This is My Comfort Blanket

“Senior, you live in such an incredible place!”

“Ah… it’s, well, it’s nothing special….”

Living in a branded luxury apartment right in the heart of Seoul and calling it nothing special?

Yun Dae-eon, who had followed Seon Ji-ha from the university in a taxi, felt a brief wave of intimidation looking up at the high-rise building. From the entrance, three or four security guards were throwing sharp glances, and the communal foyer was decked out in flamboyant gold and English lettering.

Though he lived comfortably on the inheritance left by his parents, Dae-eon was still a commoner. He was part of the ordinary middle class for whom buying a place like this would be impossible without a lifetime of loans.

“So, are your parents home right now?”

“I… live here alone….”

Ji-ha answered slowly, but his hands moved quickly. He took a card key from his wallet and tapped it against the elevator sensor; the lift hummed to life instantly. To Dae-eon, who lived on the fourth floor of an old villa with no elevator, everything here looked like cutting-edge technology.

“You live here alone? Really? Senior, are you rich?”

“I’m not… rich. It’s just….”

Ji-ha denied it, but Dae-eon let the words go in one ear and out the other. Most people call this rich. In his mind, Dae-eon officially labeled Ji-ha as a wealthy man.

Stepping out of the elevator first, Ji-ha headed toward the left of the two doors in the hallway. He pressed his thumb to the scanner, a familiar chime rang out, and the door clicked open. Ji-ha used his large hand to pull back the heavy entrance door.

At his silent gesture to enter, Dae-eon stepped inside with a polite “Excuse me.” As expected, the interior was incredibly spacious and sophisticated—though it was so unnaturally tidy it barely looked lived-in.

The house smelled of the specific “laundry scent” that Ji-ha always carried. He must use expensive fabric softener, Dae-eon thought.

Following behind, Ji-ha took his time neatly lining up the shoes Dae-eon had kicked off alongside his own. Despite his large hands, his movements were remarkably meticulous and gentle.

Finally entering the living room, Ji-ha turned to Dae-eon and asked in his most host-like tone:

“What would you… like to drink…?”

“I’ll have an orange juice, Senior!”

Since it was his first time, he didn’t know what was in stock, but a house like this had to have orange juice. If it didn’t, you should be allowed to report them to the authorities. This was a guarantee from Yun Dae-eon, who had visited hundreds of friends’ houses in his time.

Thankfully, Ji-ha nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. While he was gone, Dae-eon began to quietly scout the apartment.

A high-end wooden table, a luxury leather sofa that could easily seat four, a wall-mounted brand-name TV that looked well over 100 inches….

Rich. This man was definitely rich.

Starting from the building itself, wealth was practically oozing from every corner. Dae-eon, who had been sniffing out “rich house vibes” since he was a kid, admired the interior with a delighted face. It went without saying that touring a wealthy person’s home was always fun.

That was when something caught Dae-eon’s eye. Sitting atop that expensive sofa, which was surely made of the finest leather….

A rag?

“Senior, this looks like a cleaning rag. Should I throw it in the trash?”

“……Pardon?”

It really did look like a rag. Specifically, a rag so old, tattered, and misshapen that it seemed an insult to the luxury sofa it sat upon. Even a patchwork of scraps wouldn’t look this bad.

Dae-eon lifted the “rag” with both hands so Ji-ha could see it clearly from the kitchen. To be honest, he was a bit hesitant to touch it, so he held it very lightly with just his index fingers and thumbs.

“This is a rag, right—?”

Thud, thud, THUD!

It happened then. Ji-ha came charging out of the kitchen. Slamming the refrigerator door shut, he sprinted toward Dae-eon with a heavy, weighted stride. And then—shove.

Dae-eon was pushed back and landed squarely on his backside on the floor. The rag had already been snatched away. It happened so fast that even as he sat on the floor, it took him a moment to realize what had occurred.

Because Dae-eon had fluttered back like a sheet of paper, it seemed like Ji-ha had used immense force, but that wasn’t the case. It was simply that Ji-ha was naturally strong due to his size, and the relatively slender Dae-eon had been easily displaced.

Dae-eon looked down at the floor before looking up with a dazed expression. He saw Ji-ha staring back at him with a look of anger he had never seen before.

“This… is my….”

“Huh? What was that?”

Judging by his eyes, he definitely looked sharp and angry, but having only seen his quiet side until now, Dae-eon wasn’t scared. Dae-eon quietly dusted off his pants as he stood up and asked casually. Ji-ha clutched the rag he had snatched back to his chest and spoke.

“It’s my… comfort blanket….”

“That rag?”

The question popped out before he could stop it. Ji-ha’s eyes sharpened again behind his hair. Those eyes were quite piercing; if it weren’t for the horn-rimmed glasses, he might have looked truly terrifying.

Regardless, the atmosphere suggested Ji-ha was offended. Dae-eon hurried to correct his mistake.

“No, I mean—that blanket?”

“Yes…. I’ve had it since I was five.”

Since he was five…. Dae-eon didn’t know the senior’s exact age, but it had to have been at least twenty years. He still slept with a rag—no, a blanket—that was two decades old?

Despite the “you’re weird” look Dae-eon was giving him, Ji-ha silently and carefully folded the comfort blanket. Since the fabric was torn and there wasn’t a single bit of stuffing left inside, folding it neatly didn’t actually change its appearance much.

Dae-eon watched him blankly. Even though he’d been shoved to the floor, he wasn’t particularly angry. He just realized he had been too careless with someone else’s property. Dae-eon scratched the back of his head and spoke.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was something you cherished.”

It was a sorry thing to say, but no matter how he looked at it, the item was closer to trash than a treasure. Honestly, it didn’t look like it could even fulfill its original purpose as a blanket anymore.

Still, Dae-eon admitted his fault. He had come into someone’s home and handled their belongings too roughly.

At Dae-eon’s apology, the sharp edge in Ji-ha’s eyes softened. He murmured toward Dae-eon as if he were aware of his own eccentricity.

“It’s a bit… strange, right?”

“Yeah. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I tend to… only use one of… well, one of anything… for a long time….”

Ji-ha’s face looked somewhat dejected as he spoke. His shoulders slumped for good measure.

Come to think of it, when he first met Ji-ha outside, Dae-eon hadn’t thought he looked rich at all.

From the white wired earphones that had long gone out of style, to the old-looking plaid shirt and horn-rimmed glasses, and the crowning glory—his ancient phone. The phone was a prehistoric smartphone from the era when they were first invented.

That was why he’d been skeptical while following Ji-ha into the taxi. He wondered if this man really lived in a place like this. But if all of that was due to this “attachment disorder,” it started to make sense.

“Are you usually like that? Hating when things change?”

Ji-ha glanced at Dae-eon and gave a tiny, cautious nod. Dae-eon let out a little chuckle.

“I have things like that too. I still listen to the songs I liked in elementary school, you know?”

“I’m like that too…. Once I fall for something, I only stick to that….”

“Wow. Is that why you’re so good at studying?”

“Studying… just happened… because it wasn’t… very difficult….”

When Dae-eon empathized by saying he was the same way, Ji-ha’s eyes sparkled with delight. The atmosphere, which had turned icy because of the comfort rag, began to melt away with Dae-eon’s single comment.

For Ji-ha, this was a big deal. A self-imposed outsider and loner since childhood, he had a pathological hatred of people speaking carelessly about his precious belongings. Most people—including his family—would usually be horrified by his obsessive level of attachment.

But Yun Dae-eon had validated him, saying it was a perfectly normal thing to do. Ji-ha couldn’t help but be thrilled.

“I’m not… weird…?”

“Hey, Senior, it’s actually harder to keep liking just one thing. We live in a world where everyone only wants new stuff. People get bored so easily.”

“I’m not like that.”

When Dae-eon gave him a thumbs-up and called it a talent, Ji-ha replied shortly. Then, he hesitated before continuing.

“Once I like something, even just once….”

Ji-ha paused for a moment. He seemed to be exercising extreme caution with every single word. Dae-eon didn’t rush him; he simply waited.

Then, finally, Ji-ha spoke.

“……I’ll like it until the day I die.”