Chương 5: S.04 Memory of the Clock 02(01)

Scene 00. On the ridge of Girae Village, the weathervane that had been dying down without regard for anyone or anything. Will my wings be torn away by your wind, your day-wind? Will I, afraid of the beating of wings, cast away the flower seeds I held close? On the drifting trail of the weathervane, your flower seeds scatter wild. Upon the scattered flower seeds, an early spring drifts. Upon the drifting flower seeds, a late winter flows to water.

Deep in the mountain where green leaves have not yet fallen, do the flower seeds scatter first? Upon the unthawed creek, does the sheet of ice shatter over the calm river? Tell me, let me know — when does your cocoon soften? Let me know, pass it on — our spring has only just begun. Scene 01. Si-yeon, finished with all her work, was walking home.

Just as she was about to enter the worn apartment building, she came face to face for the first time with a woman who appeared to live on the floor above — someone around her own age. The woman stood still, visibly flustered, simply staring at her. It was an unfamiliar gaze. Through that unfamiliar gaze, an emotion Si-yeon had never encountered before reached her, whole and unfiltered. Si-yeon broke the stare first, letting out a short sigh. Si-yeon: What.

Si-yeon, having let slip a small gripe, tried to pass the woman. The woman stepped into her path again. Assuming their steps had simply overlapped, Si-yeon moved to change course, and then — So-hui: I'm sorry. Si-yeon heard the woman from upstairs speak, and tucked away the grumbling look on her face. The makeup was a shade heavy, but the woman's eyes were remarkably clear. Those deep, clear eyes held words she wanted to say — more than could fit in one breath.

Whether those words were meant for Si-yeon, she could not tell, but at the very least, Si-yeon could easily sense that the voice just now and the apology it carried had nothing to do with blocking her way. Si-yeon: For what. She grumbled, but there was no real irritation. To Si-yeon's curt reply, So-hui could not answer. She stared at Si-yeon with a blank expression for a moment, then shook her head. She turned toward the direction she had been heading and walked away quickly.

Si-yeon glanced briefly at So-hui as she passed and vanished just as fast — then, hit by a delayed wave of exhaustion, resumed her own steps toward the shabby front door that would be shut tight around her apartment. A short walk down the corridor brought her to the worn front door, now reasonably familiar. She unlocked it with her key and stepped into the dark living room. The moment Si-yeon crossed the threshold, the motion-sensor light in the entryway flicked on.

She wobbled out of her high-heeled boots, leaving them askew, and shuffled inside. The first day she had come to this place surfaced in her mind. For reasons she could not name, that small memo pad still clung to the inside of her wallet. She had decided not to lose it. The taste of those braised short ribs still lingered. She dropped her tired body onto the sofa like a collapse, rested an arm across her forehead, and turned something over in her mind.

The sensor light in the entryway clicked off, and the living room sank into dim half-dark. The single streetlamp outside did what little it could to brighten the room. It was not bright enough to keep her from sleeping. She wanted to keep thinking. She simply did not know what to think about. She cursed her own stupidity. The evening's grueling client work had left her thighs aching. After a stretch of time that was not long, Si-yeon bolted upright and headed for the entryway.

Instead of the high-heeled boots she had kicked off, she jammed her feet into a pair of low sneakers and dashed outside. She ran for a long time. The redevelopment zone had nothing but a single road left. She was certain — if she ran along the road, she could catch up and ask. Cutting through the predawn dark of deep night, Si-yeon ran and ran until she spotted the woman she had encountered. She pushed harder. The rubber soles of Si-yeon's sneakers squeaked against the ground.

So-hui turned at the urgent sound of footsteps. Seeing Si-yeon sprinting toward her, So-hui could not hide her startled expression. Only after Si-yeon closed the distance to So-hui's side did she barely manage to catch her breath. Si-yeon: Hey. Despite the fierce cold, sweat beaded on Si-yeon's forehead. So-hui watched Si-yeon panting in silence, then slipped her hands into the pockets of her thick padded jacket. One pocket — the hand inside it fidgeted conspicuously.

From the opposite pocket, So-hui pulled out a handkerchief, neatly and thinly folded, and offered it to Si-yeon without a word. Si-yeon took it and wiped the sweat off carelessly. Si-yeon: Hey. So-hui: What. Even at Si-yeon's blunt call, So-hui did not flinch. There was no sign of displeasure. If anything, her eyes carried the same look from before — heavy with unspoken things. Si-yeon: You. Have you eaten? So-hui could not say a word. She did not know what to say.

Trying to pull her blank mind together, she bit down hard on her full lips. She did not answer. She only shook her head. Si-yeon: There's this insanely shabby hangover-soup joint around here. Wanna go? So-hui could not bring herself to give the answer that was rising inside her. As if pressing for a reply, Si-yeon — still unable to steady her heaving breath — pushed in a jagged voice. Si-yeon: You said you haven't eaten. Food. I can't sleep if I don't eat breakfast.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. So-hui: I have plans. Si-yeon looked So-hui up and down, let out a small sigh, and tucked the handkerchief So-hui had given her into her pocket. Si-yeon: Ah. Sorry. Go ahead. Forget I said anything. Si-yeon turned her back and tossed her voice over her shoulder. Si-yeon: I'll wash the handkerchief and bring it back. I know where you live. So-hui quickened her pace and closed the distance. She called Si-yeon to a stop.

So-hui: No. So-hui stepped into Si-yeon's path again and pressed her. So-hui: Give it back. The handkerchief. It's fine. Si-yeon: I came straight from work without even washing, and I wiped my sweat with it. I said I'd wash it and give it back?? So-hui shook her head. Si-yeon, wearing a flat expression, pulled the handkerchief from her pocket and handed it back. So-hui's eyes fell briefly on the back of Si-yeon's blunt hand, then she snatched the handkerchief and left.

On any other day, Si-yeon would have been annoyed — but this time, only a short mutter trailed behind. Si-yeon began to walk back the way she had run, slow and unhurried. Scene 02_01. Hee-jin was whispering. A whisper so faint no one else could have heard a thing. At the end of it, the woman who had received the Strategist's words shed thick tears, her face drained white as though terror had seized her whole.

Hee-jin lifted one of the tears clinging to the woman's cheek onto the back of her own hand, then carefully drew it to her lips. It was a secluded alley where winter wind ripped through without mercy. The entertainment district(Bunhwaga) nearby still blazed with light even in the dim small hours creeping toward early morning. The foot traffic had thinned, but the lights remained garish and the cold remained vicious.

In that alley — dead silent, the polar opposite of the bright street — Hee-jin delivered one final whisper to the weeping woman. The woman wiped her tears with a hollow stare and drifted away. Her gait was sullen, impossible to reconcile with someone who had just heard Hee-jin's words. She walked without a shred of interest in whether Hee-jin was still standing there — indifferent steps that carried her out of the dim alley.

After the 후보자(Hubo-ja_Candidate) vanished, another presence eased out from beneath a streetlamp. Hee-jin lowered herself into a careful bow. The person who received that bow was none other than Si-yeon. Hee-jin: I did not expect you to come in person. Thank you, truly, to the very end. Si-yeon shook her head. Si-yeon: No. Hee-jin: With this, everything is finished. Even the strongest desires, the deepest obsessions — all of them have been gathered in. Thanks to you, it concluded without incident. Thank you.

Si-yeon: The last Candidate as well — you took care of it? Hee-jin nodded. Hee-jin: In truth, when I first began gathering the Candidates' desires myself, this was the very first craving I took. That day, I found the 단장 (Dan-jang_The Oldest) collapsed in an empty military base. That was when I took it. Si-yeon nodded at the Strategist's explanation. She had a mountain of questions but no idea where to begin. She hurried out the first words that surfaced. Si-yeon: Is she doing well?

Hee-jin: A person who has lost her sense of self cannot possibly be doing well. Si-yeon: Fair enough. Hee-jin: All I can do is attend to her, so that nothing worse comes to pass. At the Strategist's even-toned voice, Si-yeon's own voice dipped lower, almost murmuring. Si-yeon: And you, sis — are you doing all right? Hee-jin paused. She looked inward for a moment, glanced down at her own clothes as if reminding herself, then spoke again, delayed. Hee-jin: This is the path I chose. I feel neither regret nor hardship.

Every anguish I carried, I once poured out to the former The Oldest — the elder to us all. I no longer do that. Nor should I. Si-yeon said nothing, folding her arms and leaning her weight against a streetlamp pole. Si-yeon: I hope it won't be long. So-hui is struggling, and so am I. But really, it's Ji-young sis and you who must have it the hardest. And the sooner you two come back, Yeon-hui sis can also.... Hee-jin nodded as if echoing Si-yeon's sentiment.

Hee-jin: Right now, the only thing left inside Su-jeong's head is hatred toward the two The Oldests. In truth, I could restore The Oldest to her rightful place at any time — but there is a risk that she would be ravaged by reckless 주술 (Jusul_Sorcery). The moment The Oldest recovers her sense of self, Su-jeong's Sorcery aimed at The Oldest Kang Ji-young could tear her apart. Of course, Kwon Su-jeong is hardly a formidable woman, and her Sorcery is hardly exceptional.

If you set your mind to it, Si-yeon, you could rip Kwon Su-jeong in half right now. A small sigh escaped Si-yeon like a puff of breath. She glanced down at her own feet, then stole a look at the tall stilettos Hee-jin wore and the coarse fishnet stockings that could not even block the bitter wind. Hee-jin: But if we did that, every last rat would scurry into hiding. We must give them the illusion and the opening to believe things are going their way. Only then will they gather. Only then can they swarm.

They are such worthless women — all they do is watch each other's faces, too busy posturing to act — but once a crack shows, they will swarm without fail and bare those pathetic little fangs. However, to buy that time, I had no choice but to use your existence — as The Oldest's 거울 (Mirror) — to conceal her. To shield The Oldest and hide her away, as someone who remembers nothing.

Though Hee-jin was mostly hidden beneath a long padded coat, only her ankles barely showing, Si-yeon knew better than anyone what state Hee-jin was in and how she was living. After a beat of silence, Si-yeon let another sigh trail out and spoke. Si-yeon: I couldn't help the woman who called me her daughter. It was So-hui's persuasion, So-hui's resolve — but I let her go too stunned to do a thing. Without a single proper preparation.

And when I had to send Yeon-hui sis away the same way, I thought I'd truly lose my mind. Si-yeon's measured voice held deep regret. Si-yeon: That's why I can't lose Ji-young sis too. I can't become Kang Ji-young. Ji-young sis can't become me, either. She told me to live as myself. Mom did. Hee-jin listened in silence to Si-yeon's self-reproach and nodded. Si-yeon: I know how terrible that place is. There are good people there, sure — but the terrible things far outnumber them.

Hee-jin: Being there, I have heard and come to realize how great a person you were, Si-yeon. At the Strategist's careful praise, Si-yeon lifted her gaze from her own feet and glanced sidelong at Hee-jin. The corner of Si-yeon's mouth twitched toward her. Not a sneer. An awkward smile. Hee-jin: That when people couldn't get their pay, you would march in and even douse the place with gasoline, threatening to set it all on fire — Si-yeon let out a slightly louder laugh at the Strategist's bashful commendation.

Si-yeon: Ah, that.... Hee-jin: The Oldest does not possess all of your memories. But the two of you — truly alike in so many ways, while being truly different in so many others. Si-yeon shook her head in sheepish denial, slowly dropped her gaze again, and looked down at her feet. Si-yeon: If I hadn't been there... could Ji-young sis and you have lived a little more at peace? Hee-jin: Hard to say. Si-yeon: You're staying there to look after Ji-young sis, and I know it can't be easy. I just... suddenly felt sorry.

Hee-jin smiled wordlessly and shook her head. She understood Si-yeon's guilt. Under her coat — not her usual hanbok(Korean Traditional garments) but a short outfit barely covered — she stood still. She tried to relieve Si-yeon of that guilt. The slow shaking of her head paused. Hee-jin smiled a little wider and delivered her remaining words. Hee-jin: In truth, 단 (Dan_The Covenant) and that place are quite similar. I learned that by living it.

The difference lies in what you comfort — the dead or the living; whether it is wretched or merely difficult. Of course, I am not saying it is manageable. To claim it is not hard would be a lie. But it had to be done, and I chose to do it, so I do. It is my choice. I admit I have caused The Oldest discomfort in the process, but she accepted it.

In fact, she said that while she rested within the former The Oldest's care, the reason she could be at ease with herself at all was because you — The Oldest's Mirror — had shouldered all of her karma first. She spoke as though the brief time she now endures is nothing worth mentioning. Si-yeon: Ji-young sis is exactly the kind of person who'd say something like that and mean it. At Si-yeon's deflating response, Hee-jin let herself smile a little more freely.

After the light smile faded from her lips, the Strategist clasped both hands together, bowed her head with care, and spoke with formality. Hee-jin: So please, wait just a little longer. The moment they bare their fangs, I will restore everything to its rightful place.