#113
At that moment, Kang Jihan mumbled quietly.
“I still believed it wasn’t true.”
Unable to hear clearly, Nam Seonwoo leaned toward him, but Kang Jihan continued in a faint voice as if talking to himself.
“I woke up and you were gone.”
When he noticed the eyes that had once again become unfocused, Nam Seonwoo felt like a stone was lodged in his throat, unable to say anything. Though he knew Kang Jihan wasn’t blaming him, regret washed over him like a tide.
He shouldn’t have left. Kang Jihan had repeatedly said “don’t go” as if it were a habit. He could imagine what Kang Jihan must have thought when he saw the empty bed, after finding comfort in seeing Nam Seonwoo existing before him, unlike in his dreams.
“Just like in that damn dream, just like when I waited for so long but you didn’t come… afraid you wouldn’t come back again, I…”
With Nam Seonwoo—who had helped him distinguish between dreams and reality—gone, the dream had abruptly crossed into the realm of reality. The blurred boundary had forced Kang Jihan to face one truth: what he had believed was a “dream” might actually be a “reality” that had already happened.
It was then that the mumbling Kang Jihan clutched his head tightly. He looked in such pain that it seemed his head might burst if he didn’t hold it. His fragmented speech couldn’t form complete sentences, and rough breathing mixed chaotically in between. His highly unstable appearance resembled seizure symptoms. Nam Seonwoo quickly grabbed his arm.
“Jihan-ah, why are you—”
“I wanted to kill him.”
Nam Seonwoo flinched at the coldly subdued voice. But he didn’t loosen his grip on Kang Jihan’s arm. Fearing he might really tear at his skin if left alone, Nam Seonwoo pulled down his arms with all his strength, revealing the face hidden beneath.
Their eyes met. Kang Jihan smiled coldly with an utterly helpless gaze.
“But he kept dying by himself, so I couldn’t even kill him.”
Nam Seonwoo, who couldn’t understand those words for a few seconds, soon gaped in shock.
This was the moment when the puzzles that had been strangely misaligned finally fit together properly. But the completed puzzle was as distorted as Kang Jihan’s face.
Kang Jihan had been separating himself from the ‘Kang Jihan’ of his previous life. Unable to understand the ‘Kang Jihan’ he had observed in his dreams, unable to comprehend the choices made that he would never have made himself, he couldn’t forgive his past self. When faced with Kang Jihan who had split himself apart by denying himself this way, Nam Seonwoo felt a haze come over his vision.
But as if realizing that avoidance wouldn’t solve anything, Kang Jihan weakly mumbled.
“…If I’m that bastard who made you like this.”
He had known it too. That both his obsessive focus on Nam Seonwoo and his uncomfortable dislike of silence to the point of compulsion were due to the regret he had engraved in his heart until his dying moment.
When he finally accepted that all of it was “himself,” Kang Jihan reached one conclusion:
“There’s no way you could like me…”
Nam Seonwoo unconsciously bit his lower lip with all his might. Though he had expected Kang Jihan would struggle if his memories returned, he never imagined he would suffer in this form. The self-reproach that none of this would have happened if Kang Jihan hadn’t had the accident suddenly reared its head. But Nam Seonwoo knew such self-blame wouldn’t help solve the problem.
The insects that had overheard all the sounds chirped ceaselessly. That sound filling the surroundings left no gaps, as if telling them not to fear the silence. But Kang Jihan couldn’t hear that sound at all. For him, only Nam Seonwoo’s silence filled everything. As the silence lengthened and Kang Jihan grew paler, he hurriedly spoke.
“I, I won’t do such things.”
But soon, as if realizing something was off about his words, Kang Jihan’s face crumpled. The voice that flowed from him was low and choked, as if strangled by sin.
“…I won’t do it again. Ever.”
Despite his emphatic promise, Kang Jihan couldn’t even meet his eyes. His head, lowered heavily like a criminal’s, was solemn as if awaiting a sentence about to fall.
“…”
It was just a few days ago. When Kang Jihan had said the exact same thing.
‘I don’t create such situations. Why would I do something I’d regret in the first place?’
He missed the voice that had been so confident then, and the expression that had even seemed a bit cocky. Yes, Kang Jihan was better off being cocky. That suited him much better than begging to be believed like this.
“Hey.”
How had they become such fools? His voice came out sharp, mixed with frustration and hurt feelings. Looking at the head still facing downward, Nam Seonwoo pointed out the fact this idiot kept overlooking.
“Do you think I don’t know what kind of person you were?”
Kang Jihan wasn’t the only one with memories. Nam Seonwoo knew better what the thirty-four-year-old Kang Jihan had been like.
Kang Jihan finally raised his head cautiously. But his pitch-black pupils were restless, as if trying to grasp the meaning of his words. Nam Seonwoo swallowed a sigh. He thought his one statement should have been enough of an answer, but seeing Kang Jihan still just reading his expression made him not just frustrated but angry.
“Do you think I’m stupid? I know what I’m doing. I know everything you did, and I still like you, that’s why I’m here dating you again!”
Kang Jihan’s conclusion was full of errors. The idea that Nam Seonwoo couldn’t possibly like Kang Jihan was not even funny. Despite everything, he liked Kang Jihan.
While Nam Seonwoo had long since forgiven Kang Jihan, Kang Jihan himself couldn’t forgive himself.
“…Even so.”
Kang Jihan opened his mouth heavily.
“Someday—”
“Someday we might break up? So what? You’re saying you won’t date me because we might break up? What are you talking about?”
Nam Seonwoo could now clearly read what Kang Jihan was thinking. It was the same worry he himself had two years ago. A completely useless worry. So Nam Seonwoo returned the exact words Kang Jihan had said to him back then.
“And why are you already thinking about breaking up?”
“…”
“I’m confident we’ll never break up.”
It seemed his memory hadn’t become completely foolish. He must have recognized the words from his own mouth.
Kang Jihan stood blankly without saying anything. Though he wasn’t avoiding his gaze like before, seeing him frozen in place, it still seemed Nam Seonwoo’s words hadn’t reached him.
It would be a lie to say he wasn’t frustrated, but it wasn’t incomprehensible either. He couldn’t rush Kang Jihan—who had suddenly shouldered over thirty years of time and had been anxious alone for days—to be confident right now. After thinking for a moment, Nam Seonwoo spoke.
“My parents are coming back to Korea soon.”
As he lowered his gaze, he belatedly noticed Kang Jihan’s bare feet. Apparently not feeling the rough pavement blocks, his two feet were stoically supporting Kang Jihan’s weight.
“My mom loves babies. So she says I’m disgusting now that I’m all grown up, and she’s been making a fuss about bringing her a grandchild ever since.”
“…”
“She called yesterday and was making a big deal about it. Asking me to quickly introduce anyone I’m dating. So I told her I would.”
At those words, Kang Jihan seemed to freeze. Like when Nam Seonwoo had seen him in the funeral home parking lot, his feet were nailed to the ground without movement. But unlike then, his exposed bare feet clearly showed how much he had shrunk back now. After silently observing this agitation, Nam Seonwoo knelt down on one knee.
“What are you—”
Ignoring Kang Jihan’s startled reaction, Nam Seonwoo reached for his feet and said:
“But if this so-called boyfriend is wandering the city center barefoot at dawn, it would be embarrassing for me.”
His feet, which had wandered through the night, were as much of a mess as his face. Seeing the torn and scratched skin with scabs hardened here and there, Nam Seonwoo’s eyebrows furrowed involuntarily.
“It’s bad enough that he can’t give her grandchildren, but he should at least look presentable, don’t you think?”
Nam Seonwoo took off one of his slippers and put it on the bare foot covered in wounds. Surprisingly, Kang Jihan remained still, allowing him to put on the other one as well.
Though he hadn’t worn Kang Jihan’s slippers intending this, he was glad he could give them to him. It was right that Kang Jihan should wear them, not himself. After all, it was Kang Jihan who was trapped in the past, unable to move forward.
‘I’ll ask him to carry me later.’
How on earth had he walked on this rough ground? He was really something. As his shins began to ache from kneeling, he was about to stand up when a voice fell from above.
“Why?”
Looking up at the sound, their eyes met. Kang Jihan was asking. Why was he going to introduce him to his parents?
“Why? Because you’re the man I’m going to live with for the rest of my life.”
Nam Seonwoo sighed inwardly. Originally, he had planned to show him the house he had contracted and tell him then, but somehow the order had become a mess.
“I did leave a note before going out, I was on my way back from Park Gyuhyeon’s. His family runs a real estate business.”
Not only was the order wrong, but there was no romance either. Instead of giving him something nice like a copy of the house key or a matching keychain, here he was putting on a basic slipper and saying these things.
“It’s not as spacious and nice as your house now, but it’s pretty good. For the two of us to live in.”
“What…”
Kang Jihan wore a stupid expression. Looking up at this frustrating person who still couldn’t understand what he meant, Nam Seonwoo delivered the words he had secretly prepared.
“Let’s live together, you and me.”
If he still didn’t get it after hearing this, Nam Seonwoo was really going to hit him. Glaring at the still-frozen Kang Jihan, Nam Seonwoo grumbled.
“I’ll really kill you if you start babbling again. Think about it logically. After seeing everything about you for fifteen years, I should be thoroughly sick of you, so why would I be dating you again? It’s because I still like you even after seeing you for fifteen years…”
The moment he felt something falling on his cheek, a heavy weight engulfed his body. He tilted backward as if pushed by a strong wave, but thanks to two arms tightly hugging his waist, he didn’t fall on his backside.
Nam Seonwoo blinked. The shoulder partially blocking his view was trembling. And a voice filled with that trembling came back after a while.
“Okay.”
It was a small sound. But because their tightly pressed bodies vibrated with it, Nam Seonwoo could clearly understand it. And the moisture in it too.
It was already the fourth time. Kang Jihan crying.
He recalled Kang Jihan at their high school graduation when it was snowing, glaring at him with reddened eyes. The next was at the hospital, maybe? The foolish voice saying it was the first time he’d heard someone say they liked him seemed to ring in his ears. And on the bed where they had embraced like one body, Kang Jihan had cried saying he was happy.
‘What, he was just a crybaby all along.’
Nam Seonwoo smiled slightly. Looking back, it seemed Kang Jihan always substituted tears for saying “I love you.” But at the whisper that followed, Nam Seonwoo’s smile disappeared.
“I love you.”
It was such a common phrase. But since it was the first time it had been fully directed at him, that common sound seemed incredibly unfamiliar. At some point, he almost felt like those words existed only for him.
“I love you, Seonwoo-ya…”
It was something he could feel fully without having to hear it with both ears. Yet having it come into his ears as a voiced sound felt strange. Perhaps that’s why, even after several seconds, the sound didn’t evaporate. It kept echoing in Kang Jihan’s embrace.
And yet Kang Jihan whispered endlessly, as if afraid that sound would fade. His voice, speaking of love like reciting a prayer, still had anxiety lingering in it.
“…”
Perhaps Kang Jihan’s pathological anxiety would be an issue he’d have to carry for the rest of his life.
And it was the same for Nam Seonwoo. With a head injury of unknown cause, even Baek Heeyeon didn’t know the reason, so they could only live their lives carefully forever.
Then suddenly, such a thought occurred to him. In dramas, people who return to the past all live wonderful lives, so why were they each strange in some way? Somehow it seemed a bit unfair, making him laugh hollowly.
Embracing the broad back that kept repeating the same words, Nam Seonwoo answered.
“I know.”
Right now, Kang Jihan was exactly like his past self. Like the Nam Seonwoo of that time who endlessly craved affection and became anxious at the slightest crack.
“Me too.”
That’s why he could understand him better than anyone. Come to think of it, he thought it wasn’t entirely unfair. In the end, they had come to understand each other completely like this.
Of course, this life was full of unknowns. What would happen to the events that occurred at thirty-four, what times would unfold afterward—none of it could be known.
Still, one thing could be certain. The certainty that the outcome they would face this time wouldn’t be exactly the same as before.
It was time to see a different ending.
“…So will you stop crying now?”
Together with Kang Jihan, who had become a crybaby.
Just A Friend – The End.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
