#113
Naturally, the thought of licking it all up came to mind. If I’m going to die, I should suck it all up before dying. When will hyung come? I miss you, let me hear your voice, hyung. Hold me. And after telling me everything I did wrong, just say one word—die. Then I’ll devour all of that and jump outside.
Ki Baek-woo’s consciousness flowed very slowly, wandering through thoughts as if in a fog.
“Urgh…!”
Suddenly, a splitting headache arose. It felt as if someone was grabbing his brain and tearing it apart in all directions. The extreme pain jumbled Ki Baek-woo’s vision like an abstract painting. Click, crackle, hiss—it was like having a radio with poor reception right next to his ear. The harsh noise reverberated in his temples.
Urgh, huff…. Ki Baek-woo writhed while clutching his hair tightly. Like a worm on dry ground, he struggled, then sud-den-ly stopped moving. Amid his chaotically tangled consciousness,
a scene flashed by.
…Han-sol hyung?
A dizzying pain as if his brain was turning to porridge. Vision flickering black like lightning striking. In a moment when it was difficult to distinguish whether he was in his right mind or not, Lee Han-sol appeared in Ki Baek-woo’s mind. It was definitely Han-sol. Ki Baek-woo could recognize him even if someone showed him just one dismembered part. Memory, no, I’ve never done this, so this shouldn’t be called a memory. But in the scene that suddenly appeared, it was definitely Han-sol.
‘Don’t do this, Baek-wooo… How can hyung, without you, how can hyung really live…’
The one answering was Ki Baek-woo.
‘Why can’t you live? Living isn’t anything special. Not being able to live without someone, that’s all an illusion.’
‘Baek-woo,’
‘I thought I couldn’t live without hyung either. But that’s not true. I’m so fine it’s actually surprising. So stop now, hyung. You should only show your good side to your little brother. Right?’
‘How can I stop…! You, uh, you said it yourself, uuugh, urk, that you and I were destined for each other, sob, so why are you doing this to me…! Don’t go, I said…! Uhng, sob, huff….’
‘We’re not destined.’
Ki Baek-woo looks down at Han-sol with an expressionless face like an emotionless robot. He continues speaking coldly, looking at Han-sol who is firmly holding onto his pant legs, his small face completely wet with tears.
‘Hyung and I are not destined for each other.’
If we were destined, this wouldn’t have happened. We just wasted time talking about such unrealistic things until now. He says these very strange words while rubbing his brow. Han-sol looks up at such a Ki Baek-woo with blurred eyes. Between his eyelashes, matted together from being soaked in tears, his pupils tremble wetly, mixed with the frustration, desperation, distrust, and shock of someone betrayed. As if at a loss for words, he can’t say anything. Ki Baek-woo sighs and abruptly shakes his leg. Han-sol’s hands fall away helplessly even from that small rebound.
‘There are things that can work if you desperately hold on, and things that can’t. Hyung, we’re the latter. Please, now….’
‘……’
‘Don’t contact me.’
Han-sol kneeling and just dropping tears. A pale complexion as if soul-lost. Ki Baek-woo turning away without hesitation, leaving him behind. Bang, the sound of the door closing.
And that’s the end.
Ki Baek-woo gasped with a blank face like the soul-lost Han-sol from the scene that had just flashed by.
“…Why.”
No answer comes back. Only the headache that feels like it’s splitting his head is squeezing his brain. What was that just now, what was that? Why would something like that, something like that…
Who, why does someone keep showing me these things?
“Hyung.”
Chills ran down his spine. Cold sweat dripped down his forehead.
“Please save me, hyung.”
That was the beginning.
***
The house was dark. A house with all windows covered, and in its most secluded corner. In a space where a child would definitely hide during hide-and-seek, there was Ki Baek-woo, all curled up.
Ki Baek-woo curled up his body as much as possible. To anyone who didn’t know him, it would be impossible to think he was actually a large man approaching 190cm in height—at this moment, he had shrunk into a ball. With his legs folded in half and tightly embraced, he was pressed against the corner where wall met wall. Like a herbivore cornered and desperate to hide anywhere. He was desperate. The muscles in his arms were taut as he exerted all his strength, tightly hugging his legs. The only contradiction was his long neck, powerlessly drooping downward. The sagging appearance made him look like a chicken with a twisted neck.
“……”
Ki Baek-woo buried his face between his knees and trembled. He didn’t dare raise his head stiffly and face his surroundings. It was funny. The house he was in. This place hadn’t changed at all from yesterday, the day before, and from the moment Han-sol disappeared. It remains exactly the same, as if it had been taxidermied. This was clearly the very space where Ki Baek-woo felt the most, no, the only love and peace of mind in the world.
That such a place, feels, like, a prison….
Ki Baek-woo was very unhappy. He had lost his only place of peace and had become someone who could no longer rest his heart anywhere. He was now afraid of home.
‘We are not destined.’
That cold voice saying this comes from somewhere.
‘Can’t you just sort it out yourself?’
Our relationship, couldn’t you have just sorted it out yourself? Hyung is hyung, since you’re hyung, can’t you just handle it?
Stop it. I understand. I understand everything, so please stop now. Ki Baek-woo trembles and inwardly begs. Yet the voice continues to be heard. The present feels distant. Ah, why is there no limit to the worst? The voice doesn’t stop.
IthoughtIlovedyoubutthatwasn’tloveitwasamisunderstandingIthoughtthatdependingonyouwasloveitwasyounganddidn’tknowanythingnowit’salloveritallstopwe’redifferentpeopleyouareyouandIamImean’tsupposetorelyon otherpeoplethiswayHyungtooneedsto knowhowtolivewithoutme livewellfromnowondon’tworryaboutme.
From somewhere in the dark house, that is, from the bedroom beyond the living room, comes the voice. Ki Baek-woo, curling up his already curled body even more, with his molars clattering in fear, moaned ah, ahh, stop, please stop, in a faint voice as if filled with sand. He was so scared he couldn’t bear it. He was afraid of “Ki Baek-woo’s voice” that came from all over the house like a formless ghost, making it hard to breathe. Yes, it was Ki Baek-woo’s voice. The voice saying he didn’t love Han-sol was so clearly Ki Baek-woo’s. It wasn’t someone imitating him to torment him. This sounded like the house, a giant recorder, had stored every single word Ki Baek-woo had ever said and was playing it back unexpectedly. Like evidence of a crime.
Since then, the house had become a dusky darkness pressing down on Ki Baek-woo. It became something frightening that produced endless darkness like a living being, trying to crush Ki Baek-woo with it. In this transformed “our home,” Ki Baek-woo felt as if he had become a tiny ant. The house is a human finger. Something that can burst and kill an ant instantly.
Strange scenes unfolded against the backdrop of every part of the not-so-large house. They invaded his consciousness like flashes. Ki Baek-woo found this situation suspicious. He felt like a character in an obvious detective novel. Like the protagonist of a trite twist where he thought he was falsely accused of a terrible crime, but it turned out he actually committed it all himself, just forgetting due to mental confusion… That kind of feeling. So the painful scenes that suddenly invaded his consciousness felt like evidence footage revealing all the truth at the highlight of a novel.
It can’t be, but, still, this feeling keeps coming…
Captured by this strange suspicion, Ki Baek-woo suffered. That confusion stole even the last peace from Ki Baek-woo, who was already as good as destitute from losing Han-sol. There was nothing Ki Baek-woo could do. He was completely powerless.
At least the dreams were fine if he didn’t fall asleep. Of course, Ki Baek-woo’s body was already shabby, his physical self and consciousness moved separately, and because of that, he would often lose consciousness as if a switch had been turned off. Then he inevitably dreamed. Dreams that invaded his consciousness like fog. But that gave Ki Baek-woo room to try. There was at least a minimal defense wall that he didn’t have to face them if he just didn’t fall asleep.
But this wasn’t like that. Flashbacks that pierced his consciousness at will without any warning or sign. In that moment, all Ki Baek-woo was allowed was to recognize the scene passing by instantly like a fast-forwarded video.
The scene of Han-sol kneeling, hugging Ki Baek-woo’s thighs and sobbing, begging like a child who lost its mother, begging for someone as worthless as Ki Baek-woo, and Ki Baek-woo casually brushing him off.
We, are, not, destined.
Since that day when the image of Ki Baek-woo drawing a line in front of Han-sol with a chillingly calm voice suddenly came to mind, the same thing had been repeating. Just like the ominous dreams where Han-sol died, died, and died again.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
