#89
As their relationship lengthened, Nam Seonwoo thought Kang Jihan had lost whatever interest he’d had in him. He felt like Kang Jihan considered him a burden that he wished would disappear quickly. His sensitivity about the car seemed to be for the same reason. Nam Seonwoo believed Kang Jihan found it annoying how he was always nearly getting into car accidents.
But what if Kang Jihan remembered this incident from that time, which even Nam Seonwoo had forgotten? What if that’s why he was so sensitive about the car…
Maybe Kang Jihan didn’t dislike me that much after all.
‘No, perhaps…’
That feeling of being loved that he’d experienced, however slightly, when they first started dating at twenty. Kang Jihan’s mother who suddenly passed away that same year. And his back view at the funeral parking lot. It felt like a puzzle coming together. Then a thought began to creep in.
‘…Did he love me?’
Probably for quite a long time, in Kang Jihan’s own way.
*
*
Nam Seonwoo slowly opened his eyes.
It was a vivid dream, as if he had actually been there. Just like when he woke up from the funeral dream.
Why did he keep having these dreams?
Every time he hit his head and lost consciousness, forgotten moments from the past would replay in his dreams. Like aftereffects of the traffic accident, a problem with his head, and fragments of the past that repeated whenever it was stimulated. He couldn’t shake the feeling that it was trying to wake him up to something.
So what was that “something”? That Kang Jihan might have actually loved him? As that thought occurred to him, something Baek Heeyeon had once said crossed Nam Seonwoo’s mind.
‘Seeing the true ending of a story you couldn’t see before might be considered “changing destiny,” don’t you think?’
But realizing that fact wouldn’t change anything. The fact that Kang Jihan loved Nam Seonwoo wasn’t the “ending.”
The ending was already determined. Nam Seonwoo’s death. Therefore, regardless of Kang Jihan’s feelings, he still shouldn’t form a deep relationship with him.
‘Or it could just be lingering attachment.’
It might be giving too much meaning. Rather than the dreams having some significance, it could just be his subconscious trying to revisit memories with Kang Jihan. After all, whenever he firmly resolved to break up, his feelings for Kang Jihan only seemed to grow stronger.
Nam Seonwoo wiped his eyes. Once again, tears had flowed and dampened his cheeks and pillow.
“…”
The surroundings were dark. But even in that dim vision, the scent of the bedding that enveloped his body clearly told him where he was.
However, unlike the night they had slept under the same blanket, Kang Jihan wasn’t in the room.
‘It must be Kim Minhwan.’
He could roughly guess what had happened. Since Kim Minhwan had his phone last, he must have gone through the contacts. It would have been better if he had contacted Park Gyuhyeon instead of Kang Jihan, but from Kim Minhwan’s perspective, Kang Jihan would have been the familiar name.
The phone was on the bedside table. Nam Seonwoo reached out and checked it. Past numerous unconfirmed notifications, his fingertip stopped at one call record.
[Contemporary History Kang Jihan: 13 minutes 47 seconds]
The time of the call was about thirty minutes after Contemporary History class had started. If his memory was correct, he would have been taking a taxi with Kim Minhwan around that time. But…
Nam Seonwoo’s gaze lingered for a while on the word “Received.” It wasn’t Kim Minhwan who had made the call. He opened the message box, but there had been no contact from him since ending their conversation that way on April Fools’ Day.
The car that couldn’t leave the front of his officetel had stood still, as if complying with a warning not to cross the line. It was easy to infer how it might have looked—going home with Kim Minhwan, then both of them absent from the next morning’s lecture.
Nam Seonwoo stared blankly at the time the call came in. He could almost imagine what kind of conflict and thoughts Kang Jihan might have had during the thirty or so minutes after the lecture began.
‘…Stop.’
Nam Seonwoo turned off the screen. It was he who had deliberately brought Kim Minhwan home, knowing full well how it would “look.” There was nothing more foolish than dwelling on what Kang Jihan might have thought after doing that.
The house was quiet. With no signs of movement beyond the bedroom door, Nam Seonwoo cautiously got up.
‘He still lives here?’
In his previous life, Kang Jihan had left this house right after his mother passed away. So he thought it would be the same this time. Thinking about what kind of time Kang Jihan must have spent alone in this space, which was spacious even for him and his mother, made his mood even heavier.
…He needed to get back home quickly.
But he never thought he would encounter Kang Jihan as soon as he opened the door handle.
Kang Jihan was sitting at the dining table with the lights off. As if he had been sitting like that for quite some time, he was quietly staring this way without the slightest movement.
“…”
Nam Seonwoo had seen that face before. Two years ago, when he collapsed after being hit by a ball, Kang Jihan had raised his voice with that expression. It was also the face he had when he knew about the symptoms that even doctors couldn’t properly identify, and knew there was nothing he could do.
But unlike then, Kang Jihan’s voice was low and calm.
“There was nowhere else to bring you.”
Nam Seonwoo pressed his lips together at those words that somehow sounded like an excuse, saying he didn’t deliberately bring him here. That this was his first statement seemed odd. It was clear that he had definitely understood Nam Seonwoo’s rejection that day. After a moment of choosing his words, Nam Seonwoo awkwardly replied.
“…Yeah.”
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.”
When he quickly answered before being asked further, an uncomfortable silence followed again.
Nam Seonwoo turned his head as if avoiding. His lost gaze landed on the counter visible beyond Kang Jihan. Even in the darkness, a translucent cover was clearly visible over a white bowl. Next to the bowl were chopsticks and a spoon for one person.
“I was going to buy porridge.”
Kang Jihan spoke, noticing Nam Seonwoo’s gaze.
“…But I couldn’t buy it.”
He frowned as he trailed off.
Couldn’t buy it? What did that mean? Nam Seonwoo wondered if the porridge shop was closed, but that wasn’t important right now. He naturally turned his gaze away as if he hadn’t seen the bowl.
“I’ll be going now.”
The air in the house was cold. It seemed particularly colder with no lights on in this spacious house. Nam Seonwoo quickly headed to the entrance to prevent any further idle thoughts. He heard the sound of a chair scraping the floor behind him, and unconsciously quickened his steps.
It was while he was hastily putting on his sneakers. A hesitant voice held Nam Seonwoo back.
“I’ll drive you home.”
“No need. I’ll take a taxi.”
“A taxi?”
Instead of answering, Nam Seonwoo reached for the front door. But a hand from behind was faster. Kang Jihan, who grabbed the doorknob, muttered as if talking to himself.
“You collapse like that and still want to take a taxi.”
Nam Seonwoo hesitated at the low voice. It was a tone he hadn’t heard in this life. Was it because of the dream he just had? It sounded as if overlaid with the voice from when they fought over car keys in his previous life.
“Why are you so careless?”
“…How is this about my carelessness?”
“Riding in vehicles with low bodies when your head is weak, if that’s not being careless, what is it?”
“According to your logic, should I not ride in cars at all? Say something that makes sense.”
“Why doesn’t that make sense?”
Nam Seonwoo closed his mouth. The continuing argument was identical to that time, like a carbon copy. His throat felt blocked, just like when he had been frustrated by not understanding the oversensitive reaction. But what was clogging his throat this time wasn’t frustration.
Was it because of the dream he just had? This time, he seemed to understand where this excessive reaction came from.
“That’s enough. How I get home is none of your business.”
“Take my car.”
“I said no.”
“Then you can’t leave.”
The hand gripping the doorknob seemed firm enough to hold on for hours. Seeing that he truly showed no sign of opening the door, Nam Seonwoo gritted his teeth.
Just yesterday, he had been someone who retreated beyond the line. It was hard to bear that the reason this same person was now being so stubborn was out of concern, and that this stubborn concern was exactly like in his previous life.
Why did he have to have such a dream now, of all times?
It felt like indescribable emotions were tangling wildly. With the precariousness of emotions that might burst out if touched even slightly, Nam Seonwoo desperately swallowed down that lump of emotion.
His throat trembled. But fortunately, his voice came out without a trace of trembling.
“Open the door.”
“Look at me. Look at me and then talk.”
Kang Jihan pressed his other hand against the front door. Finding himself trapped between his arms, Nam Seonwoo became even more unable to turn around. He might be able to hide his voice, but his expression would certainly be exposed. There was no sunset here to hide the color of his face.
As he stared intently at the door in front of him, he could see the hand beside his face gradually applying more pressure. The fingertips curled as if scratching the door. As if regretful that he couldn’t crumple it in his hand, his tightly clenched fist trembled slightly.
“Nam Seonwoo. Look at me.”
Even so, his hands couldn’t touch any part of Nam Seonwoo’s body. Kang Jihan dropped his head at the stubbornly unyielding back that wouldn’t turn around even once.
“…Please look at me.”
The voice, squeezed out with difficulty, fell on Nam Seonwoo’s shoulder. Nam Seonwoo shrank. After a long while staring at that movement, Kang Jihan finally released a suppressed voice.
“Can’t you look at me just once?”
