Han-gyeom leaned into Seo Won’s hand, feeling the warmth that naturally blended with the cool sea breeze.
“Actually, I don’t like the sea,” Han-gyeom said, looking down at his feet. Through the transparent ice, he could see the gentle waves below. Despite the potential fear of falling, Seo Won’s presence brought a sense of security.
“I didn’t feel anything special about it. I was just… curious.”
Song Yeon-woo had always spoken about the sea with such joy and anticipation. Han-gyeom had wondered what was so special about it—why it was more than just a vast expanse of water. He had wanted to see it for himself.
“I heard that looking at the sea makes your heart swell and lifts your spirits. But…….
Song Yeon-woo wasn’t wrong. The dreamlike sensation he described washed over Han-gyeom, and even now, his heart beat pleasantly.
However, that was before he was taken to the research facility. To his jaded eyes, the sea wasn’t a dream filled with joy and happiness.
“This feeling, like I could forget everything… it’s quite nice.”
The silence was like being swallowed whole by the deep sea, drifting aimlessly. Ironically, this feeling of being able to forget everything would likely stay with him forever.
Seo Won gently rested Han-gyeom’s head on his shoulder, wrapping an arm around his waist for support.
“Then maybe it’s okay to forget,” Seo Won said, gazing at the same spot as Han-gyeom.
“If there’s something you want to forget, just let it all go.”
Han-gyeom could only smile bitterly at those words.
If he were to forget everything, what would become of him? Would he mindlessly guide Seo Won, lost in his emotions, smiling foolishly? Perhaps he would find happiness in Seo Won’s affection, forgetting their enmity.
‘I can’t forget. I mustn’t forget.’
Han-gyeom reminded himself that he was by Seo Won’s side for one reason only: to avenge Song Yeon-woo, whose heart had been stolen. He would make Seo Won destroy his own life, the life he so desperately clung to. Only then could Han-gyeom finally let go.
‘That’s my purpose for living.’
It was simple, really. All he had to do was kill Seo Won. Make him throw away the life he had taken from Song Yeon-woo. If he could do that, he would have no regrets.
A dark shadow, like the depths of the sea, fell over Han-gyeom’s eyes.
Han-gyeom and Seo Won stood silently for a while, gazing at the swaying sea. The silence between them was filled with the scent of the ocean, and neither felt the need to speak. The spot where they stood felt like a sacred blue sanctuary.
Han-gyeom broke the silence first.
“Why don’t you ask?” he said, still looking at the sea. Seo Won, who had been gazing in the same direction, turned to look at him.
“What?”
Han-gyeom continued to stare at the sea, his eyes no longer innocent but sharp and determined.
“You think that contractor Ability User and Yoon Jeong-ho called me for some reason, right? You must be wondering what they’re up to.”
His voice held a hint of frustration. As he watched the sea, sorting through his thoughts, a natural question arose.
Only then did Han-gyeom turn to meet Seo Won’s gaze.
“So why don’t you ask?”
Seo Won hadn’t pressed Ha Tae-soo or Yoon Jeong-ho for details. He hadn’t asked what they had planned with Han-gyeom or what they had done. And he hadn’t asked Han-gyeom either.
‘Why?’
Han-gyeom found Seo Won’s behavior puzzling. He had no intention of revealing everything Ha Tae-soo and Yoon Jeong-ho had said. Doing so might expose his own plans, so he had been prepared to selectively share information, anticipating Seo Won’s questions.
But Seo Won hadn’t asked anything, making Han-gyeom’s preparations seem pointless. If he were in Seo Won’s position, he would have been curious.
Seo Won calmly received Han-gyeom’s frustrated and puzzled gaze, then casually turned back to the sea.
“If you want to tell me something, you will,” Seo Won said nonchalantly. “Finding out what those two are plotting is my job.”
His tone was incredibly carefree, as if he didn’t care what Ha Tae-soo and Yoon Jeong-ho were planning. Han-gyeom wondered if Seo Won would still be so calm if he knew their thoughts and words.
In truth, Han-gyeom preferred Seo Won’s indifference. It was better than being interrogated and having to carefully choose what to reveal. Yet, he felt a strange frustration and snapped,
“Is that always how you are?”
Perhaps his irritation had been building for a while.
“Do you always wait without asking, investigating everything on your own?”
Lately, Han-gyeom had been feeling an increasing frustration, which finally surfaced amidst the vast sea.
“It’s simple if you just ask,” Han-gyeom said. “Ask what they talked about, what I said in response. Just ask.”
It seemed like common sense to him. If you’re curious, you ask, and if asked, you answer. Yet, Seo Won never seemed to follow this logic. He rarely asked questions, even when it seemed natural to do so, and his silence only grew more pronounced over time.
‘It’s frustrating.’
Usually, the more time people spend together, the more comfortable they become with asking and answering questions. But Seo Won remained silent, his questions few and far between.
Sensing Han-gyeom’s frustration, Seo Won finally spoke, his voice as cold as the ice beneath their feet.
“There’s no guarantee that the answer you get from asking is the truth.”
Han-gyeom felt a pang of hurt and anger at these words.
“It’s up to the person asking to discern whether the answer is true or false. But if asking only leads to unnecessary confusion, perhaps it’s better to remain silent.”
Seo Won’s words were cold and firm, contrasting sharply with the warmth of his arm around Han-gyeom’s waist. Han-gyeom flinched, biting his lip.
Seo Won pulled Han-gyeom closer, their bodies pressing together.
“So, you don’t need to worry about whether to tell me the truth or a lie,” Seo Won said.
Han-gyeom, who had been organizing his thoughts and recalling his conversations with Ha Tae-soo and Yoon Jeong-ho, felt a shiver run through him. Seo Won had an uncanny way of seeming to read his mind, which was both unsettling and surprising.
Seo Won smiled faintly at Han-gyeom and slowly released his grip.
“The wind is getting colder. Let’s go back,” Seo Won said, turning around and taking Han-gyeom’s hand. His hand was cold from the sea breeze.
They began to walk back the way they came. After a few steps, Han-gyeom finally spoke.
“……They said,” Han-gyeom’s voice trembled as he spoke to Seo Won.
Seo Won stopped and turned to look at Han-gyeom, his face a mix of emotions.
“They asked me to kill you,” Han-gyeom said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I see,” Seo Won replied, his voice devoid of emotion.
“That’s it?” Han-gyeom snapped, his voice sharp with frustration. “They want to kill you, and that’s all you have to say?”
Han-gyeom’s frustration reached a boiling point. Seo Won’s nonchalant response made him wonder if it was because Seo Won didn’t trust him. However, it seemed that wasn’t the case.
“I already knew they wanted to kill me,” Seo Won said.
“You knew? And you still kept Yoon Jeong-ho so close?” Han-gyeom asked, incredulous.
While Seo Won was likely aware of the constraints placed on Ha Tae-soo and Yoon Jeong-ho, it also meant they were actively plotting to kill him despite those constraints. The situation was dangerous and could feel like a betrayal, yet Seo Won remained calm, which only infuriated Han-gyeom more. He found himself angry not at Seo Won, but at Yoon Jeong-ho for harboring such malicious intentions while staying so close.
In a moment of confusion about his own anger, Seo Won pulled Han-gyeom into a tight embrace, completely enveloping him.
“To me, that’s nothing compared to…….” Seo Won began.
“Nothing? You’re unbelievable…….!” Han-gyeom exclaimed, astonished that Seo Won could dismiss the threat so casually.
Seo Won cupped Han-gyeom’s face, their gazes locking intimately.
“The fact that you’re getting angry for my sake… it feels quite good,” Seo Won said, a faint smile playing on his lips as he held Han-gyeom close, oblivious to the frustration bubbling within him.
