SATURDAY 27

Suicide?

Me?

I swear, I have never once had such a thought. I had heard so many stories from the Shaman about souls who committed suicide, and it was engraved in me as an act that must never be done. Even Inha was the same in that regard.

So why would Inha say such a thing?

‘Why did you push me?’

“….”

Ah, perhaps Inha… no, surely, not to that extent…. He wouldn’t go that far. No matter how much it’s Inha….

No, maybe, if it’s Yoon Inha….

At that moment, a headache rushed in. My whole body felt hot and my vision blurred as a sense of nausea rose. As my head spun and I faltered, Mr. Taeseon released his hand from my head.

I swayed back and forth like a pendulum, suffering from a pain that felt as if my entire body was being crushed, before searching for my medicine as if by instinct.

However, because Mr. Taeseon was on top of me, I couldn’t reach the nightstand. I looked up at him with blank eyes. He remained silent for a moment before stretching his arm toward the nightstand. I thought he might be giving me the medicine, but his arm only knocked everything that was on the nightstand onto the floor.

I blinked slowly. I have to take the medicine. I’m truly suffering right now. For a moment, I felt a sudden heat in my chest, and then a cough surged up.

Turning my head away from Mr. Taeseon, I covered my mouth with my hand and coughed for a long time. Something surged up and burst from my throat. A lukewarm sensation, a sharp metallic smell—it was familiar. It was blood.

I didn’t even have the strength to keep my hand up, so I just let it drop thud. Blood spilled onto the bedsheets and pillow, and it flowed from my mouth as well, but I didn’t have the mind to care. My body was just so hot and painful that I didn’t want to care about anything.

“You really do everything.”

The voice, sounding fed up, stabbed into my chest. I had been crying since some point. Mr. Taeseon pulled me up, still in my pajamas, and started dragging me toward the stairs, then suddenly looked back and paused.

“….”

His expression turned strange. It was that mysterious face I always saw. He seemed to stare at me, and then in an instant, my body was lifted high up.

I tried to call out, Mr. Taeseon…. no, Director… whichever it was, I tried to call him, but before that, blood forced its way out of my throat first. Blood stained Mr. Taeseon’s clothes.

Carried like a piece of luggage, I spoke blankly.

“I’m sorry…. there’s blood on your clothes….”

“….”

Mr. Taeseon did not give any answer. Because of the position I was being carried in, my head was upside down, making the dizziness and headache even stronger. I felt the blood rush to my face, making it flush red. And even in the midst of that, the scent of Mr. Taeseon’s perfume and pheromones reached the tip of my nose.

My physical condition, which had been deathly painful, calmed down slightly. But perhaps that wasn’t enough… around the time we were going down the stairs, I fainted just like that.

∞ ∞ ∞

I thought I understood Inha’s thoughts.

To make me—who considers suicide a sin—die, a much greater sin is required. Inha… he must have jumped in front of the car on purpose. But, he didn’t intend to die.

There was just some mistake. The speed of the car that came rushing with its headlights flashing was too fast, and it was raining heavily.

Inha must have intended to cause a minor accident.

And then, he planned to say that I pushed him.

Between being pushed and jumping in oneself—as long as the jump is executed well—there would be no way to find out the truth later. Inha would have checked in advance that the location was a CCTV blind spot, and he deliberately went to a deserted place to avoid any potential witnesses.

At the final moment, as if seeking help, he pulled on my sleeve which was reflexively stretched out. I was dragged along powerlessly. The reason he dragged me along like that must have been to support the claim that I pushed him. In fact, no such support was even necessary.

Lying on a hospital bed, if he said I pushed him, how would the family react? It was as clear as day. The ghost of the house, the rat born to gnaw away at the family, tried to kill their one and only precious son.

Why would I do that.

I didn’t do it.

Such words are all meaningless. Because the only thing the family members listen to is the words of Inha, a ‘human’. The things I say…. do not even function as conversation. Because they aren’t words spoken by a human.

Even until now, my words to my parents were like words spoken by a plant. No, the plants my parents raised were more loved than I was.

Yes, a parasite.

It’s closer to that.

How horrific must the language of a parasite—making requests while wearing the exact same face as ‘Inha’—have been to my parents.

Even if a parasite says ‘I didn’t do it’, there’s no way they would believe it. Inha’s words were absolute. If that child said he was pushed, then he was pushed. Inha plotted such a thing.

He even told Mr. Taeseon and Kim Sunkyung that he was going to kill me. The reason my parents couldn’t kill me and kept me alive was simply because murder is a crime, and because the Shaman said I must not be forcibly killed.

Then, what if I committed suicide? It’s a good thing for everyone. I, who tried to kill Inha—no matter how much I denied it—could never have been treated properly at home. Of course, I hadn’t been treated well until then either, but from that point on, truly.

Just as Mr. Taeseon said, it would have been a life better off dead. Unable to overcome the continuous, subtle coercion, I would have abandoned Mr. Taeseon and taken my own life. Because I am stupid and weak, I wouldn’t be able to refuse my parents’ strong demands.

Of course, it’s a sorry thing for Mr. Taeseon, but….

In any case, something went wrong with that plan. Inha ended up dying. Probably in my body. In my body? I feel a sense of incongruity, but I didn’t have the mind to think more deeply right now. Inha is dead.

Inha’s body was bent in a strange direction, and raindrops drew ripples on the pool of blood. Inha kept twitching with a pale face.

The light of the car’s taillights briefly shone into his blankly open eyes, but with a loud engine sound, that car soon crashed into a roadside tree.

It was dark. It rained too. I was completely out of my mind. I don’t even remember how I called 119. The memory of that time is faintly empty. Inha’s hair soaked in blood and rainwater, his exposed ankle… ankle?

Was there a tattoo?

As if that part alone had been cut out, it doesn’t come to mind. I sat up unsteadily. I was still dizzy, but it had gotten much better. It was the third day of being hospitalized, and I had mostly spent it either lying down thinking or sleeping. There was a caregiver helping me with daily life.

At first, I tried to refuse the caregiver. However, I had no energy in my body, so I felt I needed someone for at least a few days, even if just to help with washing. To be honest, I didn’t even have the strength to make lather when washing my hair.

I thought it was just a cold, but it was pneumonia compounded by malnutrition. I wondered how it could be malnutrition when I had been eating properly, but it seems I only thought I had eaten and had actually neglected my meals.

Today, the third day, I finally had the strength to get up and move around, but I didn’t even feel like walking around the hospital room that was just unnecessarily spacious.

I sat up unsteadily, picked up the tablet, and lay down again. I turned on the screen and went to the news tab of a portal site, hesitated for a moment, and then searched for “Jeongju Intersection traffic accident”. Nothing came up.

Perhaps it’s only natural. Because the family completely blocked all articles about the accident itself. Though it seems to be circulating in the form of stock market news or things of that nature.

I went to a video streaming site and scrolled down meaninglessly. My eyes weren’t even looking at the screen. My mind was entirely filled with other thoughts. Did Inha know he would die like that?

“….”

Something….

“…?”

Something is… strange….

The tablet screen turned off. My face was reflected in the black, dark screen. Something is strange, but I don’t know what it is. A sense of incongruity that keeps coming to mind. The feeling of looking at a lid that doesn’t fit right.

“What is it….”

Perhaps because my head isn’t clear, I can’t think of it right away. Tilting my head, I turned the tablet back on and pressed on any short-form video. It was because I was anxious. While soothing and pushing away the rushing anxiety with the provocative content of short videos, I moved my finger blankly.

I had been doing that for a long time, truly a long time, when the hospital room door opened without a knock. The one who entered through the slowly opened door was Professor Jang. I tried to sit up unsteadily to greet the professor.

“Profes….”

However, there was one more person behind him.

“….”

It was Mr. Taeseon.