Chương 21: S.04 Memory of the Clock 04(06)

Scene 18_01. Black Water fell from the ceiling. From a ceiling that had held nothing at all, a Black Water path burst as though spilled, and Si-yeon was swept limp to the floor. A dull impact was felt, but Si-yeon could not do anything; she stayed as she had fallen, and only slowly began to strain to raise her body, hitching her arms inward as though trying to bend them. A presence watching that sight was felt.

Si-yeon briefly halted the body she had been trying to raise, and with effort turned to look back at the foot of the familiar presence that had shown through her hair — drenched in Black Water. Another Si-yeon, in a form identical to her own, only stared at the real Si-yeon, fallen from the Black Water, as if she could not possibly believe it. Ji-young, who had come in unsteadily, approached to prop up the fallen Si-yeon.

The fallen Si-yeon, spent to the point of exhaustion, watched for a moment as the fumbling hand reached for her. Ji-young did not hesitate for long. To ask, to clear away her deep doubt, she had to help the fallen Si-yeon. She did not refuse Ji-young's approaching hand. Si-yeon's eyes, face-down, opened wide, and she tried in a rush to push Ji-young away. She tried to deliver her voice.

But Jeong-hyeon, who had closed in from behind before anyone knew it, wearing a smirking expression, was already driving a hand-sickle through Ji-young's chest. A bursting agony and pain filled Ji-young's head. Scene??. What am I. Who am I. What was I. What was I doing. What am I wishing for. Is there anything I can do. The things I think and the things I see — were they truly me. Am I a what, or a who. I am your shadow. I am your mirror. I am your thought. I am your I. I am your eyes. I am your face.

I am your feet. I am your hands. I am your legs. I am your brain. I am your darkness. I am your slave. I am your tongue. I am your sis. I am your time. I am your cancer. I am your master. I am your affliction. I am your I. I am your I. I am your I. I am your I. I am your I. I am your I. I am your I. I am your I. I am your I. I am your I. You are my I. You are my I. You are my I. You are my I. You are my I. You are my I. You are my I. You are my I. You are my I. You are my I. I am. You are. Scene 18_02.

She could not prop up the fallen Ji-young. Si-yeon, wringing out what strength she had, roused her 은장도(Eunjangdo_Traditional Silver Ornamental Dagger) and gripped it, and tried to prop up Ji-young, who was spouting blood from her chest as she collapsed. Jeong-hyeon, at such a Si-yeon, severed Si-yeon's eye with another hand-sickle as though splitting it in one sweep. After that, she saw nothing, and she heard nothing. Scene 19. It was home. Deep in the night.

Through the large window blocked by a drawn curtain, streetlamp light seeped in dimly. All she could see through eyes she had forced open was the dim air set in the dim space. A familiar scent should have been there, but as though her five senses had crumbled, she could feel no sense properly except touch. Only warped senses and feelings, warped thoughts and headache, sat there. She had the feeling she had heard someone's voice.

In the short clothes she wore, blood seemed dabbed here and there; an unpleasant prickling and a limp, sodden stickiness was felt on her whole body. Especially her wrists and ankles were the most prickling. The ropes binding her, as though something had gone wrong, were oppressing Ji-young painfully. She could not see anything. She could not be able to.

As, within the faintly dim darkness, her vision adjusted to the sights past her field of view, right before her a form she did not wish to believe was stirring, coming to. At the form drawn before herself, at the heavy moan it was letting out, she — who had barely gathered her awareness — resolved to call this a dream she was having. And then a form and a voice she was not unfamiliar with were looking at herself in stillness. If it was not a dream, she resolved to believe there was a large mirror set before her.

But all of that hope and expectation was crumbling limp, undone by a familiar voice. Si-yeon: Sis —? Ji-young: What. What? She was flustered. She moved to try to get out of there in a rush, but her body, fastened to the chair, did not move as she wished. Each time she struggled and resisted, pain came from the places that felt like wounds. With the look of one who truly did not know who she was, she put every effort into breaking away from the person before her who had called her "sis."

Watching such a self, the presence sighed and, in a tone similar to her own, began to scold her. Having realized that Ji-young was sound, the presence let out a small sigh of relief and spoke, pressing Ji-young, who was still thrashing. Si-yeon: Aigo! Come on! Stay still. At Si-yeon's scolding, Ji-young, flinching in her trembling body, no longer tried to break away, but, carrying only dread, looked at Si-yeon, who sat there in a form identical to her own. Si-yeon: Ah. SSibal. Honestly.

The parasite, every time help is needed, is always tucked away somewhere. While Si-yeon's curse-laced grumble burst out, Ji-young, seated before her, was working to still her trembling body. She shut her eyes and tried to take it that all of this was false and a dream and a thing that would pass. As Si-yeon, who had been rustling, seemed to receive the Ritual Taboo Rope for the first time and, at the limp nothing-was-felt, chose to let her body be for now.

Having long released the strength she had thrashed with, letting out a light breath, Si-yeon tried to soothe Ji-young, seated before her, with a heavy voice. Si-yeon: Sis. Are your injuries all right? Si-yeon's earnestness could be felt. She knew it. The intent of the Si-yeon seated before her was, without a doubt, one of genuine concern for herself. But she did not want to accept. There was too much she did not know to just blindly take.

At Ji-young's silence, Si-yeon drew a look of regret and, saying nothing, examined Ji-young herself directly. The wound that had been at Ji-young's chest, fortunately, seemed to have closed. A bright blood-smear was clearly drawn along it, but the Ji-young seated before her did not seem to feel pain. Si-yeon's two eyes, too, which had been cut open as if they would burst, had quickly grown whole again.

Si-yeon thought it was only a matter of fortune that her having expended all her strength and fainted had been everything. Si-yeon stirred both feet — bound to the chair legs — slightly, enough to knock against the Black Water filled just enough to lap the floor. Her two ankles too, bound in Ritual Taboo Rope, would not move at her will. Si-yeon's intent to forcibly get free soon faded. From the skin she had moved, a rubbed sensation was felt. Si-yeon: Aigo!! SSibal. Seriously. There's no time.

Si-yeon wore the look of someone straining to find something — anything. She flicked her eyes around swiftly. Against the dim stream of light, she confirmed the bread-knife on the sofa. It was a leftover trace of Ji-young and Hee-jin eating bread with Jin-ju, not long ago. Si-yeon caught her breath as though steadying it, then began to jounce her whole body, chair and all. Si-yeon, shifting her body again with whatever she could to somehow get free, pressed the still-seated Ji-young. Si-yeon: Ai SSibal honestly!!

Ya!! Kang Ji-young!! Help me out!! Come on!! At Si-yeon's shout Ji-young flinched, and looked at the sofa Si-yeon seemed to be heading toward. Having confirmed Si-yeon's intent, Ji-young, like Si-yeon, began to jounce her chair too. Ji-young was a little closer than Si-yeon. They thrashed about for a while, but the chair could hardly get any closer to the sofa. It was Si-yeon who gave up first. Leaving the body she had strained to move as it was, she tried to pause for breath.

Ji-young too, at the chair that oddly did not come nearer, halted the body she had been jouncing about and, belatedly, checked the chair. It felt as though a thin Black Water, risen just to the height of the sole of a shoe, were holding the chair in place. The chair, submerged in Black Water, could not move an inch. Having given up, the two sat still and breathed. As they did, Si-yeon looked at Ji-young and asked, as though tossing it out. Si-yeon: Really. You don't remember anything?

Ji-young: What — Si-yeon: Like who sis is. That sort of thing. This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Ji-young: I. I am Lee Si-yeon, and — Si-yeon: Sis. Si-yeon's voice was, to the point of goose-flesh, the same as her own. At that voice calling her with a heavy tone, Ji-young paused mid-word. Si-yeon: You'll remember soon. But sis — you are not me. Ji-young: Then, who am I. Si-yeon: Sis, you were a truly fucking incredible person. Someone I truly envy.

At Si-yeon's sincere voice, Ji-young, with a blank gaze, asked back with effort. Ji-young: Me. Why. Si-yeon: Right now sis is in that state against sis's will, but sis is absolutely not that kind of person. The sis right now is neither me nor sis. Ji-young: Then what am I. Si-yeon: I told you, a fucking incredible person. Our fucking incredible sis. Kang Ji-young. Ji-young: Kang Ji-young. Si-yeon: Yes. Kang Ji-young. At Si-yeon's steady voice and coaxing, Ji-young tried to look at herself.

That she had been living with something lost, that much was sure. Where, then, had it begun to be lost — what was she now — she wanted to know. Ji-young was straining to measure herself. Si-yeon: Sis, you were a truly cool person. To the point that it's a blessing for a SSibal girl like me that sis looks and sounds just like me — you were really, really, cool. And so I was fucking jealous. Sis, you and I don't share a drop of blood, yet you rolled up your sleeves and ran to help me — got hurt and fell in my place.

Yes, even earlier — sis, even just now, you moved first, on reflex, to help me, didn't you. That is how, always, you protected me and So-hui and Yeon-hui sis and everyone. Ji-young: So-hui? Si-yeon: Yes. Jo So-hui. Your other little sister. Ji-young: Then I — Si-yeon: If you recover the bracelet you used to wear, sis, you'll come to your senses. But in this state, you'll die before you can get it back — so listen to me carefully. Ji-young: Speak. Go on.

Si-yeon: Sis, right now for almost a month — sis has been living my life. Because you had to. Whatever path sis walked, the only path was the one where they dragged you off. Ji-young: Who are they. Si-yeon: Sis's own flunkies you have to kill. Truly vile SSibal bitches who keep trying to kill sis to the very end. So, to keep sis alive, sis took on only a part of my memory, and the severed bit of my time? or something like that, sis stitched it together for me in between. Ji-young pondered something deeply.

As though the odd sense she had been carrying was beginning to hold some measure of validity, Ji-young asked Si-yeon. Ji-young: Then. What did I do with my life, originally? Si-yeon: Something like corporate accounting, trade, whatever — they say. I'm a SSibal empty-skull, so I don't know those things in detail. Anyway, sis, you did that, and helped our mother out. The memory did not come. At the word abruptly tossed out, Ji-young looked at Si-yeon with a blank expression. It did not rise. It could not rise.

Only a vague feeling was coming over. And that feeling, regardless of Ji-young's own will, made the heavy tears of Ji-young — who had carried on her own silence as she listened to Si-yeon — drop after a long while. Ji-young's dazed voice spilled out heavily. Ji-young: Mo — ther. Si-yeon: Yes. Sis was cool, but that person was much, much cooler and better. To save us all, that person had no choice in what she chose. Ji-young: Then, that person.

Si-yeon: The SSibal bitches who turned us into this were the ones who killed her. Si-yeon's brief explanation held every bit of what it needed to. Ji-young looked at Si-yeon and asked. A careful question. Ji-young: I. I am. Then. What kind. Of child. Was I. To that person. Si-yeon: Fucking the most similar and fucking the best daughter there was. The rest, once you get out of here safely, sis, you find it. First — before that. Let's think about getting out. Ji-young: How do I find me. Si-yeon: I told you.

Once you get back what's yours. Ji-young: What's mine is what. Where is. Ji-young's words could not reach their end. The front door was flung open. As someone stepped in and flicked on the living-room lamp, the two — eyes adjusted to the darkness — flinched at the glare and crumpled their brows. In the bright light Ji-young belatedly looked at Si-yeon properly and felt every emotion at once. It was truly the same person. Beyond the vague expectation held in darkness, they were identical.

Si-yeon too, facing Ji-young again after a long while, looked at her for a moment and then turned her face toward the presence walking up behind. A woman she was seeing for the first time. Jeong-hyeon, who had walked up behind Si-yeon, leaned against Si-yeon's shoulder as if propping herself, and whispered as though taunting. Jeong-hyeon: Taking my arm and my head off — felt good? Si-yeon: Ha. This SSibal. Seriously.

With her body still resting with a hand propped on Si-yeon's shoulder, Jeong-hyeon looked over at Ji-young, who sat across, at a loss for what to do. Jeong-hyeon: We've got both the Harbinger and the Envoy in our hands. The old one tried so hard to hide it. Can't help it. In the world of the living, people come first. As it always was. Si-yeon: Shut up you bitch. Jeong-hyeon: Oh my. Such a filthy mouth. Then again. The body too — Si-yeon: I said shut up!!

Jeong-hyeon: No, but — the old one, what was she thinking, taking even the likes of you into her house? That one, well, she was a person with some merit to begin with, so fair enough, but the mirror ought to be the opposite, no? Si-yeon: Yeah. I'm a SSibal gutter-girl who was rolled around the streets, all right? But I don't rifle through the pockets of someone who raised me and held me. Watching Si-yeon jeer back, Jeong-hyeon patted Si-yeon's shoulder as though comforting her, flicking her fingertips at it.

Jeong-hyeon: Already heard it all, I see? From the Guide. She really suffered. Begging like a dog. I got a nice look at it. Si-yeon: Yes. Right. Go on. You bitch. I'm not going to kill you cleanly. Taking Si-yeon's jeer as nothing, Jeong-hyeon whispered again at Si-yeon's ear. Jeong-hyeon: Scared, aren't you? The way you're yapping. Si-yeon: No. I'm not scared. Because I've lived with SSibal bitches far more vile than you lot. You all are truly noth — aaaah!!

Jeong-hyeon wrenched Si-yeon's finger and twisted it until it snapped. She severed the twisted finger with the hand-sickle she held, and flung it to the floor. Jeong-hyeon: Is that where they cut off your fingers and pulled your nails like this? Can't have been much left of you. Right? At Jeong-hyeon's jeer, Si-yeon's brief scream faded, and only a tremor of swallowing the pain and a rough breath remained. The finger of Si-yeon that had fallen to the floor burst and turned into Black Water.

Under the strength suppressed by the Ritual Taboo Rope, Si-yeon's severed finger had not yet returned. With the look of refusing to accept the present situation, Ji-young strained to pull her body back. At that, Jeong-hyeon — now noticing Ji-young — stepped forward with composed steps and took the place behind Ji-young. Ashen-faced Ji-young, unable to speak, only drew breath in gasps. Jeong-hyeon: Oh my. Our new The Oldest. Were you going to lead us with such a lowly appearance?

Ji-young: I, I am, not that, sort of — Jeong-hyeon: Ah, right. The mirror ended up looking like that, so you must too. She forced Ji-young's hand into her grip and, as she had with Si-yeon, severed Ji-young's finger. At the pain she was feeling for the first time, Ji-young writhed and twisted her whole body. A wailing scream. She wanted to pour out a plea for anyone, anyone at all, to help. Jeong-hyeon severed Ji-young's finger and flung it to the floor. Ji-young's blood fell upon the Black Water.

Ji-young's finger, fallen to the floor, faded away into Black Water like Si-yeon's had. Jeong-hyeon: I did not think you'd be a person with this much fear. No — I see. The one with the fear would be you. The whore. Right now wearing her skin. Ji-young, in a state of not even being able to bear the pain, was trembling. As though bored by it, Jeong-hyeon straightened her back, then bent close behind Ji-young as if embracing her, and with the sickle in hand cut Ji-young to shreds. Si-yeon: Stop it!! You SSibal bitch!!

It was revolting. That Ji-young was being toyed with by the likes of her — Si-yeon found unbearable. Si-yeon pressed her to stop as a scold, but Ji-young, feeling cruel pain, could not even scream and only let her head drop limp. Jeong-hyeon rose slowly and came back around behind Si-yeon. Jeong-hyeon's hand, and the blade in her hand, were thickly soaked with Ji-young's blood. Jeong-hyeon: Don't rustle around being a nuisance. Get some sleep. Like that one. We're going to have a nice, cozy time with the Guide.

Jeong-hyeon sneered at Si-yeon, who carried dread and hatred. Jeong-hyeon pushed through the Black Water with her foot as though rousing something, and lightly tapped the floor with her toe. As Si-yeon was checking Ji-young's state, Jeong-hyeon slowly drew the sickle in her hand and began to carve at Si-yeon's chest. As the death-tainted sickle bit in, a ghastly pain was felt. Si-yeon thrashed to break from Jeong-hyeon's grip, but with the Ritual Taboo Rope wound around her, there was nothing Si-yeon could do.

Then the blade began to pierce through and into Si-yeon's chest. As Si-yeon began to feel a ghastly pain and twisted her body, from beneath the Black Water revolting grasping hands that had begun to surface climbed up Si-yeon's legs, blocking her resistance. Leaving the blade embedded in Si-yeon's chest, Jeong-hyeon slowly rose from her crouched posture and turned toward the front door. Before going out, Jeong-hyeon flicked off the lights and held a light sneer.

The vision that had adjusted to the lamp turned pitch-black again as before. In the unlit room, Si-yeon thrashed her body in a rush. A ghastly death climbed up Si-yeon's own body, suppressed beneath the Ritual Taboo Rope. The Envoy was not summoned to the Ritual Taboo Rope either. A black death climbed up as though encroaching, but she was not afraid. Rather than fear, worry came first. Scene 20. So-hui was bleeding onto the living-room floor, slumped limp.

From the skin punctured by needles, not a drop of blood flowed, only great pain was being delivered to So-hui. She could not even loosen the body bound to the chair. From her mouth, not even a groan came out. With her body left seated in the chair, So-hui sat in the middle of the living room listening only, in silence, to Ju-hee's voice. Ju-hee: Really, to be honest, if it were up to me. I'd like to blow your head off too, like mine. But they told me not to.

Said how could I, after getting hold of a Guide at long last. Wouldn't let me do it at any cost — so, bit of a drag. Ju-hee drew out a sneer and slowly pressed the needle lodged in So-hui's temple in further. So-hui let out a ripping scream. The pain crowded in more fiercely as time passed, as the needle sat deeper. The blood flowing from So-hui's shoulder and the sweat flowing from her skin — whole and unwounded — mingled and streamed. She did not have the strength even to answer Ju-hee's taunts.

As though it were a pain she could no longer feel, she showed only a flinch at the needle tip pressing in, and So-hui — only swallowing a tearing scream — twitched like a broken doll. Ju-hee: Isn't it infuriating? That the Guide was right there, and to the very end deceived us. While holding all of us as if equally. Your mother, to the very end, was loftier than us. So, talk. Where did you hide Kang Ji-young?

At Ju-hee's provocation, So-hui at last slowly lifted the head she had bowed and, with eyes holding hatred, set her gaze on Ju-hee. So-hui's voice — having swallowed such pale-to-the-gills pain — was hoarse to an utter rasp from the countless screams she had let out. So-hui: Our mother. Was a person. Ju-hee: What? So-hui: A person who would take in even the likes of you, a beas — Ju-hee: Ah. We were simply unworthy, were we?

Ju-hee, with a jeering sneer, drove the needle — which had been pressing into So-hui's head — right in with force. So-hui could not in the end scream. It was pain crowded in to the point of losing consciousness. By now she was in a state where she could not even speak. Ju-hee gripped So-hui's hair in her other hand. So-hui ground her back teeth together, straining not to become some pitiful thing that did nothing but scream.

So-hui gently closed her eyes and clenched her back teeth harder, without letting out a scream to the very end. Ju-hee: Now. So where is she. Kang Ji-young. Jeong-hyeon: She walked right up on her own. Opening the front door and stepping inside, Jeong-hyeon, in an indifferent voice, answered Ju-hee's question in So-hui's stead. Ju-hee tossed So-hui's hair down and belatedly straightened her back, then glared at Jeong-hyeon, who had come in. Ju-hee hurled a sneer edged with madness at Jeong-hyeon.

Ju-hee: Became a bitch who died before a day was out, didn't you? Jeong-hyeon: What an idiot bitch.