DP Episode 90

Deep Pivot Episode 90

‘Look me in the eyes and say it!’

The voice cracked with rage, piercing through Seo-joon’s ears. He stared into the abyss-like eyes of the person in front of him. Those eyes were so close that his entire field of vision was nothing but a dark void.

‘How could you do that with someone else and not me?’

Calm down. Don’t be angry, I… I just…

Seo-joon anxiously tried to appease the other. The outstretched hand was violently pushed away as the other almost howled in despair.

‘If I did something like that with someone else, could you handle it? Could you?’

A deafening roar snatched away Seo-joon’s hearing. Seon-wookBeeeeep.Seon-wook A high-pitched ringing filled his ears as his vision spun. The familiar schoolyard echoed with what felt like anguished screams.

‘You should only do that with me! How could you break up with me and be with someone else? How could you!’

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I really…

‘I’m sorry, Seon-wook. Please don’t be angry.’

‘Never say that again, never!’

‘We can never leave each other, Seo-joon. We must never betray one another. You like me, don’t you? I feel the same, Seo-joon. So, never think of leaving me again. Do you understand? Do you understand, Ji Seo-joon? Answer me, Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon.’

Seon-wookZzzz—.Seon-wook A writhing, scarlet organic mass pulled Seo-joon in. Seon-wookJi Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon.Seon-wook A once unified voice splintered into hundreds and thousands of echoes.

An overwhelming cacophony threatened to burst his eardrums. Seon-wookJi Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon.Seon-wook The noise was like audio stretched to 0.5x speed layered over audio sped up to 5x.

The noise, expanding and contracting, grabbed Seo-joon’s arm. An open field. In the distance, Colonel Jin’s assistant sergeant watched as Seo-joon tore off a piece of the gate. His elongated hand was slowly swallowed into the darkness beyond.

Ji Seo-joon.

　　　　　　Ji Seo-joon.Seon-wook

　　　　Seon-wookJi Seo-joon.Seon-wook

　　Seon-wookJi Seo-joon.Seon-wook

Every nerve was shredded, splitting into tens of thousands of noise fragments. It was no longer Min Seon-wook’s voice. Something else entirely, dominant and oppressive like the air he breathed, tore at him.

Seo-joon’s gaze wandered to the corner, where Colonel Jin’s assistant sergeant stood. The sergeant’s face twisted grotesquely, writhing with the cacophony as he watched Seo-joon with a mix of awe and disdain.

Seon-wookCreak, creak, creak.Seon-wook

Seon-wookCre-eak. Creak. Cre-eak.Seon-wook The sound, like scrubbing windows or muscles tearing, spilled out of his mouth. His eyes, swollen to a size that could blanket the sky, loomed over Seo-joon, threatening to swallow him whole.

Seon-wookJi Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon. Ji Seo-joon.Seon-wook

“Lieutenant.”

“Mm—ugh, uh…!”

“Lieutenant!”

A firm grip held Seo-joon’s cheeks, and his eyes snapped open. The first thing he saw was a grotesque mass of flesh.

Gaping holes, gleaming lenses, fissured lumps, red cracks.

Eyes, nose, mouth.

…Cha Yeon-woo’s blue eyes, straight nose, warm lips.

As his brain slowly recognized the features, Seo-joon saw something familiar: the beautiful face of his lover. Finally, a breath escaped his lips.

“…Yeon-woo.”

Seo-joon was pinned beneath Yeon-woo, breathing heavily.

“Are you alright?”

Yeon-woo’s voice trembled slightly, filled with anxious concern. Seo-joon turned his head to the side and looked down at his right arm. The mutated limb extended long, writhing tendrils that reached all the way to the floor under the bed.

“….”

Seo-joon quickly retracted them. Once his arm returned to its normal form, Yeon-woo carefully wiped the sweat from his forehead. Seo-joon’s trembling body was enveloped in Yeon-woo’s warm embrace, which helped calm the shivering deep in his core.

“…You must have had a nightmare.”

A nightmare. That word brought a sense of relief. If it was just a nightmare, that was better than the alternative. Seo-joon looked down at his own hand with a newfound awareness.

Fingernails embedded at the tips of fingers. Veins bulging on the back of his hand. Fingers twitching. They were familiar, but he felt like he was looking at something hideous.

“It’s alright. Nothing happened, Lieutenant. You weren’t like that, but when I woke you up…”

Yeon-woo, perhaps misunderstanding Seo-joon’s inspection of his own hand, took it and tucked it under the blanket. That’s when Seo-joon realized the thought.

One wrong move and his nightmare could have harmed Cha Yeon-woo.

“Are you cold? Should I get you some warm water?”

Yeon-woo, repeatedly rubbing Seo-joon’s shoulders and arms, was about to get out of bed when Seo-joon pulled him closer.

“…Stay like this.”

“But you’re still shaking…”

“I’m fine. Just stay.”

He felt like he’d fall back into that hell if Cha Yeon-woo were to leave. Seo-joon tried to touch as much of Yeon-woo as possible.

Yeon-woo held Seo-joon tightly and laid him back down. He showered Seo-joon’s forehead and eyes with gentle kisses. Despite the warmth, Seo-joon’s body continued to shiver.

“What day is it today?”

Even before getting an answer, the realization hit him.

…He had forgotten.

Min Seon-wook’s death anniversary.

So.

“…That’s why you came to find me.”

“…Lieutenant? Are you okay?”

The chills that had started to subside returned with force. Yeon-woo kissed his face all over. Seon-wookYeon-woo…Seon-wook Seo-joon grasped Yeon-woo’s hand, which was stroking his cheek, and sighed.

After swallowing hard, he spoke with a pause.

“I have somewhere to go today.”

✽✽✽

In the quiet afternoon columbarium where the memorial tablets of fallen espers were housed, Seo-joon parked the car and unbuckled his seatbelt. Yeon-woo followed, carrying a small bouquet and an apple-flavored drink.

“I know you wanted me to come along, but is it okay to miss school for this?”

Seo-joon asked as he accepted the items. Yeon-woo took his hand.

“I didn’t want you to go alone. Besides, I can still graduate even if I don’t meet the attendance requirement.”

Seo-joon started to crack a joke but stopped himself. He wasn’t in the mood, and Yeon-woo’s presence was reassuring. His palm sweated as he held the drink, his hand trembling slightly as he sighed.

Since Seon-wook’s family had moved abroad, Seo-joon had visited his memorial tablet every year on his death anniversary. Usually, Cheong-oh or Hee-min accompanied him, but he had been going alone in recent years. Now, Yeon-woo filled that empty spot.

Seo-joon walked to a familiar spot and stopped. Seon-wook’s face stood out in the family photo with his older brother, younger sister, and parents, and Yeon-woo recognized it easily. He had seen it countless times in the interview videos with Seo-joon.

Seo-joon placed the bouquet down and set the apple-flavored drink in front of the tablet. Though Yeon-woo didn’t know the significance of the drink, he guessed it must have been a favorite of the deceased.

He stood silently beside Seo-joon, who gazed at Seon-wook’s face in the photo for a long time before speaking.

“When we started the second semester of our senior year…”

“….”

“I tried to terminate our exclusive contract.”

Yeon-woo recognized that this story wasn’t about himself and Seo-joon. Seo-joon was talking about Min Seon-wook and Ji Seo-joon. His voice quivered slightly, and the hand Yeon-woo held curled up.

“I thought one day I’d end up hurting him.”