If Silk Flowers Bloom by the Water’s Edge Chapter 43

As long as humans existed, chaos and disorder in the world were inevitable. Each person’s desires, each person’s circumstances… all of them tangled together like overgrown vines to open the prelude to misfortune. Only the victor earns the right to speak of dreams, and the loser lives forever subordinate to that dream. Isn’t it absurd, a world where everyone laments their own lost romance, yet readily scorns the romance of others?

However, for Yirok, there was just one person, one woman, he could not treat as absurd. Not long after grabbing the string Chaehwa had handed him, Yirok opened his eyes in the dark abyss. He was abandoned in the same space as yesterday when he had fainted.

The only difference, however, was the existence of the string in his hand. A thin, long thing, shining as if cut from the waist of the Milky Way, was in his hand. He did nothing but stand and stare at the object. It was then that the string trembled as if blown by the wind. Dots of light that had been wandering all over gathered to form the shape of a hand. The string, which had been drooping on one side, slowly rose. Soon, the light began to take the form of a person. Chaehwa, holding the other end of the string, her silk skirt was as bright as a candle flame.

Into the pitch-black world, a vivid woman entered, like a photograph whose developer hadn’t yet dried. When their eyes met, she would even avert her gaze as if she were alive. Into his abyss, where he could feel no cold, heat, taste, or scent, Chaehwa’s breath seeped in. It was a satisfaction that not only filled him physically but also satisfied his spirit.

“Ahem… Yirok, you can’t let go of the string. If you do, I’ll be kicked out immediately. Got it?”

Though he knew he had to answer, Yirok’s throat was tight. When he managed to nod, Chaehwa’s smile brightened. Facing a person whose lips were always tinged with a smile made his head spin.

“Now, let’s take a look around.”

Yirok followed Chaehwa’s careful lead. No matter how far they walked, there was only darkness, but Chaehwa looked around distractedly, like a country mouse dropped into the city.

“It’s really wide.”

Even though Yirok, having nothing to say, kept his mouth shut, Chaehwa’s assessment did not end. Feeling like she was just chattering on, swept up by the atmosphere, Yirok stopped walking. The string pulled taut, tying Chaehwa’s steps together with his.

“Let’s stop.”

“Why?”

“There’s nothing here.”

“If we go further….”

“There’s nothing.”

There was nothing to explain about the structure of an abyss obscured by a Japkwi. All there was was a darkness so profound it would sap the energy from anyone walking through it. Chaehwa approached with an understanding expression and stood before him.

“Okay. For today, let’s learn how to get out safely. Someone can’t always be there to wake you up.”

“…How do I do it?”

“We’re going to let go of the string at the same time when I say one, two, three… You have to be relaxed, like you’re waking up from sleep. Understood? While thinking in your head that you want to get out of this place.”

At Chaehwa’s words to think about wanting to leave, Yirok realized something for the first time. He had never once thought of wanting to leave by his own will.

Chaehwa raised her fingers to count. Yirok took a short breath, taking in the sight of her three fingers folding down.

“One, two, three.”

The moment he let go of the string, Yirok felt a strong desire to leave. He might not have known if he’d always been one. But he hated the hollow feeling of being reduced from two to one.

“Yirok.”

His vision went dark for a moment. A bright light that could be felt even through his closed eyelids woke Yirok. He opened his eyes, feeling the illusion of being embraced by the candle’s flame. The first thing that came into view was Chaehwa’s sparkling face, smiling with her chin propped on her hand.

“See? The effect of the special lesson is amazing, isn’t it?”

The two of them were almost pressed against each other with the candle between them. Realizing the proximity, Yirok reflexively pulled his body back. But his red earlobes, no different in color from the candlelight, were soon discovered by Chaehwa.

Yeonrye, who could have interrupted the silent moment, had not yet arrived. However, Yirok felt as if his lips would burn to a crisp if he stayed in her space all day and night.

“…Is this it?”

“Yup, for today, let’s just count it as our first practice getting out of the abyss.”

Just as he was hastily gathering his books to leave like a refugee fleeing, Chaehwa grabbed his wrist. Startled, Yirok dropped the hand that was picking up a book to the ground.

“Why didn’t you reply.”

“…What?”

“The cellphone, the cellphone. Do you know how expensive that thing is? It’s an even better phone than mine. I sent you so many texts.”

Yirok realized he couldn’t end this situation just by averting his gaze. The wrist that Chaehwa held, as if hesitating, felt itchy, as if he were breaking out in hives. But he didn’t feel good about choosing the option of heartlessly shaking her off.

Yirok thought of himself as a truly hopeless bastard who had sold his conscience. He could make the excuse that it was unintentional, but it was tantamount to offering Chaehwa’s pen to Sarira. While living as a spy, he was receiving all the help he could get. He wasn’t kind or gentle as Chaehwa wished him to be. Yet to such a rotten guy, Chaehwa always offered her company.

Furthermore, thanks to Chaehwa, he had even learned how to get out of the abyss. He didn’t want to hurt Chaehwa’s feelings, at least not during the special lesson time. That was all. This was a situation where Chaehwa was shouldering the loss all by herself. He decided to play along, thinking of it as paying the price.

“It’s not that I ignored them… I don’t know how to send a reply. This is the first time I’ve ever had a cellphone.”

Yirok had lost his parents and was dragged to Chukjangji when he was in the third grade of elementary school. His parents had said they would buy him a cellphone when he was in the sixth grade. They were strict about TV, entertainment, and games, so he didn’t even know how to use a cellphone. Besides, what Yirok had seen, even if only from the corner of his eye, were flip phones, and what was currently in his hand was a phone that was only a screen. He could read texts, but it was unclear how he was supposed to send a reply.

Even if he had known how, he had nothing to say. Then he forgot to charge it, and the phone died. He had no time or leisure to charge it again. He had to attend classes, the special lessons with Chaehwa were decided, and he had to do his training separately. Despite not making such pathetic excuses, Chaehwa nodded as if she understood. Because of that, it was Yirok who was left speechless.

“So that means you didn’t ignore my texts? Huh?”

Unable to look at Chaehwa’s face as she approached him as if to swallow him whole, Yirok asked in a low voice.

“Why do you want to text with me.”

“There’s no one else but you.”

Chaehwa answered, digesting Yirok’s cold question in an instant with a smile.

“I can text with other people, but… you’re the most fun, Yirok.”

There were quite a few things that felt off about brushing it aside with the word ‘fun’. However, Yirok couldn’t say anything and just nodded his head as if in agreement. Chaehwa smiled brightly and, as if she had been waiting, took out her own cellphone. Placing the phone next to the candle, Chaehwa turned on the screen.

“You know that if you go in here, it’s the inbox. And if you press the window down here… this pops up. Are you watching?”

“Yeah.”

“And if you press here again, you can write like this. Here, I’ll give it to you, so try writing anything.”

Learning from Chaehwa, it wasn’t difficult to write a text. In fact, it was easy enough that he could have figured it out with a little effort. Perhaps it was more fitting to say that finding the words to write was harder than the act of writing itself. Even now, having learned how and been handed the phone, Yirok found it hard to think of a sentence he wanted to write.

As if she disliked his finger hovering over the keypad, deep in thought, Chaehwa chimed in.

“Just write something like ‘Hello, nice to see you.’ If it’s really that hard.”

“Why would I say ‘nice to see you, hello’ when you’re right next to me.”

“Ah… we’re just practicing right now. You idiot, Yirok.”

Unable to withstand the scolding, Yirok’s finger moved again and pressed ‘ㅇ’*. The moment he did, his thoughts grew long. Yirok suddenly turned off the phone screen and stood up from his seat. Chaehwa’s face, as she looked up, was colored with bewilderment.

“I’m leaving.”

“I told you to send a reply before you go.”

Even though she told him to sit down, Yirok turned his back and left Chaehwa’s study. There were footsteps following behind him, but the sound of a door opening was faster. Yeonrye was coming in, holding a tray with yakgwa and sikhye.

“Oh. Haenang Yirok, have some of this….”

“I’m fine.”

Yirok gave a curt reply and left Chaehwa’s quarters. Walking at a fast pace until there were no more sounds of pursuit, Yirok only caught his breath after arriving at the pine nut tree forest.

In front of Chaehwa, who was waiting with sparkling eyes to see what words he would write, his fingers had moved on their own. The moment he realized he wanted to write something like, Thank you, what washed over him was embarrassment.

Like doing exercises under the moonlit night, Yirok stood in place and wiped his face with his bare hands. With each passing day, he was becoming more and more uncontrollable. When he thought of the remaining lesson days, his mind went blank.

“Fucking hell….”

The one most at fault here was himself, for being unable to refuse the special lessons. After reflecting for a long while under the moonlight, Yirok went back to the dormitory.

Vowing that tomorrow, he would succeed in keeping his distance from Chaehwa like before.

Footnotes:

T/N: ‘ㅇ’ is the first consonant of “안녕” (Annyeong), the Korean word for “Hello.”