WOP Ch 5.2
by soapa“You…”
Threatening cracks appeared on his smooth, sharp face. It was a harsh reaction, but it made him seem all the more wounded. A strange tension hung in the air. Frowning, he snapped, “Do as you please,” and climbed into his haphazardly parked sedan.
Only after the car had completely disappeared did Ha Joyoon let out a soft sigh and start walking. His steps on the marble lobby floor were heavier and slower than usual.
After an hour’s drive, they arrived at a quiet reservoir far from the city. Despite it being winter, a long, majestic avenue of cedar trees lined the entrance, creating a strange, seasonless landscape.
Whenever the wind blew, the snow accumulated on the towering cedar branches would lose its grip and scatter across the forest. The flurry of white snowflakes created the illusion of falling stars. Joyoon’s eyes, captivated by the breathtaking scene, moved slowly.
Even after parking, Shin Kwonjoo remained motionless. Ha Joyoon, unbuckling his seatbelt, cautiously glanced at the statue-like figure beside him, waiting for a reaction.
“I’ve never been to a place like this before.”
“It’s quiet. I come here sometimes when I have a headache.”
A desolate air hung within the car. Shin Kwonjoo’s profile, as he stared straight ahead, was sharp enough to cut. His raw, unfiltered emotions, so plainly on display, struck Ha Joyoon as unfamiliar.
He was always so composed, perfectly wrapped in an opaque layer that left no cracks visible. This current turmoil, communicated through every nonverbal cue, was something entirely new.
“The hospital…”
His voice broke the silence. Joyoon ducked his head, his voice tight and husky as he cleared his throat. Despite the scarf, the glimpse of skin visible beneath it was pale.
“I’m going regularly.”
“What about what we talked about before?”
“What…”
“Your head.”
Ha Joyoon took a quiet breath, remembering their argument about the hospital.
“I’m continuing with the medication. It’s much better.”
“…I see.”
Even their brief, almost nonexistent conversation was quickly cut short. It felt as if a vast, immeasurable river flowed between them. He had thought they needed to talk, but now, face to face, he couldn’t find the words. He didn’t even know what to say.
After a long, awkward silence, Shin Kwonjoo spoke again.
“I heard you consulted Boyle about your official return date.”
“…Yes.”
He was surprised that Shin Kwonjoo knew about his private consultation, but considering his connection with Damien Boyle, it wasn’t hard to imagine how he’d heard. I see. He nodded slightly, rubbing his chin. After a pause, Joyoon relaxed his body.
“Not immediately… I plan to prepare once I’ve fully recovered.”
“I see. It must have been a difficult decision.”
“A little. My family wasn’t happy about it.”
“People have different opinions. You can’t please everyone.”
“Yes…”
Amidst their stilted conversation, a strong gust of wind sent snowflakes swirling from the tree branches outside. The cedar branches swayed, and the snow danced in the moonlight. The beautiful scenery outside the window made the space feel surreal. Their breaths mingled slowly. Even the silence seemed carefully orchestrated.
“It was a marriage of convenience.”
Shin Kwonjoo spoke, still staring straight ahead. Joyoon held his breath for a moment at the unexpected topic, then slowly shifted his attention. Shin Kwonjoo’s expression was awkward as he added, “This is the first time I’ve talked about this with anyone.”
“Our conditions aligned, and my family was pressuring me to get married. Various circumstances just fell into place. I thought of marriage as a business transaction, so there wasn’t anything difficult about it.”
His eyes, looking back at the past, seemed filled with turmoil. Seemingly not expecting a response, Shin Kwonjoo continued in a calm voice.
“She agreed to the terms, so I thought that was the end of it. Of course, things didn’t go as planned. I thought I could control my marriage like I control my work, but as you know, it was a complete failure.”
His long fingers tapped a steady rhythm on the steering wheel. Joyoon’s eyes flickered as he watched his strong hands.
“Even after we separated, I didn’t want to publicize the divorce because of my social standing. She agreed because she also had something to gain. Since we both benefited, I thought it was efficient.”
“…….”
The image of them leaving the office together suddenly came to mind. The day their precarious emotions had shattered. Holding his breath, Ha Joyoon revisited his feelings from that day.
“I never felt ashamed of it before.”
“…….”
He sighed. His long neck, visible above his coat collar, looked particularly vulnerable to the cold.
“I felt ashamed for the first time. I was embarrassed and anxious thinking that you saw me with her.”
Shin Kwonjoo murmured softly, then fell silent. His sharp gaze seemed to be searching for a specific moment in the past. Outside, the wind intensified, sending snow swirling through the conifers.
After a long moment of contemplation, he tightened and loosened his grip on the steering wheel, then revealed a part of his hidden feelings.
“I didn’t want you to see us together. I rarely lose my composure like that day… I acted even more brazenly towards you. I tried to pretend like nothing had happened.”
He seemed to be talking about the day Joyoon had visited the office to collect his belongings. The feeling of his heart sinking at that moment was difficult to put into words. He’d pretended to be nonchalant as he left with Sunyoung, but his attention had been solely focused on one person until the moment they stepped outside.
“In the end, everything turned into a mess.”
White snowflakes silently accumulated on the road, as if calming the turbulent wind. Shin Kwonjoo glanced at the scenery outside, then slowly turned towards the passenger seat. His face came into Joyoon’s view. His features, sharp and refined like a painting, were tense with anxiety.
“After that night, I didn’t intend to see you again.”
Despite the heater on full blast, every breath felt like a chilling draft. With every gust of wind, the short, stiff green needles of the cedar trees brushed against each other.
“Because I thought you had made your choice.”
“…….”
“But then, you agreed so readily, as if you were waiting for it, and it took my breath away.”
“I felt like I was going crazy.” Shin Kwonjoo added with a self-deprecating chuckle. Although it was said jokingly, his tone was stiff, and the weight of his words was undeniable.
“And then, seeing you again, I really didn’t know what to do, what to say.”
He seemed to be referring to their encounter on the day Joyoon had visited the office. He looked at Ha Joyoon for a moment, then sighed softly.
“I’ve never felt so lost before.”
“…….”
“I felt like I was going insane.”
Raw emotions tumbled unchecked within his dark eyes, scattering carelessly. His lips parted soundlessly, searching for words that wouldn’t come. Ha Joyoon intertwined his dry fingers, his heart pounding painfully in his chest, and offered a different answer.
“…I’m sorry.”
“I’m tired of your apologies.”
Joyoon didn’t know how to react to this unguarded display of emotion. As if understanding his confusion, Shin Kwonjoo let out a faint laugh and covered his eyes.
“Looking back…”
He took a shaky breath.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been rational when it comes to you.”
“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?” He added, his words hanging in the air. His deep voice was steady, but his speech was rapid, a slight tremor at the end of each sentence. Joyoon’s gaze, which had been fixed downwards, finally met Shin Kwonjoo’s directly.
“I’ve received my reassignment orders.”
“…….”
“It’s been moved up sooner than expected, so I’ll likely be leaving within the next month.”
His voice was low and detached. Leaving. Ha Joyoon exhaled slowly at the news of Shin Kwonjoo’s impending departure, sooner than anticipated. He’s leaving. A dull ache resonated within him. He had known this was coming, had been preparing himself, but hearing the confirmation from Shin Kwonjoo himself felt different.
“You’re…leaving already?”
At that moment, Shin Kwonjoo, who had been staring straight ahead, slowly turned his head. His features seemed sharper than a few days ago. His narrow eyes and tightly pressed lips were the same, yet there was an indefinable shift, a subtle difference from before.
“Why. Will you miss me?”
“…….”
Joyoon couldn’t bring himself to answer and closed his eyes. His heart pounded in his chest. As he slowly opened his eyelids, dark, intense eyes came into focus. His direct gaze held a multitude of emotions.
“Come here.”
With a rustle, Shin Kwonjoo extended his long arm. The car was warm from the heater, but the palm that cupped Joyoon’s cheek was slightly cooler.
His large hand covered the entire side of Joyoon’s face. At the encompassing touch, Joyoon kept his gaze lowered. A strange, unsettling stillness settled between them. Shin Kwonjoo slowly stroked his thumb across Joyoon’s dry cheek. It was a surprisingly gentle and respectful gesture, unlike his usual arrogant demeanor. And then, after a long moment, his tightly pressed lips parted.
“Joyoon.”
The unfamiliar endearment resonated within him, a foreign sensation. Like the man himself, it was a direct path, cutting straight through to his heart.
Speechless, Ha Joyoon simply blinked. His lips trembled. The image of this man, who had lived a completely different life, walked a different path, imprinted itself on his mind like a painting, over the shimmering canvas of his eyes, eyes that saw the hidden beauty in the world.
Uncontainable emotions began to bloom across his usually cool features. His gaze no longer held the intent to wound or scratch with words, to judge right and wrong. He was simply present, immersed in the emotions of this moment.
“I missed you.”
Shin Kwonjoo spoke in his usual casual tone. The fidgeting of Joyoon’s intertwined fingers ceased. His throat tightened, and his clear eyes shimmered soundlessly. The small ripples gradually grew into larger waves.
“Ridiculously so.”
A firm palm cupped his soft cheek. His face was turned, their noses brushing gently.
Thump.
Their foreheads touched, hot breaths mingling in the narrow space between. At some point, the man had begun to yearn for someone’s heart, sometimes with impatience, sometimes with longing. Even the touch of his calloused fingers against Joyoon’s thin cheeks spoke of a single, overwhelming emotion.
Their cold and warm hearts slowly intertwined. Every sensation, every tremor between them stirred the air. Words were unnecessary. But just as their lips were about to meet, Ha Joyoon raised his hand and grasped Shin Kwonjoo’s wrists.
“Sunbae-nim.” His clear voice echoed in the small space.
“At some point…”
Taking a deep breath, Ha Joyoon spoke softly. His voice, strained from long suppression, was rough, but Shin Kwonjoo didn’t seem to mind, playfully nudging Joyoon’s eyes with his fingertips. He waited patiently for Joyoon’s slow reply, a reply that had been carefully considered.
“It became difficult…to maintain the boundaries of our rules…in my relationship with you, Sunbae-nim.”
“…….”
“I kept finding myself relying on you, depending on you…”
Memories, and the accompanying emotions, surfaced one by one. Unable to contain his shallow breaths, he buried his face against the pale skin of Joyoon’s neck. The ticklish sensation made Joyoon smile, his eyes still stinging.
“So I thought it would be best to end things.”
Shin Kwonjoo’s face contorted with regret as he listened to Joyoon’s painful confession. The regret of not being honest, of not listening to his heart. But it wasn’t the time to dwell on their past mistakes. Ha Joyoon shook his head.
“I can’t say it was nothing.”
The confusion and pain stemmed from not knowing where it had begun. If he had known, could he have stopped it sooner? Even though he believed that formless emotions would have eventually found their way, regardless, the universe that had sustained him for so long remained vividly etched within him.
“But despite that, there’s still so much left…”
Although the subject and object weren’t clearly defined, they both knew that the lingering residue was his feelings for Kang Taejung. Even though their relationship was in tatters, even though it offered no hope. He knew now that as long as those painful, unresolved feelings remained, he couldn’t fully open his heart to anyone else.
“Sunbae-nim, I…”
“Don’t overthink it.”
“…….”
“The more you think, the more you jump to strange conclusions.”
“…….”
“Come here.”
Shin Kwonjoo murmured, tightening his embrace around Ha Joyoon. The force of it tilted Joyoon’s head back. He inhaled deeply, the cool, familiar scent of Shin Kwonjoo mingling with the warm air from the heater.
Holding Joyoon tightly, the man who had once left him, Shin Kwonjoo frowned. He nuzzled his nose against the soft skin of Joyoon’s neck, his breath hot and insistent, as if staking a claim.
“You’ve become a complicated person, Ha Joyoon.”
His low voice resonated in Joyoon’s chest. The hand gently stroking the back of his head conveyed an indescribable emotion. A chuckle escaped his lips, filling him with a warmth that spread from his toes to the top of his head. Feeling a sense of stability in the tremor, Ha Joyoon closed his eyes.
His reality was still fraught with problems. There were issues to resolve, matters to untangle. His unresolved feelings for Kang Taejung, his feelings for the man currently holding him, and the practical problems that came with it, all weighed heavily on him.
Thump. Thump. Thump. A heartbeat, he couldn’t tell whose, echoed loudly between their chests. Ashamed of the turbulent, painful, and unspeakable emotions within him, he slowly buried his face against Shin Kwonjoo’s broad chest. The tight embrace seemed to bind even his soul. His wandering feet, for this moment, felt firmly grounded. He wondered where this tumultuous journey of his heart would lead.
By the time the car entered his neighborhood, it was well past evening. The streets were covered in a white blanket of snow that had started falling in the afternoon. Large, fluffy snowflakes continued to fall endlessly from the sky. Lost in thought as he watched the snow accumulate, he was startled when the car came to a complete stop at the corner.
“I have to go further in. Why are you asking me to drop you off here?”
His tone was gruff, as if something displeased him. But Ha Joyoon knew what that something was, so he simply chuckled and cleared his throat.
“I want to get some fresh air.”
“Get some fresh air in this weather?”
“Am I a terminal patient or something?”
“Don’t say things like that.”
As expected, he couldn’t hide his displeasure. Somewhere along the way, the man had become less guarded about expressing his emotions. The man who had always perfectly concealed his feelings behind an impassive mask, the man who had seemed so impossibly distant, was now showing his emotions, however clumsily, at eye level.
“…….”
Shin Kwonjoo shifted the car into park, unbuckled his seatbelt, and turned slightly towards the passenger seat. His determined eyes were slightly tense with anxiety.
“I’m leaving for the US at the end of next month.”
Joyoon’s hand, which had been unbuckling his own seatbelt, paused. He had heard it a few hours ago, yet the words struck him with renewed force. Watching the subtle shift in Joyoon’s movement, Shin Kwonjoo slowly revealed the feelings he had unconsciously harbored, he couldn’t even remember since when.
“Come with me.”
“…….”
Their breaths mingled slowly in the sudden silence. Lost for words, Ha Joyoon looked down at the man’s hand holding his.
He knew that every word Shin Kwonjoo spoke was sincere.
You were always so strong, so impossibly strong. As tall as a mountain, as solid as a rock. He had admired his unwavering focus, his forward momentum. He had even envied that strength and meticulousness.
The hand covering his dry one shifted slightly. Long, masculine fingers intertwined with his, filling the spaces between. As Shin Kwonjoo slowly interlocked their fingers, Joyoon noticed the absence of a wedding ring on his left ring finger.
‘You should wait, too.’
‘I need time to sort things out.’
…Reaching the end of his journey through the past, Ha Joyoon finally understood the meaning of the “sorting out” Shin Kwonjoo had spoken of. To hide his welling tears, he leaned his forehead against the cold car window and took a shallow breath. He tightened his grip on Shin Kwonjoo’s hand, his interlaced fingers conveying a multitude of unspoken meanings and intentions.
It was well past dinner time when Taejung arrived at his family home. The completely darkened sky offered no light, as if it were the middle of the night. He was so distraught that he couldn’t even remember the drive. Breathing heavily, Kang Taejung turned towards the familiar building.
His eyes, calm as the stillness before a storm, fixed on a small, curtained window on the second floor. The window, shielded by the curtains, was as dark as the sky, indicating no one was home. Disappointment clouded his handsome features.
Hiss— hiss—
An old streetlight flickered weakly, its remaining lifespan dwindling. The dim orange glow flickered like a dying star.
Kang Taejung held his breath, then exhaled deeply. Even though he knew no one was there, he couldn’t tear his gaze away. His heart pounded against his ribs. He knew he would have other opportunities to see Ha Joyoon, but an inexplicable anxiety grew within him with each passing moment. As if his entire being depended on that small window, his gaze remained fixed, a tangled mess of longing and self-reproach.
…….
The sky, dry just moments ago, began to sprinkle snowflakes. The tiny ice crystals melted into watermarks on his skin and disappeared. A gust of wind, carrying snowflakes and presaging the bitter cold, blew past.
Kang Taejung, feeling a lump in his throat, instinctively took out a cigarette and lit it. The small flame and the embers danced in the wind, rising towards the sky. Watching the insignificant, fleeting sparks, he reluctantly turned his steps towards his family home next door.
Unable to see him when he wanted, unable to meet him when he desired. As if the times they had seen each other, talked, and loved freely were all a lie.
Thinking absently that the entire neighborhood would be covered in snow by morning, Taejung passed through the outer gate and headed towards the main entrance. Exhaustion weighed heavily on him, and he longed to collapse and sleep. He rubbed his tired eyes.
Beep— beep. The door unlocked as he entered the code. The cold wind was replaced by a wave of warm air escaping through the opened door.
“I’m home.”
He greeted his family out of habit as he took off his shoes. There was no reply, unlike usual, but he didn’t mind and reached for the handle of the inner door. At that moment, the door opened, and someone rushed out.
Thump—
After the brief impact, Kang Taejung recognized the person he’d collided with. The woman, her face streaked with tears, was clearly Joyoon’s mother.
“Ahjumma.”
“Oh, Taejung… I’m sorry… I wasn’t paying attention… sob…”
Her voice was filled with raw pain. Taken aback, Kang Taejung placed his hands on her shoulders. Hic… sob, sob. Her muffled cries mingled with the cold air.
“Ahjumma, what’s wrong?”
“No, it’s nothing… I’m sorry, Taejung. I have to go…”
Wiping her wet cheeks, she hurried out the door. At the same time, his own mother emerged from the living room.
“Hyesun! Oh, Taejung, did Hyesun just leave?”
“Yes, she just left.”
Still slightly dazed, Taejung watched the spot where she had disappeared and replied quietly. His mother, arms crossed, also looked in the direction his friend had gone, her wrinkled face etched with worry.
“What happened? She seemed very upset.”
Taking off his coat, Kang Taejung asked in a monotone. His mother sighed deeply.
“I think Joyoon said he’s leaving again. And it’s the same country where he had the accident before…”
Thud.
The briefcase and files he was carrying clattered to the floor. The papers inside the files scattered.
“Where…?”
He couldn’t speak properly, his voice raspy as if his throat had been scorched by flames. A guttural sound, as if his insides were being wrung out, escaped his throat. Was this his own voice? Dizzy and disoriented, Kang Taejung clutched his throat with a trembling hand.
“Taejung…”
“Who… where did you say he’s going?”
As the last question left his lips, the precarious pillar that had been barely supporting him crumbled completely. With the main support gone, the other cracked pillars followed, crashing to the ground one after another.
His universe shattered, and nothing remained beneath his feet but a bottomless abyss. The searing pain, the agony, his heart tearing apart, his mind a chaotic mess. Taejung remembered this feeling vividly. It was exactly the same as a few years ago, when he’d received the phone call about Ha Joyoon’s disappearance.
Winter was ending. He was preparing for his third seasonal farewell since returning, and his heart felt unusually restless.
The click of the lock echoed as the front door opened. The chill that greeted him confirmed that he was alone. Had everyone gone out? He recalled his family’s schedules from that morning as he switched on the lights.
The sudden brightness revealed an empty house. He placed his scarf on the sofa and climbed the stairs, the old wood creaking with each step.
He opened his bedroom door, the familiar scene unfolding before him. The heat was off, and his breath puffed out in white clouds. Rubbing his cold hands against the fabric of his coat, Ha Joyoon took it off and hung it over a chair. As his body shed its outer layers, the tension he’d carried throughout the day seemed to dissipate, replaced by a sense of calm.
He massaged his stiff muscles and turned on the heater. Returning to his bed, he finally felt the day was over and collapsed onto the mattress.
“Ah…”
A suppressed groan escaped his lips. He rubbed his cold cheeks and took a deep breath. His thin back arched, his soft hair falling around him as his head tilted back. His eyes drifted, recalling his last moments with the man he’d just parted ways with.
‘Don’t make me wait too long.’
Shin Kwonjoo had said, his expression somber as he caressed Joyoon’s face. When the desired answer didn’t come, his frown had deepened. The agonizing tension had stretched on until Joyoon had finally nodded in reluctant agreement.
He gradually tightened his hands, which rested on his knees. He clenched and unclenched his fists, the muscles in his palms and fingers contracting and relaxing. He could still feel the warmth of Shin Kwonjoo’s hand, a lingering phantom sensation.
“Ha…”
With a deep sigh, Joyoon closed his eyes. It was a night for reflection, burdened by the weight of another’s emotions. Emotions were a natural byproduct, a result of interacting with someone. Their form might vary from person to person, but they were forged through shared experiences and communication. Ultimately, both he and Shin Kwonjoo were responsible for their feelings.
It had been a relationship with a flawed beginning, but…
His thin eyelids fluttered. Ha Joyoon covered his pale face with trembling hands.
Ha…
A sigh escaped his lips, trapped within his calloused palms. A wave of dizziness washed over him. His straightened shoulders trembled. A single tear traced a silent path down his cheek. Drip, drip. Even as he covered his eyes, the tears wouldn’t stop.
…The man’s face, after so long, looked thinner, wearier. And it pained him.
He was afraid of his growing feelings. He tried to resist, but his heart was drawn to him. However, before his feelings for Shin Kwonjoo, there were still too many unresolved issues within his own heart. He had already experienced a devastating loss. Even though he had found some solace and understanding with Shin Kwonjoo, the scars of his past heartbreak remained deep, vivid, and cruel.
His selfishness and weaknesses, the reasons why Kang Taejung had had to leave, were still there. He might choose his convictions over love again someday, and if so, he would have to bear the unpredictable consequences and responsibilities. He wasn’t sure he could endure that pain again.
‘Hyung has been struggling since Ha Joyoon returned.’
‘I want to give up.’
‘You’ve lived your life doing everything you wanted…’
‘I’m not sure I can wait for you anymore. …It’s a separate issue from how I feel about you. Five years of despair and pain was enough.’
‘Please don’t make hyung suffer anymore. The past five years have been incredibly difficult and painful for him. He’s waited long enough for Ha Joyoon. I wish you wouldn’t get involved with him like this now. I’m begging you.’
‘I know it was hard for you too, but I was also hurting so much. I can’t bear to wait any longer, constantly worrying about you. I don’t want to resent you, and I don’t want to ask you to give up the photography you love. If that’s the case, I think it’s right for me to let you go.’
His hands, covering his face, trembled violently. The tears that had started as a trickle now streamed down his cheeks. The pain he had buried deep within him, the pain he thought had decayed and withered away, resurfaced with vivid clarity.
Kang Taejung’s final, heart-wrenching words and Seo Youngwoo’s desperate plea echoed in his mind, a chaotic jumble. Their words weren’t just words. They were a culmination of the countless hours they had endured, their emotions compressed into a single, powerful roar. It felt as if his chest was being ripped open, his insides pierced. He was overwhelmed with guilt, self-reproach, and pain.
He wasn’t confident. Even if he started a new relationship, there was no guarantee that the other person wouldn’t suffer and be hurt like Kang Taejung. Whether that person was Shin Kwonjoo or someone else entirely.
He was meant to be alone. He was meant to live and die alone, without meeting anyone, without forming any relationships, without hurting anyone. He deserved nothing else.
Hot tears streamed down his face, soaking his ears, his hair, the sheets. He was sinking into a bottomless pit of despair, when—
————Bang———!
Just as he was about to be swallowed by the deep sea of his consciousness, a loud banging on the door jolted him back to the surface.
“…What…”
Startled by the violent sound, Ha Joyoon turned towards the door, his face still wet with tears. His eyes widened in disbelief at the figure standing in the open doorway.
“…Taejung?”
Kang Taejung, his face ashen, finally met Joyoon’s gaze at the sound of his name. His handsome face was damp with sweat, his breath coming in ragged gasps as if he had been running. He clenched his jaw and looked up.
“Wh…what’s going on…?”
Quickly wiping his wet eyes, Joyoon sat up. Taejung remained silent, just panting, seemingly unable to even step inside.
“Taejung?”
At the sound of his unsteady voice, Taejung’s tall frame flinched. But his dazed demeanor remained, so Ha Joyoon hesitantly got out of bed and walked towards him. Even in that short distance, he repeatedly rubbed his wet cheeks with the back of his hand, as if trying to erase the traces of his vulnerability.
“Why are you standing there… Come in… Did you have something to say?”
Blinking his red eyes, Ha Joyoon reached out and grasped the lapel of Kang Taejung’s coat. He was pale and sweating, as if something was terribly wrong. “Taejung?” He called out, his voice laced with concern, but the anguish etched across his face only intensified.
“Are you…leaving again?”
Kang Taejung spoke slowly, tightening his grip on Joyoon’s hand. The force of it made Joyoon wince.
“What are you talking about…?”
“Are you leaving again?”
“Huh?”
Confused, Ha Joyoon tilted his head. But his attempt to ask for clarification was instantly obliterated by a sudden, unexpected blow.
“Are you leaving again?!”
His sharply defined features crumpled like paper. And then Ha Joyoon finally understood what Kang Taejung meant.
“Really?!”
Kang Taejung’s voice rose to a shriek as he grabbed Joyoon’s shoulders, his face pale. Joyoon flinched at the force of his grip, but Taejung, lost in his emotions, saw nothing.
A searing heat engulfed him. Crackle, crackle. Small sparks erupted into an inferno, threatening to consume his insides, his muscles, his skin. A choked sound, a mixture of a scream and a moan, escaped his lips. His fingers, gripping Joyoon’s thin shoulders, trembled uncontrollably.
“Why?!”
“Taejung…”
“Why! Why, again?!”
Uncontrollable tears welled up in his eyes. Tears streamed down Kang Taejung’s flushed face. Before Joyoon could even register them as tears, his face was wet, his features contorted in anguish. His lips, pressed together so tightly that the skin threatened to split, trembled pathetically.
“Why… why… why are you…”
Hot breath and a ragged voice escaped through his clenched teeth. Unable to even blink, Kang Taejung simply stared at Joyoon, tears streaming down his face.
“Why are you saying you’re leaving again…? Huh? Are you really trying to die? This time…do you really want to die?!”
“…….”
“Do you…really want to kill me? Do you hate me that much? Is that why you’re leaving?”
“Taejung…what’s wrong?”
“Are you leaving because you truly despise me? Because I’ve been so cruel to you? Because I betrayed you? Because I changed my mind? Because you resent me? Yoon-ah, is that it?”
His throat constricted, choking off his voice. He could only cry, hot tears streaming down his face, mirroring the man before him. His pale face was wet with tears.
“Taejung, Taejung…”
“Just answer me…huh? I’m going crazy…please…tell me.”
“Taejung…”
“I’m going crazy, so just tell me!! Please!”
Every word was an agony, a scream. Kang Taejung’s breakdown, his complete inability to defend himself against the onslaught of his emotions, struck Ha Joyoon with unbearable force. He had known him for so long, yet he had never seen him like this. The Kang Taejung he knew was always kind, rational, and composed. This…this wasn’t…
You…
You, during the time I was gone…
You…
A silent scream echoed within him, and Ha Joyoon closed his eyes. Tears, clinging to his eyelashes, streamed down his face like rain. It felt as if he was finally seeing his lover, the life he had endured, during those years he had been absent. It was as if he was facing Kang Taejung’s past, the way his world had crumbled after hearing about his accident.
Exposed and vulnerable, Ha Joyoon was once again attacked by the overwhelming weight of his selfish past, a despair too profound to be captured by the words of those around him.
Did I push you this far? Did I…
“Don’t go.”
His voice trembled, his jaw quivering from the force of his emotion. His bloodshot eyes fixed on Ha Joyoon as he grabbed him again. Consumed by fear and anxiety, he was drowning in his emotions, unable to communicate rationally.
“Don’t go!”
“Taejung…”
“Please don’t go. It was all my fault.”
“Taejung…I, I…”
“Please! Please, just…”
Ha Joyoon’s downcast gaze suddenly landed on Kang Taejung’s feet.
“Ah…”
A sharp pang of guilt pierced his heart, and fresh tears streamed down his face. He gasped for breath, clenching his jaw. Agony and guilt bound him in chains.
“Taejung, sob, your, your feet…your feet…”
As if he had run here without even putting on his shoes properly, Kang Taejung’s black socks were covered in dirt and dust. Joyoon’s trembling hands reached out, tracing the outline of Taejung’s feet. He wept openly at the sight of Taejung’s disheveled state. You, you…
Clinging to Joyoon’s thin frame like a lifeline, Taejung repeated the same words, his mind unraveling.
“It was all my fault. I deserve to die for what I did to you.”
“Taejung, are you hurt anywhere…?”
“Don’t go.”
“Your feet, sob…”
“I was so scared. I was so scared that if I saw you again, I’d fall apart like this. I wasn’t confident I could fully understand your work…and I kept having these terrible thoughts about you getting hurt. I…”
“Taejung, ah…”
Ha Joyoon raised a trembling hand and cupped Kang Taejung’s tear-streaked face. But Taejung grabbed his hand and pressed his lips against his palm. “Yoon-ah, I, I…” His unguarded heart overflowed with the confessions of his cowardly, weak past.
“I was scared. I couldn’t…I couldn’t bear the reality of you not being here…It was easier to pretend you weren’t real…that it was all a dream, that your return was a dream, so I wouldn’t have to suffer anymore.”
“…….”
“I tried…not to acknowledge your return…I buried it deep within my subconscious…”
It was reality, but it wasn’t. He could touch him, but he couldn’t. He could talk to him, but he couldn’t. To him, Ha Joyoon was a dream, a mirage conjured by someone who pitied him after five years of agonizing waiting. That’s why it was even more cruel.
“Because you were a dream…even though you’re back now, you’ll leave again…so I thought it would be better to forget that you ever returned. I had to do that to survive. That’s why I was so cruel to you. So…”
But in the inescapable alleyways of his subconscious, Kang Taejung was forced to confront the harsh reality. As he’d driven here frantically after hearing his mother’s words, he had finally realized the truth he had been hiding from himself.
Never once,
not even once, had he truly let go of Ha Joyoon.
He hadn’t truly broken up with him.
He had simply avoided and evaded him, never truly believing that he would be completely separated from Ha Joyoon. His love and longing had grown so immense that they had transformed into resentment and anger, a shield he used to push Joyoon away. Because it wasn’t real. Because he was a dream.
In truth, he had resented him. He had resented him for disappearing for so long. He had felt bitter and abandoned. So he had shown Joyoon all his ugliness, believing that even if Joyoon accepted his resentment, he would stay by his side, because he was a dream.
He had been too ashamed to admit his cowardly, despicable feelings…
“So please don’t go. Just stay here…Yoon-ah, I’ll spend my entire life atoning for my sins…I, I…”
Hearing that Joyoon was leaving for another war zone had ripped Taejung from his sea of illusions. He had been forced to confront reality, that Ha Joyoon had truly returned. And with that realization came an overwhelming wave of terror. If Joyoon left this time, he would surely die. And he truly couldn’t bear to live through his absence again. He couldn’t bear to breathe, to smile. He knew that something within him was irrevocably broken, but he didn’t know where or how to fix it. Having chosen to live a life of festering wounds for so long that he couldn’t even remember when it had begun, Kang Taejung was powerless and defenseless against the attack of reality.
“Please…”
“Taejung.”
A voice, choked with pain, called out to him. His unfocused eyes found the source of the sound. He saw his lover, clinging to him, trembling and weeping. Joyoon’s pale, sickly face came into focus. He loosened his grip on Joyoon’s shoulders and stumbled back a step.
“I…Yoon-ah…”
“Taejung…I’m so sorry…”
“I…”
“Taejung, I’m so, so sorry…”
Tears of regret streamed down his face. He collapsed to the floor, his strength gone. Tears flowed unchecked down his dry cheeks. He remembered Taejung’s kindness, his strength. My sea, my tree. But had he been this broken? Had he endured the past five years in such a state?
You…because of me…
A choked sob escaped his lips, his hands covering his face. Joyoon couldn’t bear the thought that his selfishness had ruined Kang Taejung’s entire life. Guilt tore through him. Sobbing into his hands, he finally revealed his raw, unfiltered emotions, the feelings he had hidden and suppressed until they festered. The feelings that had been dying, unspoken.
“Taejung, I love you.”
His choked confession erupted into a torrent of tears, a downpour of emotions threatening to wash everything away. Love. Kang Taejung, who had been mechanically repeating his words, oblivious to any possible response, flinched. His deadened eyes flickered at the word.
“Taejung, I truly love you…”
“…….”
Swallowing back a sob, Joyoon forced the words out, his voice barely a whisper. His thin chest heaved with emotion.
“Because I truly love you…”
He remembered their beautiful past, the time when they loved each other, whispered sweet nothings, held each other close. That fulfilling past, those radiant feelings, were now holding Taejung hostage, trapping him in stagnant water. He hadn’t realized that at the end of those agonizing years, unable to forget the past or embrace the future, tormented by the chasm between reality and his heart, Taejung, too, was drowning in his pain.
He had thought that if he sorted out his own feelings, everything would be fine. That if he just forgot and moved on, since Taejung had left him, it would be over. It was a cowardly, foolish delusion.
“I…”
With trembling hands, Ha Joyoon cupped his lover’s feet. The dirt and dust clinging to them seemed to symbolize his own role in Taejung’s suffering. Tears fell, forming small circles on the floor. His fingers trembled against Taejung’s skin.
“I…I made you sick, I ruined you…”
I loved you. I loved you so much, and I was so grateful for your love that I wanted to be the eyes of this harsh world for you. I wanted to expose the injustices of others’ lives. But you, who had once filled me with such overwhelming joy and light, had you been enduring such a cruel and lonely life? Had you been suffering, consumed by anxiety about me leaving your side, flying out into the world?
Even as he had understood Taejung’s pain, the pain of being rejected, of clinging desperately, of being pushed away, of seeking solace in another, he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge the finality of their breakup. Even as he opened his heart to someone else, he couldn’t truly let go.
Because if he admitted it, it would truly be over. As if that time would disappear.
But now, he truly had to let go. For Taejung’s sake, they had to truly break up. So that Taejung wouldn’t drown in his love for him, so that he could become strong again, so that he could reclaim the vibrant person he once was.
…So that he could fully love the person who was now by his side.
His thin back shuddered with each ragged breath. His trembling hands had long lost their strength.
“Let’s break up, Taejung…”
Unable to wipe away the endless stream of tears, Ha Joyoon gently cupped his lover’s dirt-stained feet in his hands. He couldn’t fathom the depth of the wounds hidden within.
“Let’s truly break up…”
His hunched shoulders shook with emotion. Seeing Taejung’s breakdown before him, Ha Joyoon realized with a pang that he wasn’t the only one who needed closure.
You were hurt too, you were in pain too…but I was so consumed by my own pain and grief that I didn’t even notice your suffering…We, we loved each other for so long, yet we couldn’t even bring ourselves to truly end it…
Twenty-six-year-old Ha Joyoon faced his thirty-one-year-old self. Across the five lost years, he saw his lover, ravaged by loneliness and pain in the time he couldn’t remember. To the twenty-six-year-old Ha Joyoon, who had clung desperately, begging him not to leave, the thirty-one-year-old Ha Joyoon, who now understood and accepted his lover’s pain, whispered:
He has waited long enough. Let him go. So now, let him go. Don’t leave your former love alone in this unbearable hell any longer.
At the same time, Taejung’s gaze, fixed on the top of Joyoon’s bowed head between his feet, darkened.
“Let’s break up…”
“Let’s break up.” “Let’s break up…” The choked words echoed heavily in the desolate space. Each syllable carried an unbearable weight, a reflection of the immeasurable pain he had endured.
“Let’s break up…”
Kang Taejung stared blankly ahead, replaying the words in his mind. When I said those words to you, what expression did you wear? Your face, your voice, you…
His mind spiraled downwards, retracing the past. He had been the one to say it first. He had been the one to initiate the breakup, to turn away, to avoid.
Taejung knew, more than anyone, that their relationship had dragged on this far only because Ha Joyoon hadn’t let go of the last remaining thread. The cowardly, selfish belief that even if he let go, Joyoon wouldn’t. The horrifically egotistical thought that even if he abandoned him, Joyoon, in his soft-heartedness, wouldn’t leave him.
And the feeling hidden even deeper within…
Gazing at his former lover’s weeping form with an impassive expression, Kang Taejung forced his lips open.
“I…”
“I…Yoon-ah, I…”
What should he say? His mind was a chaotic mess, unable to process a beginning, an end, or anything in between. Unable to find the words, like a fool, Kang Taejung simply lowered his head. He saw Joyoon at his feet, his body still trembling with sobs. He felt paralyzed, as if weighed down by iron.
Let’s break up. The words from Ha Joyoon’s mouth were enough to completely shatter the fragile remnants of Taejung’s composure. Let’s break up. The phrase echoed relentlessly in his ears.
The fear, the dread, the despair he had felt since that dark Christmas Eve when he’d received the camera, the symbol of their young, clumsy love, began to churn within him like intricate clockwork.
Every situation, every word, every emotion pointed towards a single conclusion.
That you’re preparing to leave me,
that our relationship is truly over,
that fact…
“…….”
After standing frozen for a long time, Kang Taejung finally bent down. His eyes, filled with bitter regret, watched Ha Joyoon’s hands clinging desperately to his feet. Hesitantly, he reached out and grasped Joyoon’s thin wrists.
You’re so thin. So frail…
His firm hands enveloped Joyoon’s soft skin in warmth. He hadn’t truly believed it was over, even after saying the words himself. Not for a single moment had he considered it a real goodbye.
It had only been a few months ago, but the memories and emotions were already hazy, as if from decades past. The words you spoke, your emotions, your tears, and my own situation, feelings, thoughts as I received them…
Still holding Joyoon’s hands, Kang Taejung kept his head lowered, clenching his jaw to suppress the tremors wracking his body. He bit down hard, punishing himself, until the soft flesh inside his cheek tore.
“…Did I clip your wings?”
After a long silence, his voice, thick with emotion, uttered the self-deprecating words. As soon as he finished speaking, Joyoon slowly shook his head. Tears traced a path down his cheeks, and Kang Taejung’s face, watching him, became wet once more.
“Did I hold you back…?”
His trembling voice was rough, but he couldn’t control the tremors that wracked his body. Kang Taejung wrapped his arms around Joyoon, who was huddled at his feet, his face buried against Joyoon’s neck.
“Did I torment you…?”
He buried his nose in Joyoon’s neck, inhaling the clean scent of soap with each shaky breath. Ah… A groan, heavy with unspoken grief, escaped his lips. The scent. The scent he loved. His lover, who had always carried the unassuming fragrance of soap. A quiet, thoughtful scent, a reflection of Joyoon’s nature.
“No…”
“…I…”
“Taejung.”
“…….”
“Taejung, look at me. Please? Look at me…”
The body in his arms shuddered again.
“It’s not like that…okay?”
Joyoon’s voice, muffled by his choked sobs, was barely audible, yet it held a strange power.
“Taejung.”