Though he thought the world would die by the end of this year, ridiculously, a new year arrived. Myung-hwon rubbed his dry eyes, heavy with fatigue.

It had been almost four months since Ju-eon disappeared. Every day became about enduring rather than living. Though alive, in a state that could hardly be called living, he lived each day just as he had when Ju-eon was here.

“Myung-hwon. Would it be okay to do the next job right away? Seems like you’re pushing yourself. It’s not urgent, so we can postpone it.”

“It’s fine.”

“I can take the lead, or you can support from behind, which do you prefer?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

He didn’t make mistakes like before either. Myung-hwon wrung himself out every day. Though others seemed to believe Myung-hwon was okay due to his perfect work performance like before, it was the complete opposite.

Inside, he was thoroughly festering and rotting. Myung-hwon endured by forcefully swallowing down his inner thoughts that felt ready to burst at the slightest touch. Though he vaguely recognized that he shouldn’t leave things like this, he ignored it. Dying comfortably would be a deception toward Ju-eon.

He denied it, raged against it, convinced himself there must be a reason he disappeared somewhere, but now he had no choice but to accept it.

“Haha.”

A dry laugh echoed in the house. Now all of Ju-eon’s scent had disappeared. Only empty air floated through the house.

That’s when it started. Being unable to sleep. No matter how strong the alcohol he drank, how many sleeping pills he took, deep sleep wouldn’t come. Empty bottles rolled on the floor.

While his outer appearance became more and more perfect than before, inside his home was falling apart more and more. Judging that Myung-hwon was okay being alone now, No-hun gave him an extended vacation.

Without the daily routine he had to forcibly maintain, his life completely collapsed. Various emotions – resentment and regret, anger and affection – tangled together, churning inside Myung-hwon.

Crash! Perhaps he gripped too hard in uncontrollable anger, the bottle in his hand shattered. If Ju-eon saw this, he’d leave thinking how pathetic. Though such thoughts briefly crossed his mind, he filled his glass with a self-mocking smile. How could I be okay when you’re not here.

Glass had pierced his hand. Myung-hwon blankly stared at his palm. Alcohol and blood mixed together as they dripped to the floor.

“Ah.”

The cut seemed deeper than expected as blood splattered across the floor. The thought that he should treat it briefly crossed his mind, but he absolutely couldn’t raise his body. Though knowing it was impossible, he desperately wished tomorrow wouldn’t come, just from this trivial wound.

I wished for my death. Unable to either swallow or spit out despair, I had to hold it in my mouth.

“Ju-eon.”

He hated himself for calling out to Ju-eon. But because there was no one else he could say such things to. But because now you weren’t here to listen. He could only mutter to himself.

It must have been the same for you too. When I looked for you, you couldn’t come, but when you looked for me, I didn’t go.

“Did it hurt like this for you too?”

Were you this miserable, barely able to breathe? When I heard at the hospital that you were sick, when you decided not to tell me, what were you feeling?

Now I can’t ask, I can only guess. Even that guessing was so painful it constricted my heart.

Myung-hwon laughed dryly.

“You’re here again.”

Perhaps because he wished so desperately, Ju-eon appeared like an illusion. Sometimes looking at him tenderly like before, other times staring as if resenting Myung-hwon.

“Say anything at all.”

Even when falling into shallow sleep briefly, he would often wake as if having a seizure. Opening his eyes in complete darkness, he would grope around feeling for the space beside him.

“I’m sorry. Ju-eon. What would make you forgive me?”

Just maybe, if you who were so tender might have returned out of pity for me. If you might not be an illusion but really you.

If it was Ju-eon, even pity would have been fine.

Perhaps his mind was gradually breaking down. After complete collapse, would paradise or hell await?

If you were there, anywhere would be paradise.

**

Rrrrr.

His head felt like it would split. Seems he had fallen asleep briefly.

“Ugh.”

Myung-hwon opened his eyes in the room where not a speck of light entered due to the blackout curtains. The phone rang loudly.

“Hello.”

-Myung-hwon. I know your vacation is until the day after tomorrow, but could you come in tomorrow? Something urgent came up…

At No-hun’s voice full of apology, Myung-hwon got up holding his forehead. As the blanket covering his body fell, it revealed a chest with perfectly defined muscles. As if injured again last night, there was a long red mark across his chest.

“Yes.”

-Really? That’s a relief. By the way, today Myung-hwon…

“I’ll hang up now.”

As his mind gradually awakened, Myung-hwon realized something was strange. Through the slightly open door came the smell of food.

This too was likely an illusion caused by his mental disorder. But like an irresistible gravity, Myung-hwon slowly opened the bedroom door.

Creeak.

There was a fragrant smell. Making his thought that his senses had dulled seem foolish, Myung-hwon followed the clear smell, scanning the house as he approached its source.

“Woo Ju-eon?”

There were no signs of anyone entering. But what he saw before him was a well-prepared meal.

He stared at the seaweed soup with steam rising as if proving it was freshly made. Myung-hwon took out his phone to check the date. His sense of flowing time was gone, so he only realized what day it was after checking his phone.

Ju-eon wasn’t particularly good at cooking. So Myung-hwon, who could do at least the basics with anything, usually took charge. Though they still ate out more often, that was how it was.

But there were days Ju-eon always made sure to prepare.

‘Since it’s a special person’s special day, I have to take care of it.’

Birthday.

Come to think of it, January was already racing toward its end. January 24th. A day he himself had forgotten. A day he had never thought special until meeting Ju-eon.

“…How could you abandon me.”

His heart that he thought dead suddenly regained its color. Thump. Thump. His heart beat rapidly. Just in case, he reached out to touch the rice bowl. Warmth was felt in his palm. It wasn’t an illusion. It was real.

“Ju-eon.”

No answer came. Even sharpening his senses, he couldn’t feel any presence in the house. Had he failed to notice Ju-eon coming in because he was drunk?

If he had left, it couldn’t have been long ago. Myung-hwon ran straight to the front door.

Bang. When he opened the door, snow was falling heavily. Despite the heavy snowfall that made it hard to see right in front of him, Myung-hwon ran out anyway.

“Ju-eon!”

Myung-hwon called Ju-eon’s name as if screaming. No answer came back.

Whooosh-

The snowstorm chilled his skin. Still, Myung-hwon couldn’t easily return home. Thinking Ju-eon might be waiting, he wandered the snowy field for a long time searching for Ju-eon who had left no tracks.

“I’m sorry.”

Myung-hwon apologized repeatedly to the empty air. Was he still angry and not showing his face? Passersby glanced at Myung-hwon walking around in just a wrinkled shirt in the extreme cold.

Only after wandering until he lost feeling in his hands and feet did Myung-hwon think Ju-eon might have returned home.

Returning home, he felt his muscles that had stiffened from the cold. Myung-hwon searched the house without concern. From the utility room to the terrace. But there was no trace of Ju-eon anywhere. The food was still on the table, now cold, as if proving it wasn’t an illusion.

Only then did he notice the doll on the table, left exactly where Ju-eon had placed it. It was the bear-shaped doll Seo Yun-jin had given to Ju-eon as a farewell gift.

‘It’s an item with preservation function. You can set a password too. And schedule settings.’

He recalled Yun-jin’s explanation to Ju-eon.

“Ah.”

Myung-hwon let out a small breath.

Ju-eon hadn’t returned. He had only left one last gift. Myung-hwon collapsed into a chair, covering his face with his hands.

The gift Yun-jin had given Ju-eon had been used for Myung-hwon instead. The brief glimpse of hope that Ju-eon might have returned only served to confirm where he stood, plunging Myung-hwon into an even deeper abyss.

Then suddenly he noticed a small box at the edge of the table. A small box of dark blue velvet. Myung-hwon slowly reached out and picked up the box. Underneath was a small note.

Click.

Before checking the note, Myung-hwon opened the box first. Inside was a ring. At the unexpected item, Myung-hwon checked the note. The familiar, neat handwriting spoke not of his news but about the ring.

-You have to put the ring on me yourself.

Myung-hwon slowly examined what was on the ring. It was a simple ring.

Ju-eon had deliberately put the ring in the item instead of sending it by mail or just leaving it. Though it was a very short sentence, Myung-hwon read the note dozens, hundreds of times to properly digest its meaning.

Perhaps it was very simple. He said he was sick with the disease. He would have known his own condition best. Yet he left his ring with a note saying it had to be put on directly.