightly, so protectively and then it’s okay for Joo-hyun to weep, to sob, because she is safe.
She must have blacked out after that because she has no recollection of going to bed, but that’s exactly where she wakes up the next morning, puddled in blankets in Tae-yeon’s room.
The sunshine is warm on her face; this is quite possibly the latest she’s ever woken up, and for a moment, Joo-hyun just lies there - still, peaceful, not thinking about anything.
There is a note from Tae-yeon unnie, along with porridge for breakfast, telling her to rest and that she will come by during lunch to check up on her.
Joo-hyun spends the morning doing some household chores, as thanks to Tae-yeon for putting her up on such notice. Even though her hands are preoccupied, her thoughts have been cycling around with an intensity that has left her listless. There are so many possibilities, Joo-hyun thinks, even as she waits in the living room for the arrival of Tae-yeon, that’s the problem. Too many things could go right, but they could also go wrong.
That’s what I’m afraid of.
She hears the faint whirr of bicycle gears outside the house; shuts her eyes to give her one last moment of composure, one last breath of courage for the decision that she’s come to.
The door opens with a dry creak and Tae-yeon enters; removing her shoes. “I’m home!”
She stands as her unnie rushes over, putting her arms around Joo-hyun. “How are you feeing?”
It’s nice, Joo-hyun thinks, returning the hug, to feel this safe and loved and protected for once in a long, long time. “I’m fine, unnie.”
Tae-yeon releases her, holding her nonetheless at arm’s length so that she can get a good look at Joo-hyun. “Thank you, unnie.” Joo-hyun says softly. “For last night. I can’t imagine what would have happened if… if I hadn’t come here. I had nowhere else to go.”
“Silly girl,” Tae-yeon chides, pulling her back into another tight hug. “You know that you can always come to me. I want you to come to me. Okay?” Even though Tae-yeon sounds like her usual cheerful self, when they separate, Joo-hyun notices her unnie’s eyes are shiny and wet with tears, and that Tae-yeon has to turn away to dab at her eyes.
“By the way, maknae,” Tae-yeon says. “Someone else is here to see you.”
Joo-hyun knows who it is even before Tae-yeon says it; Yong-hwa stands in the doorway, holding a package of food, and his eyes are dark and anxious.
Joo-hyun still feels it; that sharp needle-point of disgrace and humiliation as she thinks about Yong-hwa finding her last night. Yong-hwa even looks at her differently now - like she’s fragile, something that might break apart before his eyes - instead of with his usual teasing or warmth.
She swallows, looks down briefly before making herself look at him. “Yong-hwa.”
But there is concern, weighty and real, in his eyes that makes her soften. This is Yong-hwa oppa; who takes her to and from work everyday, who tells her bad jokes to make her laugh, who saves her food at lunch. This is Yong-hwa oppa who would rather cut off his right arm before even thinking about hurting her; who cares about what she thinks, what she wants and what she feels.
A lump grows in her throat.
His voice is low and tense, “Are you okay?”
And though things are strange between them, Joo-hyun hears it; hears the sincerity, the overwhelming worry in his voice. Unbidden, her eyes well up with tears that come too quick for her to stop. “Yes,” She says, wiping at her cheeks, but she smiles at him so he knows that she’s telling the truth. “I’m okay, oppa.”
The three of them sit down to lunch; a quick one, since Tae-yeon and Yong-hwa have to go back to work. While Joo-hyun thinks of their other usual lunchmates with a pang, she’s still glad that only Tae-yeon and Yong-hwa came today, which means that likely no one else from their group knows about this.
They eat, and talk, and for those fifteen minutes, they talk about everything else but the night before. And it’s nice - nice to feel as though it didn’t happen, even if for a little while.
But when the last of the rice is gone, and when Tae-yeon returns from putting the dishes away, the two of them look right at Joo-hyun and she knows that this is it.
She interlocks her fingers in her lap; not looking either of them in the eye. “I’m not going to the police.”
Immediately, Joo-hyun senses, rather than sees, their disapproval of this, but perhaps for her sake more than anything; they try to be gentle about it.
“Maknae - “ Tae-yeon begins.
“Unnie,” Joo-hyun says, over her, softly and Tae-yeon falls silent.
“You yourself told me that this has happened to girls before in the factory. For the past 3 years, since he was promoted. No one reported this to the police. No one quit. Except - ”
“Except Ha-yeon.” Tae-yeon says, and her unnie’s eyes are sad and understanding, and Joo-hyun nods because Tae-yeon gets it now.
Yong-hwa looks between them. “Who is Ha-yeon?”
“A girl from Manufacturing. She was from the microwave line.” Tae-yeon says quietly. “She reported it. Reported him.”
Joo-hyun lets Tae-yeon tell the story; she only knows bits and pieces of it, but even today, the name Ha-yeon is still circulated among the girls, in bits of whispered gossip, like a spectre that still haunts the factory.
“He was barely a year into his role as manager. Just gotten married too,” Tae-yeon’s lip curls at the memory. “Tried to rape her in broad daylight in his own office. We all saw her come down the stairs; blouse torn, bruised cheek, in tears.”
Joo-hyun closes her eyes, and an involuntary shiver runs down her back because she can see it all so clearly in her mind’s eye.
“She went to the police.” Tae-yeon shakes her head. “Of course she did. He’d done more than touch her; he assaulted her.”
Yong-hwa is deathly still, listening.
“But in the end, the police decided that a respectable factory manager, one so freshly married to boot, would never have touched one of his female workers.” Tae-yeon spits. “He was given a choice - fine or jail time for hitting her but that’s all. And guess which he took?”
The answer, unspoken, hangs in the air between all of them, like acrid cigarette smoke.
Tae-yeon sighs. “Gossip got out about this - maybe he did it; I don’t know. But everyone in the town was gossiping about how Ha-yeon had thrown herself at him, how she’d been seen going in and out of his office the months before.”
Yong-hwa’s voice catches. “What happened to her?”
“Ha-yeon moved.” Tae-yeon says. She looks down at her hands. “Couldn’t find another job here - the disgrace was too much, no one would take her in, and the gossip was vicious. Her whole family moved out of Su-won. But she never, ever got the justice she deserved.”
The room is silent in that aftermath of that story, but Joo-hyun senses that the balance of judgement in the room has been tipped in her favour - there’s no longer that initial resistance. At least, on Tae-yeon unnie’s part.
True to form, Yong-hwa speaks up. “Hyun, I don’t know. I… I don’t feel comfortable with you going back to work with that… with that asshole. Can’t you - ”
“Find another job?” Joo-hyun supplies. Her next words, though directed at Yong-hwa, bear no malice. “You moved from Busan to work here, oppa. You know as well as I do, that factory work pays.”
She is silent for a moment, thinking of her parents; of their humble fruit stall which only does well depending on the harvest for that year. She remembers the tiredness in her father’s eyes, the way her mother had clutched at her father’s hand, almost as if clinging to him for the strength she needed, when they had told her together many years ago, you can’t go back to school, Joo-hyun. We need you here.
She remembers the tightness in her throat, the way she’d nodded stiffly because… what else was there left to say?
The next day, she applied to Samsung Electric to work in their Su-won factory.
The look on Yong-hwa’s face can best be described as torn, almost like he wants to disagree but can’t find the words; and Joo-hyun thinks, with some growing exhaustion, enough.
“It’s my choice,” She says softly, trotting out her best argument, her only argument left. “Please.”
And after that, there’s not much that anyone can say.
+++
Yong-hwa may have acquiesced to her decision, but the look on his face when he picks her up the next day, suggests that he’s clearly anything but happy about this.
Joo-hyun isn’t in the mood for a fight, which is why she doesn’t engage; simply blocks out as much of Yong-hwa’s black mood as she can on their morning ride. Tae-yeon had urged her to take one more day of rest, but Joo-hyun knows that there’s only so many days she can put off the inevitable. Might as well get it over and done with.
But the bravado that Joo-hyun had talked herself into, quivers, just the slightest, when the gates of the factory come into sight. Joo-hyun presses a hand against her stomach, against the sudden rush of queasiness that she didn’t anticipate feeling.
Yong-hwa must pick up on some of her unease, because when the bike comes to a stop, he hopes off, drawing close to her as if he’s physically shielding her from something. “It’s not too late to turn around.” He says, lowly.
Joo-hyun bites back the instinctive bitterness that rises up within her. It’s too late to make anything right.
Instead, she shakes her head, swings herself off the bicycle. Her hand scrabble deep into the pockets of her cardigan; trying to find something to hold onto, but there is nothing but empty, soft wool, bunching up beneath her fingers.
She takes one step, and then another. All the while, she feels the presence of Yong-hwa at her back; watchful, watching her, and somehow, that gives her the blind courage to keep moving.
They make it into the factory and Joo-hyun barely has time to think, that wasn’t so bad; maybe I really can do this -
And then, her feet come skidding to an abrupt halt, so abrupt that she feels the sudden brush of Yong-hwa’s hand on her back, bracing her so that she doesn’t fall back over.
Joo-hyun’s heart is racing and her breath is shallow in her ears.
It’s Manager Kim, standing there beside the locker rooms.
Joo-hyun knows immediately that this isn’t some random morning inspection; this is intentional and purposeful and vindictive.
As if confirming her suspicions, Manager Kim sees her. It might be a trick of the light; it might not, but Joo-hyun thinks she sees him smile.
There is a sudden swell of sickness within her; so much like the first time he laid a hand on her, and Joo-hyun only barely feels Yong-hwa’s whisper, urgent and loud in her ear. “Hyun.”
At this point, it is really only by sheer willpower that Joo-hyun forces herself forward. That and the fear that she might do something truly awful, like throw up or lose it in front of everyone here.
She tells herself not to look at him, but it’s also like scratching at a scab so hard that it bleeds all over again. Because it’s all coming back to her in flashes and pieces: his mouth, wet and forceful against her own. Her body struggling fruitlessly against his arms. The awful rip of her blouse. The way her shoes squeaked on the floor as she ran.
And Joo-hyun knows she’ll never be free of this. Never be free of him, not as long as she stays here.
But what other choice does she have?
She thinks for one awful moment that he might stop her, might say something to her - in which case, she doesn’t know what she will do, honestly - but mercifully, he says nothing to her, lets her go.
Joo-hyun barely has time to enjoy a brief rush of relief, before she realizes something else.
She’s alone.
She turns around in time to see Yong-hwa who has stopped following her, and is instead, standing right in front of Manager Kim.
Joo-hyun has never seen Yong-hwa look like this; his face carved in fury, his hands in stony fists by his side, every line of his body tense and sharp. She knows the danger before she sees it happening.
But in the time it takes her to suck in a breath, she sees Yong-hwa’s arm draw back and connect with Manager Kim’s face in a crunch so loud she takes an involuntary step back.
And then there is sound and fury in equal measures; Manager Kim stumbling back over, Yong-hwa on his knees, striking out violently, the wet sound of bone against skin, over and over again. Like a faint buzz in the background, there are wild shouts and jostling, even as the workers pour in to witness the fight.
Joo-hyun takes a step forward, thinking to stop the fight, wanting to do something. But before she can go any further, she feels another pair of arms wrap themselves around her, holding her in place. Tae-yeon unnie.
Although Tae-yeon shakes her head, her eyes are also wide and frightened. “Don’t, maknae,” She says, breathless. “You’ll only get hurt.”
But she also cannot let Yong-hwa oppa get hurt, Joo-hyun thinks, panic pushing into her thoughts.
Thankfully, she spots a few men breaking through the crowd - Teuk, the foreman, Jong-hyun and Jung-shin, and they pull Yong-hwa and Manager Kim apart forcefully, keeping a safe distance between the pair of them.
Manager Kim is obviously the worse off one; with his left eye already swelling shut, clutching his jaw as if it’s broken. Yong-hwa didn’t escape unscathed either; his right cheek mottling purple, and he spits out a mouthful of blood that makes Joo-hyun’s heart squeeze in on itself.
But Yong-hwa isn’t done - not by a long shot.
“You fucking bastard!” Joo-hyun startles involuntarily at the anger in Yong-hwa’s voice; never before has she ever glimpsed this side of him. Thankfully, Jong-hyun and Jung-shin are still holding him back, because Yong-hwa looks like he’s about to lunge at Manager Kim all over again.
“Does it give you some kind of sick satisfaction to force yourself on girls?” Yong-hwa shouts. “Some kind of power trip in your twisted mind? Well, here’s the truth: it doesn’t make you more of a man; it just makes you a fucking low-life!”
The assembled workers are silent now, watching. Joo-hyun sees a few of the girls from her line, huddled together, gripping each other’s hands.
There is a sudden sound from Manager Kim, who roughly shakes off Teuk’s grip on him. He coughs, wiping away a trickle of blood from his lip, and it is now Joo-hyun’s turn to feel a mean rush of pleasure.
His voice is rusty, when he speaks. “You…. you’re fired, Jung Yong-hwa. Get… the hell… out of my factory.”
At his words, Joo-hyun’s heart seems to drop all the way to her toes. No. No.
The anger seems to have bled out of Yong-hwa, but when he speaks, there are traces of a simmering fury. “With pleasure.”
Jong-hyun and Jung-shin have also let go of Yong-hwa at this point, but it still surprises everyone when Yong-hwa stalks forward, until he’s right up in Manager Kim’s face.
But Yong-hwa doesn’t lash out at Manager Kim, doesn’t shout.
“If you ever touch any of these girls again,” Yong-hwa says evenly, and he doesn’t have to raise his voice for everyone to hear the latent threat in them. “I promise you’ll be going to the police. In pieces.”
Manager Kim blanches, plain as day.
Yong-hwa has already turned away, and now he strides up to Joo-hyun, taking her hand in his, and Joo-hyun only manages a last look over her shoulder at Tae-yeon as she’s led away.
It strikes her ironically, how gentle he is with her, in light of the beating he just gave Manager Kim. Yet, Joo-hyun can’t help but worry - what are they going to do about Yong-hwa’s lost job?
They wind up outdoors, in a corner of the factory compound that is relatively deserted. Joo-hyun finds a rag, dousing it with cold water and dabbing it over his cheek futilely. What they really need is something cold, she thinks, eyes running over his bruised knuckles, his swollen cheek.
Still, she fetches him a cup of water and as he gargles and spits, there is blood mixed in with the water. Joo-hyun bites her own lip, anxious.
Yong-hwa must see the worry in her face, because he tugs her closer, their fingers still laced together. “I’m fine, Hyun.” He says soothingly, like he didn’t just beat up their factory manager and lose his job all in the space of 10 minutes. She can see it though; the aftershocks of the fight fracturing themselves across his face, the breathlessness that punctuates his words. “Stop worrying.”
Joo-hyun worries her lip between her teeth all the same, letting her hand drop from his cheek. “Yong-hwa… why did you do that?”
“What do you mean?” Yong-hwa’s eyes are a question, but in them, she glimpses a brief flare of his old anger. “Because he’s an asshole? Because he… he forced himself on you and shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it?”
“No,” Joo-hyun says, even softer now, and Yong-hwa falls silent. “I mean, why did you do that?”
There is silence for a moment between them; a silence heavy with things not yet said between the pair of them. Yong-hwa’s hand is warm and strong around hers, and Joo-hyun closes her eyes.
Then she feels it, his other hand coming up to cup her cheek, and Yong-hwa oppa is standing now, looking at her and his lips are parting to say something…
“Yong-hwa.”
Joo-hyun turns; Teuk oppa is standing there, and he looks worried and upset.
Yong-hwa’s hand falls away from her cheek, and he takes a step towards their foreman. “Hyung.” He says easily, his voice slipping back into its normal timbre.
Joo-hyun isn’t surprised by the term of familiarity between the pair of them. Lee-teuk (or Teuk for short), is beloved by everyone in their factory as the foreman. He knows almost all the workers in the factory, is kind, cheerful and genuine, the perfect foil to Manager Kim. Joo-hyun herself grew up with Teuk oppa, who is a Su-won native, who went to the same high school as her.
But Teuk oppa isn’t smiling now. Instead, he looks sorry, jamming his hands into his pockets. “Yong-hwa,” He starts, trailing off, but Yong-hwa seems to know what the older man wants.
“It’s okay, hyung,”He says, lifting a hand to stem the foreman’s words. “I know this isn’t you; its him. I’m leaving now, I promise.”
Teuk sighs, long and loud. “I’m sorry, Yong-hwa yah.”
Yong-hwa shakes his head. “Don’t be. I knew what I was getting myself into.”
“If there’s ever anything,” Teuk says, stepping forward to give Yong-hwa a hug. “Any shadow of an opportunity of getting you back here - I’ll do it. You have my word.”
“Yeah, because who else will keep the boys from Packaging in line?” Yong-hwa jokes as he steps back, but there is an unexpected flatness to it - because who can laugh under the present circumstances?
“Hyung, just… just give me 2 minutes, okay?” Yong-hwa gestures towards her and Teuk seems to get it, nodding and stepping around the corner.
Yong-hwa turns to her then, and Joo-hyun is shocked to find that she is not ready; not ready to say good-bye, not ready to not see him everyday at work. “Oppa.”
His hands are warm on either side of her face now, tilting her face up to look him in the eye and momentarily, Joo-hyun falls silent.
“I did it, because I love you, Seo Joo-hyun.” Yong-hwa says softly, and the words are like a knife to her heart, sharp and twisting. “I love you, and it hurts me that this is the only thing I could do for you.”
His lips brush her forehead in a feather light kiss that is more breath than anything else. Joo-hyun doesn’t know when her hands drifted up to wrap themselves around his wrists, but she holds on because it is the only thing she can do now.
“I’m sorry,” Yong-hwa whispers, his forehead pressed against hers. “I should have been there to stop him, but I wasn’t, and he hurt you.”
Joo-hyun shakes her head mutely, as tears slip out the sides of her eyes. It strikes her belatedly that she’s not the only one struggling with misplaced guilt in this entire fiasco.
When Yong-hwa pulls away, his eyes are damp too, and he turns away to wipe them on the sleeve of his shirt. Joo-hyun knows that it is now or never - that she should say the words she’s been holding in her heart for awhile now, but she holds her tongue. Not like this, she thinks blindly. Not when things are such a mess.
Yong-hwa gives her a wan smile; a last-ditch attempt at making everything seem okay, even when they’re really falling to pieces. “Take care, Hyun.” He says, and then he is gone.