WOP Ch 1.1

Longing.

It was the first emotion the man became aware of.  

Longing for someone—just one person—burned like a flame. A fierce ache directed at a single soul. Your face, your smile, the warmth you gave me. Things I once took for granted but were never truly guaranteed.  

[…! …le… wa… upto…]  

Fragments of consciousness, floating like buoys in his mind, slowly began to return at the sound of a voice filling his head.  

[…sor …thel!]  

A loud noise. A language both familiar and unfamiliar at once. He tried to locate its source, but for some reason, even that simple act felt impossible. Were his eyes closed? All he could see was utter darkness, devoid of color—so perhaps they were.  

With all his strength, he forced his eyes open. A sliver of light seeped through the pitch-black void. At the same time, the scattered puzzle pieces of his consciousness fell into place. As memories rushed in like crashing waves, a sigh escaped his lips.  

Ah….  

[Mr. Ha!]  

A voice, filled with yearning, relief, shock, and astonishment—emotions beyond the confines of language. As he blinked slowly, unfamiliar faces gradually came into view. The moment he registered them, his dry cheeks became damp.  

Five years.  

That was how long Ha Joyoon, a war correspondent for TPA Communications, had remained unconscious after sustaining a head injury in a gunfight during the Syrian Civil War.  

❄  

Tap. Tap.  

The damp asphalt road, soaked by last night’s rain, made a crisp sound under his footfalls. It was a simple noise, one he should have grown tired of, yet he tilted his head curiously, repeating the motion as if fascinated. His light brown hair swayed gently with the movement. Though his long hospitalization had left him gaunt, his natural elegance remained intact.  

Tap. Tap. The same sound resonated like the plucking of a string instrument. A subtle change flickered across his dazed expression.  

He had thought he might never experience this again. That realization made even this trivial sound precious beyond words.  

Lost in the sheer wonder of being alive, Jo-yoon repeated the same action over and over. He was oblivious to the murmurs of passersby who found his behavior suspicious. Only the fading summer sun watched him silently.  

“Am I too late…?”  

His expression darkened as he checked the time.  

Five years.  

Too long. Yet, despite the vast stretch of time, one face remained as vivid as if he had seen it only yesterday.  

Though he had miraculously regained consciousness, he had been unable to return home immediately. His body was in shambles. After being transferred to the South Korean embassy in Lebanon, it took months of treatment at a proper medical facility before he could even walk again.  

The moment he regained mobility, he requested repatriation. The local medical staff strongly opposed his departure, insisting he wasn’t fully recovered—but he couldn’t afford to wait any longer.  

After enduring countless hardships on his journey home, Ha Joyoon’s first destination was not a hospital.  

There was someone more important than the scars of his injury, which still lingered like a ticking time bomb in his mind.  

The face he longed to see. The person he yearned to meet. The unbearable ache of longing made every second of his return an eternity. It was the first time he had ever felt such an intense craving. Bewildered by the unfamiliar sensation, he ruffled his hair with his thin fingers.  

His wait ended just as the early summer sun began to warm the tip of his nose.  

It didn’t take long before the rhythm of his footsteps was joined by another—a second set of footsteps approaching.  

Two steps, one step.  

As the distance between them shrank, the heart that had been reveling in newfound sensations now pounded with a different kind of intensity. His sharp, upturned eyes trembled slightly with nerves.  

A familiar gait.  

There was another person walking alongside them, but picking out the primary footsteps was effortless. Even if no one told him, Ha Joyoon knew exactly whose steps they were.  

How could he not?  

Steady, heavy, just like their owner.  

Someone who never spoke frivolously, incapable of empty words, yet utterly unwavering in the promises they did make. Awkward and rigid, with no sense of humor, but with a heart warmer than anyone else’s. Always burdened by a needless sense of responsibility.  

Jo-yoon had teased them for it countless times. But in truth, that steadfastness was what he had loved most about his partner.

The one who kept him grounded in reality, who held onto him when he always seemed to float a little above the ground, was his lover.  

A lover more serious and warmer than anyone else,  

Kang Taejung.  

The reason for my return.  

Even as I left Korea habitually, driven by an intangible sense of duty and emptiness, I always thought I had to come back one day. It wasn’t because of family or friends, but because of just one person.  

Would he have changed a lot? Probably not.  

What should I say? He’ll probably be surprised.  

He rarely shows any expression, but maybe this time, he really will be. Will he be very angry? That seems likely.  

Convincing my lover, who had begged me not to go, had led to the worst possible outcome. Even so, I had believed he would wait for me. Even knowing it was endless selfishness, even knowing it was a cruel indulgence, Ha Joyoon asked his lover to wait just one more time before leaving Korea.  

That was five years ago.  

I don’t know how to apologize. If he hits me, I’ll take it. If he curses at me, I’ll just listen. Ha Joyoon let out a bitter smile. And when all his anger subsided, I wanted to hold him and promise never to do anything reckless again. Just as he had endured and given up so much for me, now I wanted to do something for him. Even if it meant going against everything I had believed in until now, just once… just once.  

His tangled thoughts came to a stop when the approaching footsteps finally ceased. Even from the sound of his distinct, quiet breathing, Ha Joyoon knew that the shadow in front of him belonged to his lover. Taking a deep breath to steady his overwhelming emotions, Joyoon hesitated. He wanted to run to Tae-jung’s broad embrace right away.  

“Taejung!”  

They had been in a relationship for eight years. No—if he included the time he was unconscious, it was thirteen years.  

They had been together since birth, so if he counted the time they had known each other, it would be thirty-one years.  

Ha Joyoon lifted his head to see Kang Taejung, his only friend and likely lifelong lover, and at that moment, he swore—he could never have predicted what would happen next.  

“…Ha… Joyoon?”  

He swore, he never imagined that instead of welcome and longing, Tae-jung would look at him with shock as if he were seeing a ghost.  

And he never imagined that standing beside Kang Taejung, holding his hand, would be someone else.  

 ❄

“You arrived yesterday?”  

After a long silence, a short question broke through. Ha Joyoon, unable to answer immediately, grabbed the glass in front of him instead. It had been left untouched for a while, and its surface was damp with condensation.  

Unable to find words, he lowered his gaze. Under the table, he could see their legs—two pairs.  

A violin melody flowed through the café, sketching out sharp, nervous notes. Bach played so hysterically—it wasn’t his taste at all. Feeling utterly lost, Joyoon rubbed his dry hands against his cheeks and jaw. It felt as if all the moisture in his body was about to dry up. After a long hesitation, he finally nodded with difficulty.  

“Yeah.”  

At his brief reply, one side of Kang Taejung’s cheek twitched slightly—a habit of his whenever he was displeased or about to get angry.  

“What… happened?”  

“…….”  

“How could you not send a single message in five years?”  

The murmured words carried years of pent-up anger.  

When you used that voice with me, it was only ever when you were truly furious. It was understandable, but for some reason, it made Ha Joyoon feel bitter. Tae-jung’s anger toward him was justified. He knew that. Wasn’t this exactly what he had expected?  

“Did you ever think about the people who waited endlessly for you, even once?”  

“…….”  

“Explain yourself properly.”  

“…….”  

“Ha Joyoon!”  

As Joyoon turned his head slightly, an unfamiliar face came into view. This was the person who had insisted on joining them, despite Joyoon’s request to talk alone. Of course, his presence had only been possible with Kang Taejung’s silent approval.  

Joyoon would never forget the moment Tae-jung hesitated before finally nodding and allowing it.  

The stranger’s expression wasn’t good either. His furrowed brows showed his unease about Tae-jung’s feelings.  

Ah… A deep sigh, unable to turn into words, pounded around his heart. The image of the two holding hands flashed through his mind. A wave of unbearable pain surged within him.  

Five years. 1,825 days.  

A long time. A very long time.  

…Had it been long? Had it been long enough to trade for eternity? The number *five years* kept circling around Ha Joyoon’s mind.  

“There was an accident.”  

Ha Joyoon finally turned his gaze away from the stranger and gave a brief explanation. His words did not seem to satisfy Tae-jung, whose thick brows furrowed even deeper.  

“An accident? That’s all you have to say? You…!!”  

His rightful anger.  

His slowly clenched fists trembled slightly. Tae-jung’s fury was justified. But so was Ha Joyoon’s sorrow.  

He had gone to sleep. Then he had woken up. That was all. And yet, everything had changed. Maybe only one thing had changed, but that one thing was everything to him.  

When he finally lifted his head, he met Tae-jung’s dark eyes.  

Night.  

Eyes as black as the night stared straight at him. Ha Joyoon, too, looked at him without blinking. Just like in the past, when they had only thought of each other, when they had only loved each other.  

The pale lighting shattered into pieces.  

Swallowing against the unexplainable distance between them, Ha Joyoon finally forced out the words.  

“There was a shootout… I got caught in a protest while filming. I was shot. I was unconscious for five years. I only woke up a few months ago….”  

Until just a few months ago, Syria had been in a dire situation. The hospital treating Ha Joyoon was merely an improvised facility run by civilian forces. Despite the poor conditions, they never abandoned him, even in the middle of a battlefield where people died every day. It was a debt he could never repay in a lifetime.  

“I needed time to recover enough to walk before I could return.”  

Ha Joyoon, in an emotionless tone, briefly summarized the past few years and picked up his cup. The coffee had gone cold long ago, its aroma vanished. He simply wet his lips repeatedly.  

It was foolish.  

The sharp violin notes that grated on his nerves continued.  

“What are you saying? A shootout…?”  

The shock on Kang Taejung’s face was undeniable. The tense atmosphere made the person beside him look even more unsettled.  

His heart felt like it was breaking apart, cracks forming in the emptiness.  

Was it blood or tears trickling down his chest? He didn’t know. But his voice came out eerily calm.  

“It’s exactly what it sounds like. I must have been out of my mind back then. I don’t really remember much.”  

For a moment, all three of them stopped breathing.  

His already pale face looked even sharper under the lighting.  

Kang Taejung’s clenched fists on his lap tightened.  

Finally, after a long silence, words emerged.  

“…Are you okay?”  

“Not really.”  

He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t say that.  

Even with his brief answer, Tae-jung seemed unable to calm down. He blinked several times before pressing his palm against his forehead.  

A deep, endless sigh filled the air. His eyelashes trembled as if convulsing.  

“I thought you were dead.”  

“…….”  

“I thought you were dead. I searched for years, but all I got back was your camera….”

The tremor in his voice was raw and unfiltered. A short phrase, yet it contained every situation and emotion. It was understandable, so Ha Joyoon nodded without expression. That was all he did, but the man sitting across from him immediately looked uneasy, his gaze turning sharp. 

For a moment, he wondered if the man had a temper, despite his gentle appearance. Then, he laughed. It was a natural reaction—a defense mechanism to protect what was his. In this absurd situation, the only person showing any humanity was the unfamiliar man who anxiously held Kang Taejung’s hand. 

Still cradling the man’s hand in his own, Kang Taejung continued speaking.

“Even with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs involved, I couldn’t find any way to contact you. I felt helpless.”

Watching those long, firm fingers gently pat the back of another’s hand, Ha Joyoon closed his heavy eyelids. It felt like a sharp blade was scraping against his heart. He couldn’t believe what was unfolding before his eyes.

“The situation wasn’t good.”

“…I searched for you constantly, but every response I got was the same—there was no hope.”

“……”

“Everyone looked for you. Your mother, your father… and me.”

“I see.”

But in the end, you gave up on me. You buried me in your heart.

That cruel reality orbited his mind, relentless as the stars and the moon. He repeated it silently, over and over, before nodding. For a fleeting moment, concern flickered in Kang Taejung’s eyes as he looked at him. That faded sympathy was utterly miserable. 

The image of the two of them, hands tightly intertwined, burned coldly into his memory.

What had he been hoping for? His foolish expectations and hopes seemed laughable now. No one was obligated to carry someone else’s burden to the end. Wanting to laugh at the absurdity of his own selfishness, he chose not to let it show.

“What did your family say?”

“I haven’t gone home yet. I just called and came straight here as soon as I landed.”

“You…!”

Kang Taejung couldn’t hide his shock. Ha Joyoon, on the other hand, remained calm. It was obvious—he had thought only of Kang Taejung. 

He wanted to see him, apologize, and tell him he still loved him. That was all.

“What are you thinking? You should go back—”

“I came because I missed you too much.”

“……”

“But now, I regret it.”

His words were raw, unembellished. The sudden confession made Kang Taejung swallow dryly. He ran a hand over his tense face and, for the first time, looked away.

Ha Joyoon, his gaze stripped of emotion, looked at his former lover and the man beside him, who now wore an openly displeased expression.

“When did it start?”

His tone was somewhat dry, but ordinary. The next question, however, struck Kang Taejung with precision.

“Are you two dating?”

Tilting his head slightly, Ha Joyoon regarded them with a look of genuine curiosity. There was no blame, no reproach—just a devastating, pure innocence. 

As soon as the question fell, the grip on Kang Taejung’s hand tightened. Feeling the pressure against his palm, he pressed his lips together, already knowing what it meant.

“……”

In the silence that stretched endlessly, Kang Taejung stared at Ha Joyoon. His former lover, waiting for an answer, looked noticeably thinner than he remembered. Still breathtakingly beautiful, yet unable to fully conceal the traces of his past illness. 

How had he not noticed? 

Guilt surged within him, furrowing his brows in distress.

But too much had changed during the time Ha Joyoon was missing. He had buried countless memories, and new realities had taken over his life—responsibility, conscience, guilt. And the person clinging to his hand, trembling pitifully, was not someone he could ignore.

That was why, even knowing it would deeply wound Ha Joyoon, he had allowed Seo Youngwoo to be here.

Struggling to find the right words, Kang Taejung blinked slowly. His emotions were too tangled to easily define. But in the end, every decision, every consequence, had been his own.

No matter who had interfered or who had tried to sway him, the final choice had always been his.

“…Yes.”

His voice was firm, carrying weight. 

At that single-word answer, Ha Joyoon’s fingers slowly moved across the table’s surface. The grain of the wood blurred in his vision, and his lashes trembled.

Yes. 

The undeniable finality of Kang Taejung’s response echoed in his mind.

Yes. 

That was the only truth.

“……”

“……”

Amid the heavy silence, Ha Joyoon sat up from where he had been loosely leaning on the sofa. The clock already pointed to 9 PM. 

He gazed at the two people holding hands before turning his head away. 

There was so much he wanted to say, but right now, his mind was blank. More than anything, he no longer wanted them to see his foolish face.

“I understand.”

“Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“Joyoon—”

Instead of telling him to shut up, Ha Joyoon simply shrugged and picked up his bag. Coming here had been the stupidest decision he had made in a long time.

Kang Taejung looked as if he wanted to say more, but Ha Joyoon, with a faint, humorless smile, refused to meet his gaze. 

He could no longer bear the sight of Kang Taejung’s detached expression. 

From the moment he had opened his eyes, reality had been nothing but cruel.

“Let’s talk next time.”

Outside, darkness had already settled deep.

By the time this summer ended, the daylight hours would likely grow unbearably short.

Kang Taejung, hesitating as if struggling with himself, clenched and unclenched his fists several times. In the end, he only nodded.

“They’re both waiting for you. You should go.”

“…Yeah.”

A merciless farewell. 

His eyes stung.

Even though he had been the one to end this, Ha Joyoon couldn’t shake the wretchedness in his heart.

The person who had once been his most tender love had become someone he feared and no longer knew. 

Overwhelmed by the pain, he bit down hard on his trembling lips.

“…I’m sorry.”