“But I think it’s okay not to know. When have I ever liked something because I understood it? It’s like poetry, I guess.”

I remembered you saying you liked poetry.

That you loved it.

“To be honest, I don’t really get it. There are parts I think I understand, maybe—but do you have to understand something for it to have meaning? Do you have to understand it for it to matter? You can just like it, right? Liking something is my choice. Even if poetry doesn’t like me back.”

I remembered that too, how you said that just because someone wasn’t educated, it didn’t mean they couldn’t read poetry.
That just because you had no money, it didn’t mean you had to live only chasing things that made money.

But still—

“That’s not the same. I’m not.”

I looked at Lee Chun-hee.

“Poetry might not love you back. But I do.”

You taught me that even if you have nothing, you can still enjoy things.

You taught me that it was OK not to understand something.

You taught me that even if you couldn’t have something, you could still love it.

And that I was allowed to feel this way about you.

“That’s right. You’re not poetry. You’re Kim Yong-beom.”

You might be the only person who remembers me as myself.

And that’s enough.

“Kim Yong-beom, thank you. Thank you for feeding me better than any king would, for showing me what it’s like to live a real life, even if to others it looked like running away, for buying me clothes and for letting me live like a normal person. Like a person. And thank you for thanking me, too. I’m grateful for it all.”

I brushed back Lee Chun-hee’s hair, which had grown a little longer.

I lingered, tracing the softened curve of her cheek. Her eyes were fixed on me, her small lips trying not to tremble, and I traced the line of their jaw.

Lee Chun-hee lifted her hand and placed it over mine.

She smiled as though on the verge of tears.

But still, she didn’t ask me to stay.

She suddenly threw herself into my arms.

Hiding her face against my chest, she clung tightly to me.

When I asked her to look at me, she only pressed closer.

So I held her, gently stroking her backs.

After a long while, Lee Chun-hee lifted her head.

She was smiling.

Despite her red, stinging eyes, she looked at me and smiled.

I cupped her face and kissed her.

Then I kissed her again, softly and lingeringly, as if trying to remember every part of her.

I took her hands and feet in mine, which were always quick to grow cold, and her neck and shoulders, which carried the faint warmth of her skin. I felt the quiet rise and fall of their breath.

I held her close, memorizing it all.

I wanted to remember everything.

I wanted to remember how she clutched my shoulders so tightly, her breath catching and trembling, her bodies tensing and relaxing beyond her control, her hands searching for mine, her fingers intertwining.

I wanted to remember everything: the look in her eyes when she pulled me closer to kiss me; the sound of her saying my name; her uneven breathing; her warmth; her tears; her face stripped bare and vulnerable.

I wanted to remember it all.

I wanted to remember it all.

When I tried to pull away from her, she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and pulled me back in.

I held her again, her warm, damp body against mine.

When I pressed my lips to the back of her neck, she shook her head.

“Did you not like it?”

“No… I don’t.”

Her voice were still thick with tears.

I knew what she meant.

She didn’t hate it; she just didn’t want me to leave.

When I pulled back slightly to see her face, she pressed closer.

Her body was pressed tightly against mine.

I stroked her bare back over and over again.

Then I felt warm tears sliding down onto my neck.

I gently pulled her back and wiped her cheek.

“Chun-hee.”

“….”

She couldn’t answer.

She just cried.

So I left her where she was.

Through the small gap between her lips, my name slipped out.

Her voice trembled with stubbornness and pleading as she told me not to leave, not to stop, not like this.

It seemed the long night had not been enough to keep me here.

***

The rain that had been pouring all night finally stopped.

Spring, which had felt so imminent, still hadn’t arrived.

At dawn, we boarded a fishing boat and left the island.

The mainland wasn’t much different.

White and yellow buds clung tightly to the branches, still unopened.

“I wish the flowers had bloomed. When do you think they will?”

“Still a while, I think. Judging by the buds.”

The park was empty at that early hour, so we walked through it together.

I wanted to buy all the things you said you wanted from the food stalls by the harbor, but you didn’t look like you were in the mood for food.

Maybe it was guilt.

I remember blindfolding you, tying your wrists, and leaving you locked inside without even giving you water.

Now, just seeing you eat anything at all made me feel at ease.

Seeing you take big bites and watching your lips move as you chewed was reassuring.

I wanted to feed you something warm and proper.

Watching you eat well comforted me in ways I couldn’t explain.

“What do you think I am? Even I’d get sick if I ate at a time like this.”

“Alright. Then let’s just walk one more lap.”

We circled the small park once more before heading back to where we had started.

Just a little while longer.

I wanted to stay like this for a while.

So we held hands and kept walking.

Lee Chun-hee, who usually walked with such urgency, had slowed down.

Silently, I matched that pace.

I wished this last lap could go on forever.

But it ended, just the same.

As we walked towards the police station in the distance, a car suddenly shot out of an alley.

Misfortune always arrives with a foul premonition.

I prayed that this time would be different.

But no one listens to someone like me.

Through the car window, I caught a glimpse of a face:

One of the Mia faction.

“Don’t look back.”

I grabbed Lee Chun-hee and pulled them into the side alley.

Even though I knew it was a dead end, like entering an ant’s nest with no way out, I kept moving forward.

“F*ck.”

We’ve hit a dead end.

A dead end.

The cars that had been following us came in too, and there were more than one.

They lined up, completely blocking off the alley.

There was nowhere to turn around.

Nowhere to run.

I could feel Lee Chun-hee’s hand, still clasped in mine, trembling faintly.

Without saying a word, I could sense her fear.

The car didn’t slow down as it came towards us; it was aimed straight at me.

To kill or cripple me.

Neither was an option I could accept.

My sweaty hand tightened around Lee Chun-hee’s as one thought filled my mind: you.

How many could I take down?

Even if I had to kill them all, I had to protect you.

I had been on my way to confess to murder, but if anyone laid a hand on you, I would kill again without hesitation.

I lifted Lee Chun-hee, trying to push her over the wall.

“What about you? What are you going to do?”

“I’ll deal with them. You hide. Anywhere—just hide.”

“No. I won’t go.”

“Please, Chun-hee.”

This was the best I could do.

And it was pathetic.

Miserable.

I left the island so that you wouldn’t have to live in hiding because of me. Yet here I was, turning you into a fugitive once again.

Even so—

You had to live.

Only then could I go on living too.

As long as you were out there somewhere, still alive, I could cling to hope.

I couldn’t wipe your tears away.

I couldn’t hold you and comfort you.

All I could do was beg you to stay alive.

The moment I pushed Lee Chun-hee over the wall—the car hit me.

My body was thrown into the air.

My vision flooded with red, then faded to white.

***

I was hit by a splitting headache.

My whole body felt as though it had been crushed. Although nothing was broken, I couldn’t move — my hands and feet were tied up and held firmly in place.

I tried to open my eyes, but the pressure was unbearable — it felt as though they might burst.

The smell of blood filled the air.

Thick.

Rotten.

Overpowering.

“Kim Yong-beom… Yong-beom.”

It was a hallucination calling my name.

I have to find you, trembling alone somewhere.

I have to wipe your tears away.

My mind raced, desperate to run to him, but my body remained heavy and immobile.

Then, suddenly, ice-cold water was poured over my face.

It rushed into my nose, ears, and open mouth. As I choked and tried to spit it out, my body jerked.

And the forgotten pain came crashing back all at once.

“Kalpan. You bastard—can’t you wake up already?”

I feel a rough kick land on me.

I force my eyes open.

It’s one of the men I killed — his subordinate.

When I took the pimp’s place, he bowed his head to me, but I could see the sharpness in his eyes.

“You hid well, like a rat. Do you know how hard I had to run around to find you? F*cking bastard.’ I was going to kill you outright, but I held back. The boss said he had something to say.”

Spit.

He spat in my face.

I didn’t even think to wipe it away.

Instead, I looked around.

It felt like a dark warehouse.

Beyond the man who was blocking my view, a single dim orange light was just about illuminating the space.

“And we’ve got a gift to show you, too.”

When the bastard grinning like a devil stepped aside—I tried to leap up.

No—bound tightly to the chair, I could only fall and roll onto the floor.

“Lee Chun-hee! Chun-hee!”

I saw a small, blood-soaked face.

There was no response.

No matter how loudly I called, Lee Chun-hee didn’t move.

The small body was limp.

I screamed.

I screamed as if tearing my throat apart, asking why my voice wouldn’t reach her.