A young man in his twenties, in neat, well ironed clothes. His hair gelled and combed. With a file case and his wallet in one hand. A little bit of gloom hung in his eyes and his feet were dragged.
Another job interview had just been over. But he had only slim hope. Another interview which would be forgotten after days of no response.
There was no one at the bus stop. Jinyoung seated himself on the bench and checked the time. Almost noon. His hands were a little sweaty. He placed his things on the bench and massaged his neck, which felt so stiff, with his eyes on the ground.
Then he felt the presence of something big beside him and before he could look up, it had moved past him and all he could catch a glimpse of was two legs. And his wallet was gone.
What the hell! Now he saw some guy running away, with his wallet for certain. Jinyoung grabbed the file case and chased after the thief, shouting for help. It was just his luck that no one was around. Oh yeah, there was a middle-aged woman on the opposite pavement, who was just staring at the commotion.
The thief was much quicker than Jinyoung, who was panicking and starting to think his wallet would soon be a lost one to him. They were now near a shopping mall, in front of which were a lot of people.
The thief must have wanted to avoid crowds. He crossed the street when there was the 'Don't Walk' sign and almost got hit by a car. And that was when Jinyoung caught him.
He dragged the thief away from the cursing driver, back to the pavement. His wallet was back in his hand safe.
"Please let me go. You've already got your thing back," the thief, who was of Jinyoung's age, said, trying to cover his face and to break loose.
"I'm going to hand you to the police." Back on the pavement, Jinyoung could finally have a good look at the guy. He was in a black hoodie and his cheekbones were a little bit too prominent. They did not look like his natural features. Most likely as a result of having been starved or lack of sleep.
"Do you even know how much is in the wallet you were trying to steal?" Honestly, Jinyoung had brought only a very small amount. But his important cards and phone were inside. It would be a disaster if he lost them.
"As long as there's enough for a meal," the guy said, grudgingly. "I haven't eaten for one and a half days. Let go of me now."
"Nope. You're going to steal something from someone else again, if I let you go."
Jinyoung felt a little sympathetic with the guy. He checked his money and finding that there was enough to feed two mouths, he said, "I'll treat you to lunch. But only at a cheap restaurant."
The guy's face brightened with no more trace of impatience. "Anything's fine. As long as I can live with my stomach full for a few hours."
They searched for a restaurant - a cheap one as Jinyoung had said. He was still wary and kept a firm grasp on his wallet, judging the guy every two minutes. They found a Chinese noodle restaurant and got a table inside the busy, noisy place. Jinyoung ordered for both of them.
"Are you a real thief?" Jinyoung asked. The guy did not look like a criminal. He even had fine, gentle features.
"Is there anything like 'fake thief' then?" the guy snickered. "I know what you mean. But if I tell you the truth, you're gonna report everything back to the police. Are you going to send me to the police station afterwards?"
"I haven't decided yet. I've no desire to complicate the matter. But if you're really a criminal, I'm gonna call the police as soon as the lunch's finished."
"Then I'm not a criminal. I was hungry and just a fun fact, I've nowhere in particular to sleep either," said the guy with a shrug, as if he were talking about someone else.
"You've had nothing to eat. Have nowhere to sleep. How do you still survive? Don't you have any job?"
"I've been like that for more than a month. Well, it's a long story. And no job. Otherwise, I wouldn't have needed to snatch away your wallet. It kind of turns me on though."
Having been nearly handed to the police turned this guy on? Jinyoung shook his head incredulously. Their food arrived then and it was steaming and smelled delicious. The guy's eyes were all on it, his hand grabbing the chopsticks so fast it bumped against the sauce bottle.
"Aren't you even going to thank me?"
"Well, thank you," the guy said, his mouth muffled. He had consumed one third of his food already when Jinyoung had not even touched his own.
About half an hour ago, food had been the last thing Jinyoung had had in mind. But having run a good deal, eating was appealing to him now. Who would have thought that he would be having lunch together with the same person who had tried to run off with his wallet? And as it turned out, he did not call the police.
"Samchon, I'm back!" Jinyoung shouted, before finding his uncle in the small living-room, reading a newspaper. Park Sangchul, his uncle, glanced up at him, the bridge of his spectacles draped over his nose.
"Did it go well?"
"I hope so. No, I don't think so," Jinyoung groaned. The interview was already quite out of his mind. "Have you had lunch?"
"Of course. What time is it now already?" Sangchul asked, rhetorically. "Go have some."
"I've already eaten. And it was the strangest meal I've ever had." Jinyoung recounted everything of the incident.
"That was the right thing to do. You must help people who're unfortunate."
"But I think he's been stealing like that for long. And he nearly gave me a heart attack. I was this close to get the police. Ahh! I don't want to think about that anymore. I'll go and wash."
Jinyoung moved into his room and started taking off his clothes for a shower. The place they lived in was really small. Only his bedroom, his uncle's, the living-room and the kitchen. And the kitchen was so tiny that they always had to have meals on a small, foldable table in the living-room.
Attached to their place was a spacious hall where community meetings and gatherings were held. In fact, the whole place was a community centre. Sangchul was in charge of every event held there. He and Jinyoung were busy every two weeks, arranging gatherings for the members and serving them food. The cost was covered by the fund. Sangchul was paid, not very much but just enough to survive.
Jinyoung had just graduated with a bachelor's degree in Japanese language the previous year. He had always lived with his uncle since his parents' death. He was just as hopeless as he could be when it came to having a stable job although translating articles from Korean to Japanese and vice versa online as a freelancer gave him some income.
Another source of income came from those parents who could not watch their little kids due to their job and paid Jinyoung to take care of them. At first, those restless, shrieking, crying kids were a misery - a psychological strain - to him but now he even loved them. They were a comfort to his more or less jobless life.
