Chapter 9: A Distant Place

He spent time at a café, just passing the hours with a drink.

When he checked the clock, it was a little past 6.

He had deliberately stayed somewhere close to the meeting place, so there was no need to rush, yet his hands became strangely busy.

It felt wrong to meet Kwon Se-ha without thinking anything through.

As he hurriedly gathered his bag, he dropped his phone from the table.

A passerby, more startled than Hae-su, quickly picked it up.

As he reached out to return it, his other hand was still moving, gently brushing the edges of the phone with his sleeve as if dust might be on it.

“It’s really okay. Thank you for picking it up.”

“Ah, yes. The sound was louder than I expected, so I just… I’m sorry.”

“No, thank you.”

The other person’s gaze insisted he take it.

Only after exchanging a few words did Hae-su properly notice his face.

Round, gentle-looking eyes.

Completely different from Hae-su’s slightly upturned ones.

The hands that carefully dusted the phone looked smooth and soft even at a glance.

Without meaning to, Hae-su’s eyes lingered, noticing a ring on the fourth finger of his left hand.

Realizing he was observing too much, he quickly looked away.

“Then I’ll be going.”

“Yes. Take care.”

Once his attention faded, the conversation with a stranger became as if it had never happened.

Hae-su tidied up and left the café.

Then he began walking, almost running.

To go to Kwon Se-ha.

“Do you have a reservation?”

“At 7… it should be under the name Kwon Se-ha.”

“Yes, I’ve confirmed it. It seems your party hasn’t arrived yet. Would you like to wait in the lounge?”

“Ah, yes.”

He had arrived thirty minutes early, so of course Se-ha wasn’t there yet.

Guided by the staff, he entered the waiting room.

There weren’t many people, and even the staff moved calmly, giving the place an overall quiet atmosphere.

He sat down on a soft chair.

He tapped his hands without rhythm, occasionally tracing the texture of the sofa with his nails.

Cold air seemed to pierce through him at times.

He couldn’t tell if it was because of the weather, or the tension of waiting for Se-ha.

He was used to passing time doing nothing.

It wouldn’t matter if Se-ha was late, but he also hoped he wouldn’t be too late.

He wanted to see him.

His tightly set lips twitched at the sound of footsteps approaching the waiting room.

They moved faintly, as if hoping it would be the person he was waiting for.

He lifted his head.

“The reservation was for 7.”

A pair of polished men’s shoes entered his view.

It was Kwon Se-ha.

Se-ha’s eyes widened slightly when he saw him.

He hadn’t expected Hae-su to arrive even earlier than himself.

“…I just ended up coming early. Did it cause any inconvenience?”

“No. It just makes me uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine.”

“Let’s go. To eat.”

Soon, that broad back turned away from him.

Hae-su wanted to walk closer, but gave up.

The dining room was as suffocatingly quiet as expected.

It didn’t suit Se-ha at all, making Hae-su quickly scan the interior.

Hae-su sat down, and Se-ha ordered as if it were natural.

Watching him, Hae-su briefly felt like he had come here simply to share a meal.

“It’s been a while.”

“Yes. You’ve been well, right?”

Se-ha’s gaze paused at the question.

Not for long.

The pale face, almost sickly at a glance, became more unsettling the longer one looked.

“Of course.”

As if the question itself were absurd, Se-ha answered plainly.

Hae-su smiled faintly.

Relief and bitterness settled together inside him.

At least there was nothing to worry about.

“I had something to say to you.”

Before the food even arrived, Se-ha brought up the main point.

As if that was the only reason he came.

It made it clear how different their reasons for being here were.

Before his emotions could spiral, Hae-su spoke first.

“Let’s… eat first.”

“……”

“Let’s talk after eating. I’m a bit hungry today.”

His calm, quiet tone froze the atmosphere.

Since receiving Se-ha’s message, hunger had been gnawing at him.

Until that emptiness was filled, it felt like he wouldn’t be able to hear anything.

It was a kind of defense.

Se-ha seemed about to speak, but eventually nodded.

Silence fell.

Only the sound of dishes being placed between them remained.

Once he picked up his chopsticks, he didn’t stop.

Though he didn’t eat much, Hae-su tried his best to taste and chew.

Seeing him stuff food in without interest, Se-ha finally spoke.

“You’ll get indigestion.”

“……”

“So eat slowly. We’ll talk after you’re done.”

In the end, Se-ha stepped back.

As if he understood what might be going through that small, sorrowful head.

Yet Hae-su didn’t look happy.

He looked like he might cry at any moment.

The food lingered in his mouth, no longer chewable.

He thought—

this would surely make him sick.

His jaw moved as if grinding sand.

When Hae-su finally stopped eating, Se-ha called to end the meal.

A staff member entered, and Se-ha ordered plum tea and cold water.

Soon, a small warm ceramic cup was placed before Hae-su.

The plum tea was for him.

“Seeing you eat like that—it’s not unpleasant.”

“……”

“Drink the tea too. I don’t want to send you off with indigestion.”

Did it really look like he was eating well?

Was it a joke?

Or something Se-ha could say only because he didn’t know anything?

For Hae-su, this meal had been nothing but agony.

Before long, the staff left, and the two were alone again.

“Choi Hae-su.”

Even though it wasn’t loud, Se-ha’s voice sounded unusually clear to him.

As if all his hearing focused on it.

His body shrank instinctively.

“You probably won’t have any reason to see me again.

Whether you come to the wedding or not—that’s up to you.”

A wave crashed over a sandcastle he had carefully built.

Only traces remained.

He had built it without noticing the passing time.

For the fool who forgot the tide, nothing remained.

Only silence.

Only breathing.

Kwon Se-ha was saying goodbye to all the days ahead.

A cruel farewell—never to meet again.

The voice wasn’t harsh.

But it wasn’t kind either.

It lingered in Hae-su’s left ear.

As if he didn’t want to hear it.

As if he refused to understand it.

He shut his eyes tightly.

He didn’t want to accept those words anymore.

But Se-ha showed no sign of noticing his confusion.

“I hope you’ve been well.”

“……”

“I mean it, so don’t ignore it.”

His mind went blank.

No words came to him.

Understanding alone felt difficult.

Maybe… he was sleepy.

Every day, he stayed awake until dawn and slept when others were active.

Whenever he felt like doing nothing, he would fall asleep.

“…Kwon Se-ha.”

“The moment I saw you, I thought you looked terrible.

It feels like you’re trying to show how badly you’ve been doing. I don’t like it.”

He tried to sound calm, but his voice cracked and trembled.

It even sounded desperate.

His uneven breathing clung to the air.

He gasped, then started coughing uncontrollably.

“Choi Hae-su!”

“Cough—ugh, cough.”

Se-ha stood up in alarm.

Hae-su instinctively grabbed the cup to stop coughing.

The plum tea burned as it went down his throat.

Sour, hot, painful.

Se-ha’s unintended kindness only made it worse.

He told him not to get sick,

yet gave him something that hurt him more.

Se-ha’s eyes sharpened at Hae-su’s sudden state.

It might be better if that large hand just grabbed his throat,

and told him to disappear right now.

If he could feel such clear rejection,

then fear would come first next time.

He would avoid him, hide from him, reject him first…

“Are you alright?”

The face that didn’t even realize it had just torn someone apart—

that was what made it so cruel.