Chương 14: S.04 Memory of the Clock 03(04)

Scene 14. The nausea was impossible to hold back. All Ye-eun could do, staggering from the drugs, was retch and empty herself. Early morning, standing in the narrow alley behind the upscale hotel, one arm braced against the wall to keep herself upright, Ye-eun heaved violently, barely holding her trembling body together. Not a single tear fell. She felt no sorrow, no pity for herself. It was what had to be done, so she did it. It was the path she had chosen, so she walked it.

After a long bout of retching, Ye-eun pulled a tissue from her pocket and wiped her mouth with a shaking hand. A biting morning wind cut through her short hemline and torn black stockings, but there was no time to feel cold. The cooling sweat should have brought a chill, but Ye-eun still seemed to struggle just to steady her swimming vision. She shifted her high heels to take a step forward, then buckled, about to collapse from near-total exhaustion. A rough, unfamiliar hand caught her by the elbow and held her up.

Yu-seok: You're going to die first at this rate. You. The voice was gruff and blunt, but the concern was genuine. Hee-jin, recognizing the voice, wrestled her blurred vision into focus and, with Yu-seok's support, lowered herself onto the edge of a nearby planter box choked with dead winter grass. Hee-jin: You could've at least patted my back. Heartless. A drained laugh accompanied the rebuke.

Yu-seok listened in silence, then rummaged through his pocket and handed Hee-jin a cold bottle of sparkling water with a flat expression. He had already uncapped it. Hee-jin took it with trembling hands and managed a mouthful. She drained it in one tilt—cold enough to sting. Not enough to steady her vision, but more than enough to rinse the foul taste from her mouth. Hee-jin spat the water carelessly behind the planter, then drank again. Yu-seok stood beside her, watching without a word.

After the thirst finally subsided, Hee-jin exhaled a long sigh and said what she had come to say. Hee-jin: I got word. Yu-seok: What kind. Hee-jin: The 안내자 (Annae-ja_Guide). Seems like she's made her move. Looks like a decent number's been gathered. Yu-seok nodded in silence. Hee-jin glanced sideways at his clumsy, earnest reticence, then twitched the corner of her mouth. Hee-jin: Did you come because you were worried about me? Yu-seok: It's not all gathered yet, but this seems fast.

Yu-seok sidestepped the question with a deflected observation. Hee-jin curled her lip faintly and straightened her back a little more. She let out the rest of her sigh and took another sip. Her vision was settling, bit by bit. She held the sparkling water up to a sliver of light. Tiny black granules floated inside. Having noticed Yu-seok's help, Hee-jin smiled, sheepish, and drank again. Hee-jin: Including myself, even The Oldest — she said she wants the suffering to end now.

That's why I think she chose to entrust the matter of the vehicle to you, Oppa. Yu-seok listened without a word. Hee-jin: Today was really rough. God — Lee Si-yeon. She really must have had it hard. Yu-seok: Which Lee Si-yeon. Hee-jin: The original Lee Si-yeon. Well, 단장 (Dan-jang_The Oldest) must be having a hard time too, obviously. But the one I'm talking about is the real Lee Si-yeon. Yu-seok could not speak to that.

He settled himself on the edge beside Hee-jin, pulled a cigarette from his pocket, placed it between his lips, and offered one to her. Hee-jin eyed the pack in his hand, plucked a protruding cigarette, and placed it between her own lips. Wind funneled through the narrow alley. Both long cigarettes caught flame, and the white smoke they exhaled scattered instantly on the wind. Yu-seok: Did we save her, or did we ruin her. Hee-jin: Feeling sorry you killed her?

Or are you thinking it's a mercy she escaped, even if it was through death? Yu-seok: I don't know anymore. Not at this point. Hee-jin: Whether being alive is agony, whether being dead is happiness — we can't know that. But Lee Si-yeon was grateful. And because she was grateful, she felt sorry. Yu-seok: Which one? The memory of Si-yeon's voice from a narrow alley in the busy district not long ago surfaced briefly in Hee-jin's mind.

Hee-jin: She said if she had lived well, then I and The Oldest wouldn't have had to go through all this — she was the one apologizing. And that also means she's content with how things are now. That's why she feels sorry. Because making someone live through that hell, even for a moment, when they're finally living — that must be what's hard to bear. Her voice didn't sound like someone who thinks the life she's living now is hell. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere.

Support the author by seeking out the original. Only after hearing Hee-jin's words could Yu-seok set down, even briefly, the weight he had kept buried on one side. He nodded, exhaling a long trail of smoke. Hee-jin: I've decided not to grieve over it. What I did was a wretched thing, and because I did it, Lee Si-yeon died first. It defied the natural order, what was set in place. But — The cigarette between Hee-jin's lips had grown short.

She drew the last of the smoke, dropped the butt to the ground, and crushed it under her shoe. Her vision, strained and unsteady until now, seemed to have righted itself. Hee-jin rose to her feet, unburdened. Hee-jin: At the end of it all... Her murmured words, like a thought spoken aloud, were swallowed by the biting wind and lost. Yu-seok barely caught them. Hee-jin tucked her shortened bob behind one ear and smiled lightly. Hee-jin: Kang Ji-young — The Oldest — you won't be able to touch her, Oppa.

I will be the one who guards her. And I will be the one who tramples everything in the way. Scene 15. Early morning. A blinding light followed the dawn. Si-yeon pushed through the open front door, stumbled into her living room, and collapsed face-first. Seong-hyeon, who had propped up the thoroughly drunk Si-yeon the whole way, struggled to haul her onto the sofa and then dropped herself down beside it. Seong-hyeon: Ah-ni, why'd you chug like that today without a word. Chug is even generous.

A brief grumble, but Si-yeon was in no state to respond. Lying on the sofa, Si-yeon was weeping in silence. Seong-hyeon had never seen Si-yeon like this, but she could not bring herself to console her. She picked up the box of tissues from the head of the sofa and set it by Si-yeon's side. Si-yeon: SSibal, seriously. I don't understand a single thing. Not one. Seong-hyeon said nothing to Si-yeon's sobbing. Si-yeon was not drunk. She had downed enough to lose control of her body, but her mind was perfectly intact.

Seong-hyeon sat beside her, watching the tears fall in silence. Seong-hyeon: Did you have a rough client today or something? Si-yeon wept with a raw grief but could not voice what tormented her. She only shook her head, letting the pooled tears roll sideways. Seong-hyeon could not find it in herself to offer easy comfort. Nothing she could say would be adequate. After a single question, she simply watched. Si-yeon began to steady her breathing—deliberately slowing it, forcing down the tangled mess of thoughts.

She pushed aside every suppressed emotion, every doubt and suspicion, and managed, in a hoarse voice, to tell Seong-hyeon she was all right. Si-yeon: Go on. It's late. Seong-hyeon: Other way around. It's too early. The sun's blinding me and I was just about to pass out. Now this sis has lost all sense of time too. At Seong-hyeon's familiar needling, Si-yeon forced a smile through swollen eyes. A light laugh broke loose, and Si-yeon hauled her prone body upright, slowly. Si-yeon: Then eat before you go.

My stomach's empty — nothing but booze. I'm starving. Seong-hyeon: Jin-ju got you some reflux meds, right? Take those first, then we'll go out. If you're going out. Si-yeon: I'm ordering in. Look at my eyes. I'm not going anywhere looking like this. Bawled my eyes out, all swollen to shit. Seong-hyeon: At least you know it's ugly. Si-yeon gave Seong-hyeon's backside a half-hearted kick from the sofa.

She fished out the reflux medication from under the sofa, grabbed a nearby water bottle, and chugged it down in noisy gulps. Seong-hyeon: Sis. Mid-chug, Si-yeon responded with only a sideways glance downward, her body still seated. Seong-hyeon, deep in thought, ventured a careful question. Seong-hyeon: Do you remember, by any chance, how you got hurt? Si-yeon set the plastic bottle down and shook her head. Si-yeon: No. Seong-hyeon:... Okay. The expression said there was much more to say.

Seong-hyeon had been at Si-yeon's side for years—Si-yeon could read her easily. But she did not know what to ask first. She went with the first question that surfaced. Si-yeon: Why do you ask? Seong-hyeon: No reason. Just wondering if you remembered anything. Because that's where we'd start. Si-yeon: If starting from there got me all the answers, you think I'd have bawled my SSibal eyes out after getting a full bow yesterday?

Seong-hyeon's eyes betrayed a flash of alarm at Si-yeon's offhand remark, though she fought to conceal it. Seong-hyeon: A bow? Si-yeon: Some perfectly sane guy walked in, bowed to me, and left. Said he'd kill me someday. Seong-hyeon's pupils could not hold still. Si-yeon: But it wasn't scary. I wasn't crying because I was scared. It was just — vaguely, everything felt like shit, and hollow, and like I'm the only person alive who's been lied to.

Every fragment that Seong-hyeon had never been able to confirm snapped into place inside her head, all at once. Si-yeon: You wanna know what I said, standing in front of the guy who told me he'd kill me? Seong-hyeon, staring blankly, could not answer. She parted her lips to try—and in that moment, 검은 물(Geomeun-mul_Black Water) began to ripple through the dead-bolted front door. Seong-hyeon turned her head slowly toward the deep terror now taking shape at the entrance.

Si-yeon followed Seong-hyeon's gaze and saw the Black Water pouring into the living room; she scrambled upright from the sofa. Si-yeon: Hey — What the — Si-yeon stuttered, recoiling, unable to finish. Seong-hyeon, taut with tension, spoke to Si-yeon in a low voice. Seong-hyeon: Sis, run. Seong-hyeon flicked her hands and scattered white paper in every direction. Si-yeon's startled eyes snapped to Seong-hyeon. In that same instant, a razor-sharp tendril lashed out of the rippling Black Water and lunged for Si-yeon.

Seong-hyeon whipped the white paper around and deflected the charging black tendril. In the same motion, she smashed the living room window to pieces with her white paper. Si-yeon stood frozen, unable to move one way or the other, while a familiar shape began to emerge from the black terror. Su-jeong: You're not going anywhere. The Si-yeon of this moment had no way of recognizing Su-jeong. She faltered, paralyzed, as Seong-hyeon stepped in front of her and held her ground against Su-jeong.

Seong-hyeon: Then I'll kill you now. Su-jeong: I've already dead and come back. As you can see. Black tendrils surged from around Su-jeong's body. Countless streams crashed down, trying to snare both Seong-hyeon and Si-yeon. The scattered white paper alone could not block every tendril Su-jeong unleashed. The paper tore apart in an instant, and the black tendrils reached just in front of Seong-hyeon's eyes—when a blade-cold flash of silver, a deep black gust, cut across her vision.

A single streak of light that had poured in through the shattered living room window sliced clean through every tendril aimed at Seong-hyeon and Si-yeon, spraying Black Water in all directions. At the intruder's arrival, Seong-hyeon lost her words entirely. Si-yeon: Take sis and get out. Now. The woman who had burst through the broken window stood with her back to the frozen Si-yeon and to Seong-hyeon who had been trying to shield her. After hearing the voice, Seong-hyeon did not hesitate long.

She grabbed the terrified Si-yeon beside her and sprinted for the shattered window. Su-jeong, Black Water tendrils fanned out in every direction, regarded the figure blocking her path—wearing the same vacant expression she had held throughout. Su-jeong: I'm tired of this. By now. At Su-jeong's hollow remark, Si-yeon—the one who had crashed in through the window—grinned tauntingly and leveled the blade in her hand at Su-jeong. Si-yeon: Hey.

The one who's more tired is you, with your head up your own ass every other day. Scene 16. There was no time to put on shoes. Si-yeon and Seong-hyeon broke into a barefoot run across the freezing asphalt. Despite the cold, the two had no choice but to keep sprinting. Ahead, in the middle of the path they were running toward, a single tall figure stood planted. Seong-hyeon did not hesitate. She pulled Si-yeon behind her with a light tug and spun her body, scattering white paper in every direction.

Opaque, pale 한지(hanji) whipped through the air. The sheets that flew toward the standing figure soaked through with 검은 물(Geomeun-mul_Black Water) rising from the ground, then dropped lifelessly to the pavement. Seong-hyeon shaped fresh paper and readied a strike she had not yet refined—and then a massive gunshot rang out. Si-yeon flinched mid-stride and tumbled to the ground. Seong-hyeon abandoned the strike, threw a wall of white paper around herself and the bleeding Si-yeon, and crouched over her.

The source of the bullet was unknown, so she had shaped the paper into a rounded dome, enclosing them both. She tried to tend to Si-yeon's wound inside the temporary shelter. A single point on the white paper dome darkened, bleeding Black Water inward. The presence that had closed to point-blank range spoke through the barrier to Seong-hyeon inside. Jeong-hyeon: That was mine to begin with. Wasn't it? Baek Seong-hyeon.