JKA 79

Hanbyeol soothed his mother and Haneul, then closed the door. Then, after making sure he heard the sound of the door locking, he came out to the living room. The old man, who wasn’t in his right mind to begin with, had been downing drink after drink, so a proper conversation was impossible.

“Those fucking bitches, trying every trick in the book not to open the damn door. Fucking bitch. The welfare checks come in regularly, so what do you mean there’s no money?”

“Get out of my house now.”

“My house?”

The man, who had been muttering a stream of curses with his eyes and lips gone slack, suddenly lit up his eyes as if a button had been pushed at the words “my house.”

“Why is this your house, you bastard? This is the house your mother bought by stealing my money. You know that?”

“…What money.”

“My money! Do you know how much money I, I gave that bitch? I worked my ass off, doing manual labor, and I gave it to her to, huh? to manage the household, and that bitch took it all and ran, didn’t she!”

“…”

“You, you’re being fooled by that bitch. You, man, you’re my son. Im Gwanseok’s son. But… that, that bitch isn’t my daughter. Your mother, she met some other guy outside.”

“Fuck, please!”

With his alcoholism compounded by a gambling addiction, he was busy spouting all sorts of delusions. In reality, he had never brought a single penny home; the reality was that he had stolen the money his mother had painstakingly earned, left home, and blew it all on gambling.

As if he could not stand it any longer, Hanbyeol cursed and reached out to him. When he grabbed the madman he didn’t even want to call father by the collar and forced him up, the completely drunk body went limp.

He had seemed so big in the past, but not anymore. Even standing straight, he was a whole head shorter than him. From only drinking, his face was gaunt like a skull, and his fingertips and toes trembled even when still.

If I killed this lunatic, would anyone even look for him? Just then, as he was flailing his arms around, struggling to get out of Hanbyeol’s grasp, the soju bottle in his hand slammed, whack, against Hanbyeol’s head.

The soju bottle broke, and its sharp edge made a deep gash near his eyebrow. Soon, drip, drip, blood fell, staining one side of his vision red. Hanbyeol couldn’t even scream; he gritted his teeth, snatched the soju bottle from the man’s hand, and threw it away.

“Where do you think you are, you son of a bitch, talking back to your own father. Ha, serves you right!”

“If I’m a son of a bitch, then what are you?”

“…Whaat?”

“What do you call a parent who treats their child like shit.”

Hanbyeol’s eyes widened as he grabbed the man’s collar tightly with both hands and pulled. Rage engulfed his entire body in an instant, then just as quickly subsided. Rather, as his blood ran cold and his mind became clear, a feeling of disgust washed over him more strongly than resentment or betrayal.

A bug-like bastard. A child worse than trash. The very fact that he had been born from such a bastard felt dirty and shameful. It was disgusting, to the point of being revolting, that he shared blood with a man who would beat his own child and wife if things didn’t go his way, and extort money like a gangster.

It was infuriating that the ties of blood were so damn tenacious that he couldn’t escape from this madman. He had reported him and filed for a restraining order, but he had invaded his life so suddenly like this. As if nothing had ever happened.

What on earth did he have to do to escape this lunatic? They had done nothing wrong, so why did they have to live like criminals on the run, spending every day as if walking on thin ice, trembling at the thought of retaliation that might one day come?

Putting him in jail was only a temporary solution, and divorce wasn’t the answer either. Their lives weren’t well-off enough to go through various lawsuits, so reporting him to the police was the only option, but sometimes he would only be in a holding cell for a few days before getting out. And it wasn’t as if they had the money to put him in a mental hospital.

He had no power, and the one who did not abide by the law was, ironically, free before the law. There was no way to restrain him even when he ran around like a rabid dog. He had hurt him again like this, with a soju bottle and with words, but it was clear that even if he reported this, it would only be a temporary fix.

Then isn’t there only one way? To escape this hell, the only way is to eliminate the hell itself. If I just kill him and hide him somewhere, who would know? Who would look for this homeless, crazy drunk, I ask you.

A strong force entered the hands gripping the collar. As his windpipe was constricted, his father, as if wanting to live, struggled with a reddened face. His mouth gaped open as if he desperately wanted to say something. But Hanbyeol didn’t want to hear any of it. He just wanted to end it all today.

Just then, as he was about to put more strength into his hands, someone approached and grabbed Hanbyeol’s wrist. He turned his head with startled eyes to find Jiwoon there.

“H-how.”

Jiwoon, who should have been at the remaining shoot, was standing next to him as if by magic. When he lifted his head slightly, 17 was standing behind him. 17 just watched him with his arms crossed. Jiwoon grunted and pulled on Hanbyeol’s hands, and in the end, Hanbyeol had no choice but to release his grip.

His father, who had been struggling while being held by the collar, collapsed with his legs giving out and gasped for breath. Unable to properly support his body, he coughed and spat out curses loud enough to shake the house.

Just then, from the locked master bedroom, his mother’s shout could be heard, saying the door wouldn’t open and asking what was happening outside. But Hanbyeol was more curious as to why Jiwoon was here, and he couldn’t move, just standing still and blinking his eyes.

“17 t-told me.”

“…”

“I asked him to let m-me know if anything ha-happened to you.”

“What about the shoot.”

“Is that i-important right now?”

Jiwoon looked around, then went straight into the bathroom, came out with a towel, and pressed it against Hanbyeol’s forehead. As he pressed down hard as if to stop the gushing blood, Hanbyeol finally let out a groan.

“It’s b-bleeding a lot. We have to g-go to the hospital first. And c-call the p-police.”

“It’s useless.”

“It-it’s not!”

“…”

“Y-you can’t do that.”

Jiwoon shouted, pressing down firmly to stop the bleeding.

“Y-you can’t k-kill someone. For your sake. Not for anyone else, but f-for your own sake, y-you can’t do that.”

“Then what am I supposed to do.”

Hanbyeol said self-mockingly as he watched his father on the floor, laughing one moment and screaming the next, making a huge scene.

“He’ll be like that forever. Calling the police is only a temporary fix… I don’t know what might happen again when I’m not here.”

“I-I’ll f-find someone who can help you.”

“…What?”

“There’s g-got to be someone. If you look. Just like h-how you h-helped me. If y-you look, there is someone.”

At Jiwoon’s words, Hanbyeol let out a hollow laugh. Who in the world would help with something like this? He hadn’t been able to ask for help anywhere, so who was going to come and solve all this now?

“Here, m-me. There’s a w-witness, too.”

“…”

“Let’s c-call the police and everything. Let’s a-ask for help. There are places l-like counseling centers if you look for them. You were p-probably t-too busy. It m-must have been h-hard because just getting by was tough.”

“…”

“I d-don’t understand everything either. But we m-made a promise. That I would help you.”

Hanbyeol didn’t answer. In his head, the only thought was still that just killing this man and getting rid of him would be the easiest solution. He didn’t want him to shatter his peace anymore. The thought of having to forcibly live in the hell he had created made him feel suffocated.

“D-don’t kill him! Hanbyeol.”

“…”

“It’s your life. D-don’t ruin yourself.”

Hanbyeol gripped the towel Jiwoon was holding and bit his lip. The tears he had been holding back burst forth. Nothing had been resolved, but Jiwoon’s words that he would be here with him broke him down.

Just then, the sound of a siren could be heard in the distance. 17, who had been watching the two quietly, approached and slowly opened his mouth.

“Let’s do as Mr. Myeong Jiwoon says.”

“…”

“I’ve thought of a good idea.”

“Wh-what idea?”

At Jiwoon’s question, 17 met Hanbyeol’s eyes. Seeing the mess, spattered with blood here and there, something flashed through his mind. 17 gazed intently into Hanbyeol’s eyes, as if demanding an answer.

“Shall we do that?”

At 17’s question, Hanbyeol looked at his slumped father. The man who had been screaming his head off was now completely still, as if dead, either because the alcohol had fully taken effect or because he had been briefly suffocated.

Finally, Hanbyeol tore his gaze from his father, looked at 17, and nodded. At that moment, Hanbyeol collapsed, and at the same time, the constantly rattling bedroom door opened and Hanbyeol’s mother and Haneul rushed out. Jiwoon, who had been struggling to support the collapsing Hanbyeol and had ended up slumping to the floor, turned his head as if to ask for help, but 17 was gone without a trace.

Soon, with a shout of, “Police,” the area outside the front door became noisy. The collapsed Hanbyeol, his ashen-faced mother, and Haneul all wailed as if they had fallen into a pit of hell. Jiwoon, feeling as if everything were a dream, unknowingly muttered someone’s name.

Memory crystals glittered brilliantly here and there, but an endless darkness stretched out in the archive. 1129, sitting in the middle of it, turned his head at a sound that seemed to be calling him from somewhere. There, a single black crystal entrusted by God floated low by itself. The crystal, unable to emit its own light, looked like dregs of ash gathered and hardened.

At its pitiful appearance, 1129 felt a strange sense of kinship. How much time had passed? In the pitch-black archive, he could feel nothing. He endured the silence without touching any of the memories. It would have been better if he had stayed here without knowing anything, but to 1129, who had learned too much, this place was excessively empty.

His mind was always full of Jiwoon. The memories of his time with him were so clamorous that they wouldn’t leave him alone for a single moment. As he closed his eyes and retraced each of those moments, the fact that he was alone became deeply engraved in his bones. It was loneliness.

1129 curled up as if exposed to the cold naked in midwinter, just blinking his eyes. If he had known how lonely a space without words, laughter, or warmth could be, if he had known he would realize it so bone-chillingly, he would never have met a human. He never thought all those feelings would be eternal.

But who would dare to vow eternity at every single moment while living? How could one promise eternity? 1129 suffered a belated fever. He broke down helplessly and was shattered. In that state of being shattered to pieces, he stared at the black crystal.

Then, suddenly, 1129 narrowed his eyes at a faint light visible through a crack in the black crystal. He thought it was a reflection from another crystal, but it wasn’t. In the middle of the unevenly clumped crystal, a light, like a speck of dust, was clearly flowing out. 1129, as if mesmerized, started to reach for the crystal, then paused.

After returning to the memory archive, he had resolved inwardly not to touch anyone else’s memories. It was because he wanted to be left neglected like a crystal in the archive for a long time and wait for annihilation. Peeking at each and every memory might fill the emptiness a little. But there was no way he wouldn’t look for Jiwoon in their lives.

It was the same no matter whose life he looked at. It was obvious that even in the memories of someone who had lived a completely different, unrelated life from Jiwoon, he would look for Jiwoon. He knew that in joy and sorrow, and in loneliness and solitude, he would inevitably face Jiwoon’s face.