#170
Lee Han-sol is lying spread-eagled on the living room floor, staring blankly at the ceiling.
After Jung Yi-dam left, Ki Baek-woo was discharged the very next day. Lee Han-sol had to deal with the stress of convincing the anxiously impatient Ki Baek-woo, who wanted to go home immediately that day, that they should at least get one medical examination before leaving.
His mental strength was gradually deteriorating, reaching its peak when he told the recovery team reception they were checking out. When the staff members who were gathered chatting all simultaneously exclaimed, “Mr. Lee Hunter, we knew we could count on you…!” Lee Han-sol wasn’t even embarrassed anymore.
They’re being so dramatic about having less work, it’s annoying. Should I just keep him hospitalized long-term? He didn’t even have the energy to grumble inwardly about it, so he spread his arms like a benevolent deity, as if he had reached enlightenment. My little lambs, I shall save you from the troublesome demon that is Ki Baek-woo…
Leaving behind the sparkling eyes and applause of appreciation pouring from the front, he and Ki Baek-woo left the center. They walked the familiar path toward the familiar apartment.
‘Hyung, this is our home.’
Throughout the journey, Ki Baek-woo had barely spoken except to say how good it felt to walk with hyung again, how dreamlike it was. But when they reached the apartment entrance, he said those words as if overcome with emotion. His clean face, where even the deep cut on his left cheek had disappeared completely—whether due to the excellent S-class healing abilities or not. Lee Han-sol stared at him and nodded.
Yes, it’s our home. When he answered in a voice cracking at the end, he might have been feeling something similar to Ki Baek-woo. The sensation of wavering emotions combined with the perfect sense of stability that comes from being where you belong. The feeling of relaxation, as if finally returning home. As if all the time spent elsewhere had been wandering outside.
Lee Han-sol extended his hand. Ki Baek-woo took it with eyes so moist that tears seemed ready to fall at the slightest touch.
‘Let’s go home quickly.’
At his words, Ki Baek-woo nodded, trying hard not to cry. It seems like being a crybaby is contagious, Lee Han-sol thought. Strangely, the tip of his nose was stinging too. He realized then for the first time that such profound relief could make you feel this way. The feeling of wanting to cry, of wanting to kiss Ki Baek-woo right then and there. It was new and unfamiliar. Although it was a brief emotion that dissipated as soon as they opened the front door.
‘Holy shit…’
That was all Lee Han-sol could say. He couldn’t ask why the house looked like this, or why Ki Baek-woo hadn’t cleaned everything up. The interior was in chaos as if more than a dozen thieves had broken in. Broken and damaged objects everywhere. It was all a scene created by Lee Han-sol’s own hands.
Because I didn’t know when I would see you again, hyung, I couldn’t clean up what you left behind. I just wanted to keep everything… And, and it’s all our memories…
Ki Baek-woo made excuses with a dejected attitude to Lee Han-sol, who was staring blankly at the mess of a living room, at a loss for words. Lee Han-sol followed Ki Baek-woo as he hurriedly entered, saying he would clean up quickly. After that, it was time for cleaning, cleaning, cleaning, cleaning, and more cleaning.
“Shit… there’s no end to this cleaning…”
The wind blew through the open living room window. Though the wind was cold, it wasn’t enough to cool Lee Han-sol’s head as he lay exhausted just from picking up trash and putting it in garbage bags. He blinked blankly, then naturally thought of Jung Yi-dam. More precisely, what Jung Yi-dam had said yesterday afternoon.
‘The final gate is coming soon. You know well, Han-sol. The place where you showed me love again and again while dying.’
Jung Yi-dam said, kill me there. His tone was as emotionless as if his expressionless face had become a voice. His gaze was fixed on Lee Han-sol. He continued.
‘It’s simple. Kill me the moment the gate core is destroyed. The moment the core is destroyed is the ending point, and that’s when the system pours all its computational functions into deriving the ending. It has no capacity to pay attention to outside matters. You can’t miss that brief timing. That’s the only time you can kill me. Do you understand?’
‘……’
‘If I, who share the system core, die at that moment, a fatal error will occur in both the ending and the system itself. Once deemed unrecoverable, the system will shut down. Then we’ll all be free from this tiresome play, this repetition. I’ll have the death I’ve longed for, and you… do whatever. I feel like shit.’
Jung Yi-dam nodded his head with a bad attitude like a thug and got up without any lingering attachment. Ki Baek-woo asked him as he was about to leave after saying his piece.
‘What if we fail?’
Jung Yi-dam looked back with a cold expression and, after a brief silence, suddenly gave an unpleasant smirk.
‘Who knows.’
‘Who knows?’
‘Maybe… we’ll all disintegrate? I don’t know where we’ll end up drifting.’
Maybe we’ll be torn to pieces and wander through space? Like garbage flowing around in a form that doesn’t even resemble humans, thinking only of wanting to die for eternity. As mere pieces of skin without mouths to speak, legs to walk, or hands to touch.
So do well. Jung Yi-dam, who had been smirking limply, said that with emotionless eyes and tone, then left the hospital room without even saying goodbye.
So do well, he says. Jung Yi-dam had said that Ki Baek-woo was designed to be unable to kill him. So “doing well” was ultimately Lee Han-sol’s responsibility. All my responsibility, all my choice.
Lee Han-sol, who thought about this with dissatisfaction, let out a small sigh and raised his arm to cover his eyes. The ceiling, the only clean part of the house, disappeared from his view. Yes, it was all his responsibility and his choice. Making the house look like this was ultimately his choice, and it was also himself who had reached this point as a result of that choice. He somewhat regretted it. There was no need to make such a mess.
“There’s nothing left intact in the house, damn it.”
Just as he was muttering, Ki Baek-woo, who had been rustling around in the bedroom, carefully approached and crouched down beside him. Lee Han-sol felt gentle fingers carefully brushing away his disheveled hair.
“Hyung, you must be tired.”
“I’m not.”
“I’ll clean everything up, so go in and rest. I’ve cleaned the bedroom and the bed. Lie down comfortably there.”
A voice full of concern. Lee Han-sol lowered his arm covering his eyes and glanced at Ki Baek-woo. When their eyes met, Ki Baek-woo smiled faintly. He seemed sincere. Lee Han-sol wanted to say okay and flop onto the bed immediately, but he still had some conscience left. As the culprit who created this chaos, he couldn’t leave Ki Baek-woo to struggle alone. Because Lee Han-sol was not a loser, and therefore knew how to take responsibility for his own actions. Besides, Ki Baek-woo hasn’t even gained all his weight back yet, if he cleans all this alone, he’ll lose another 10 kilos. What if he ends up with a boy band weight?
Lee Han-sol, who briefly imagined Ki Baek-woo with his door-sized height reduced to 48 kilos of just bones, groaned and got up.
“…Never mind. Let’s do it together.”
“No, hyung, rest. I’ll clean the living room.”
“What rest? Until the day before yesterday, you were a patient. Don’t overdo it.”
“I can do it alone…”
“If you’re cleaning the living room, I’ll clean the small room.”
Lee Han-sol entered the small room, avoiding the repetitive argument with Ki Baek-woo. A place where clothes and miscellaneous items were gathered. This place was also a mess, as if a bomb had exploded. Scattered paper scraps, drawer compartments strewn everywhere…
‘Damn it, I’m not Lee Han-sol anymore, I’m Fucking Han-sol. This is endless. I should have kept my temper tantrums in check.’
Lee Han-sol clicked his tongue, tsk, in front of his sins, then crouched down and began gathering the scattered items. Putting the rolling drawer compartments back into the drawer… What’s this rag? Ah, these are the clothes I cut up with scissors. Back then, I had no idea what lay ahead and threw a fit, saying I’d never return to this damned house again. Yet here I am, walking in on my own and cleaning up.
“Throw away… throw away… clean this up…”
As Lee Han-sol crawled around on the floor, roughly sorting items, he noticed a neatly gathered pile of objects.
“What is this… oh.”
His eyes widened. They were an old sketchbook he had stolen from somewhere when he was young and given to Ki Baek-woo, faded colored paper, and the only photo they had taken together in childhood. All of which he had torn to pieces. Because he was so angry, because he didn’t know how to handle the emotions rising from the truth Jung Yi-dam had spilled, because he was so desperate to die he thought he would go crazy. These were things Lee Han-sol had completely destroyed with helpless hands. Things he had deliberately damaged. Even though he knew they were treasures Ki Baek-woo had always carried with him since childhood.
And they had been carefully pieced back together with transparent tape, albeit clumsily, and placed reverently in a clean space. The only things that had been repaired in a place where everything was broken, very preciously…
“…Ah.”
Lee Han-sol felt a bitterness. His fingertips seemed to grow cold. His hand that picked up the mended photograph was trembling slightly. Young Lee Han-sol smiling brightly, and beside him, an even younger Ki Baek-woo smiling shyly. The photo looked ugly because it had been torn into several pieces and then put back together, but the moment captured within was clear.
There was only one photo. Why did I tear this up?
“What a waste…”
What a waste. A real waste… Lee Han-sol didn’t want to regret something irreversible. He didn’t want to wish for something that couldn’t be done. But he was regretting it now and wished he could go back to before the photo was torn.
What must Ki Baek-woo have thought when he saw these scattered in tatters? Lee Han-sol bit his lip hard with his front teeth. Ki Baek-woo piecing together the torn fragments one by one. Ki Baek-woo matching the puzzle pieces over and over with tear-blurred vision, thinking that if he put this back together, they could go back too… He didn’t want to, he didn’t want to be this weak already, but imagining such a Ki Baek-woo made him feel sorry. Lee Han-sol knew exactly what kind of feeling that was. No, I’m the most pitiful one. Don’t be so dramatic, Lee Han-sol. That’s what he thought, but he couldn’t help the stinging sensation in his chest, as if it were being pricked.
“Hyung!”
Just then, Ki Baek-woo ran into the room with an urgent expression.
“Hyung, maybe…! That, hyung, you’re not throwing that away! Don’t throw it away, I’ll, I’ll keep it!”
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
