Chapter 2: Back Before the End

Lee Do-kyung left the ancestral grave site and drove not home but to a reservoir.

He had no plan or intention, yet he found himself heading there naturally.

It was the only thought that managed to pierce his numb, turbid mind, so he acted on it immediately.

Passing through a dense forest path, the view opened up to reveal the deep green surface of the water.

Leaving all four windows wide open, he stared dryly at the sky meeting the reservoir.

Would Seon Woo-min be there now?

A hollow laugh escaped him.

In the stillness, he glanced over at the passenger seat where Woo-min always sat.

The person who should be occupying that spot was gone.

At the same moment, it felt as if his own future had been severed, like a railroad track abruptly ending.

Lee Do-kyung slowly pressed the accelerator.

The car began to tilt forward from the front, sinking beneath the water’s surface.

From there, it happened in an instant.

Water rushed in from all sides, crushing the vehicle and pressing against his body.

His open mouth, his eyes, nose, ears—all were blocked with a muffled numbness.

He didn’t know what he was doing.

He didn’t want to know.

He only kept his foot stubbornly on the accelerator, pressing down with his leather shoe.

Just as deep darkness began to consume his vision, there was an image of Seon Woo-min spreading out like a watercolor painting.

Moments so ordinary and everyday that they ached with longing.

The touch of hands carefully covering him with a blanket as he slept in the living room, Woo-min mouthing ‘Sleep more’ when he opened his eyes.

He wanted to grab that wrist and pull him into his arms.

He wanted to press his lips to his hair that smelled of shampoo.

He wanted to trace his skin, feel his body heat.

I want to hold you.

I want to touch you.

If only I could start over with you from the beginning…

Lee Do-kyung clutched the steering wheel, agonizing over the breath rising to his throat with nowhere to go.

Air bubbles burst violently from the corner of his mouth.

The sensation of being pulled into a hole darker than the abyss gradually dimmed his consciousness.

“Hello.”

Huh?

“May I take your order?”

…What is this, a dream?

Lee Do-kyung roughly rubbed his eyelids.

The hazy human form, like ink spreading, began to grow clear.

Woo-min?

……

He blinked for a long time.

Wondering what he was looking at.

Wondering what on earth was going on.

“Uh, sir?”

Seon Woo-min was speaking to him.

The mole at the tip of his nose, his brown eyes.

He wore a somewhat formal smile, but the person standing before him was unmistakably Seon Woo-min.

What?

How is this possible?

Narrowing his eyes, Lee Do-kyung looked around.

A woman carrying a tray of drinks, a couple sitting by the window, sunlight filtering through wooden blinds, and an interior with several dark brown tables.

It was a café with a large aquarium at the center.

And he was standing at the order counter.

Lee Do-kyung’s lips moved as if he’d lost speech, then he looked at Woo-min again.

His unwavering, piercing gaze made Seon Woo-min flustered.

“Sir, I’m sorry, but…”

“Woo…min…”

Woo-min’s eyes widened.

Just as Lee Do-kyung’s hand reached toward Seon Woo-min’s cheek, Hwang Un-jae swatted it away and scratched his own head in annoyance.

“Aish!

Your order’s obvious anyway, why are you taking so long?

You’re just going to get juice.”

…What’s he doing here?

Huh?

That’s Hwang Un-jae, isn’t it?

“Sorry about that.

One mango juice and one iced americano, please.”

Having placed the order, Hwang Un-jae grabbed Lee Do-kyung’s arm.

With his head still turned toward Woo-min, Do-kyung was dragged along without understanding what was happening and sat across from Un-jae at a table.

He couldn’t grasp what was going on, what was happening.

“This is no time for you to be joking around.”

Hwang Un-jae pulled out a tablet and opened the calendar.

As the tip of the stylus tapped insistently on September 23rd, Lee Do-kyung frowned.

It was pointing at a date two months earlier, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Our deadline was the 30th, but they asked to move it up a whole week.

They just do whatever they want.

Which means you have to work during Chuseok too.”

“What?

What deadline?

Chuseok…?

Why?”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.”

Lee Do-kyung was actually asking about the date.

The day Seon Woo-min died was his birthday, November 7th.

Since the funeral had already concluded, today should be at least three days after that.

Yet suddenly Chuseok was being mentioned.

“Right now… isn’t it November?”

On top of that, Lee Do-kyung had no idea what Hwang Un-jae was talking about—or rather, why Un-jae was sitting in front of him talking about deadlines like some schedule manager, and why Seon Woo-min was standing at an unfamiliar café taking orders.

“November?

What are you talking about?

That Kkaebi Studio thing?”

“What Kkaebi?

You came to the funeral hall and attended the whole ceremony.

That was November—”

“Ha… what funeral.

What’s this nonsense you’re spouting?”

“……”

“Alright, let’s hear it.

Who died?”

“……”

He tried to answer “Seon Woo-min,” but a pain like a sharp skewer gouging deep into his heart left him unable to utter a word.

To say ‘Seon Woo-min died.’

Even though it had actually happened, putting it into words sent a chill through his very core.

“Hey.

Did you have some kind of dream?

Must have been a pretty realistic one.”

With a light scolding, Hwang Un-jae went to the counter as his phone vibrated.

Lee Do-kyung took Un-jae’s tablet and checked the calendar date.

After staring at it for what felt like an eternity, he pressed his palm to his forehead.

A dry chuckle escaped him, his shoulders shaking.

Taking a deep breath, he looked at the screen again, but the numbers hadn’t changed.

So, this was a day in September, two years before the year Seon Woo-min died.

“What the hell… what kind of bullshit, impossible situation is this?”

Lee Do-kyung closed his eyes, focusing, trying to wake from the dream.

Wake up.

This is a dream.

It must be a dream.

It’s an unconscious fantasy I’ve created because I can’t let go of Woo-min.

Just pull yourself together.

“Yeah.

I wish this was a dream too.”

Hwang Un-jae set down the tray and replied as Lee Do-kyung looked at the calendar in disbelief, shook his head, pressed his hands together as if in prayer, closed his eyes, then cracked them open again.

Do-kyung removed the straw and downed the mango juice in one go.

The sweet, cold liquid slid down his throat.

The sensation was terrifyingly vivid.

Nothing that could be dismissed as a dream.

Immediately, a sharp, electric pain throbbed at his temples, and he clutched them with both hands.

The faint chill of the air conditioner brushing his skin was also eerily clear.

Can you feel sensations like this in a dream?

If I recognize it as a dream, why can’t I wake up?

Ah.

Since Seon Woo-min is here, maybe it’s better not to wake up.

“…You lunatic.

Enough of this.

Let’s face reality.”

“Hey.

First, pinch me.”

“Oh, for f*ck’s sake.

Fine.”

Hwang Un-jae enthusiastically pinched and twisted Lee Do-kyung’s arm, where a fashion tattoo was inked.

Letting out a yelp, Do-kyung glared as if he was crazy, but Un-jae didn’t even snort.

The guy was naturally mischievous and expressive anyway, so Do-kyung just let it slide.

“…I’m losing my mind.”

Lee Do-kyung went from running his fingers through his hair to outright pulling it.

The tension on his scalp was strong enough to bring tears to his eyes.

He slapped his own cheeks, muttered to himself to come back, but Hwang Un-jae ignored him and pulled out a laptop.

Do-kyung’s gaze, vacant as if his soul had left, suddenly turned toward the counter.

Seon Woo-min, attending to a customer.

Woo-min… what are you doing over there?

Seon Woo-min’s hair was black, like the day they first met.

Not the light brown from their last days.

Other than that, he was unmistakably Woo-min.

“Hey, Hwang Un-dog.

So here’s what happened.

I drove my car into a reservoir.”

Lee Do-kyung explained earnestly how his body had been strapped into the seatbelt, sinking with the car, unable to breathe, his consciousness fading.

Hwang Un-jae listened with a deadly serious expression.

“So, skipping all the cause and effect, even if I give you a hundred concessions and say I miraculously survived, I should be lying in a hospital room right now.

Huh?

Even being generous, today should at least be November 11th.

And that’s two years later.”

“That was a long speech, but basically you’re so excited for Pepero Day that you nearly died?”

“…That’s not what I meant, you idiot.”

“Look at this instead, you idiot.”

With a meaningful expression, Hwang Un-jae rolled up his sleeves and picked up the stylus.

Thinking they might finally be on the same page, Lee Do-kyung leaned forward.

Hwang Un-jae’s stylus drew a car on the memo pad.

Wavy lines indicated a reservoir.

“I feel like doing exactly what you said.

Putting you in a car and dumping it in the reservoir.

Like this.”

An arrow drawn next to the car plunged into the waves.

Having hoped Un-jae might say something helpful, Lee Do-kyung shot him a furious glare.

“……”

“What’re you glaring at?

Stop talking nonsense and let’s work.

Huh?

We’re running out of time.”

“Hey, is this the afterlife?

Here?”

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