World Chapter 4.1

In the middle of her meal, my aunt had morning sickness. My aunt was pregnant. If there is such a thing as reincarnation, if a person dies and is reborn as a human again, I hope to be reborn as a human in my next life too. I wish that the dead Hyungjo, and I who will also die, could be reborn as humans and love again. If, even by doing so, I could love Hyungjo again. Is that too big of a wish…….

My aunt, suffering from morning sickness, waved her hands, saying she couldn’t eat anymore, and my uncle fussed over her, helping her up, while I just chewed and ate my rice, stuff, stuff.

It was a daily life with one corner broken off. In shock from Hyungjo’s death, I was trying my best to push Sungjoon, Heo Seok, and Taewan, who had been ghosts just like Hyungjo, to the edge of my consciousness.

It didn’t matter what happened to them. For those who threw themselves into the student movement of that era, dying for liberal democracy was an honor. Hyungjo, who survived without dying and clung to his tenacious life, should have been ashamed. Enduring those blood-soaked times wasn’t a sign of being tough, but proof of a lack of courage.

The courage to set oneself on fire, the courage to jump from a building, the courage to stand against the military regime.

Hyungjo was a coward. For what reason had he endured all those years?

I developed a habit of counting the days on the calendar. Five days had passed since Hyungjo died. Three days had passed since the funeral procession. Hyungjo was buried somewhere on the family mountain. Tomorrow would be the sixth day since Hyungjo died, and the day after that would be a week since Hyungjo died.

They dug up the ground and put Hyungjo, who was in a coffin, into that pitch-black darkness. And then they covered it with dirt. Hyungjo will rot. Will his face rot first, or his legs? Hyungjo, rotting and decaying. Death was not as comfortable as I thought. Death was pain itself, simply because it was death.

School was the same as ever. I was dying, yet everything was perfectly alive and breathing, flowing on perfectly.

It was the end of the semester. Even though Hyungjo had died, the world turned like this, still moving busily. I was barely living through the era that Taewan hyung had so worried about and detested.

People’s expressions were gentle and always full of vitality. Everything was in its place, to the point where it was hard to believe there had ever been such a time when Taewan and Sungjoon, Heo Seok and Hyungjo, had lived so arduously.

Sitting on the bus, I stared blankly at people and recalled Taewan’s words.

That we are losing the essence of life.

A world without conflict was so quiet. A glimpse of an idiotic listlessness could be seen in the peaceful daily life where everyone lived by making appropriate compromises, with no one shedding blood.

The era they lived in, an era where every day friends who had shared blood died, an era where being alive was in itself cowardly, an era where a life without anger was cowardly.

That era was, rather, an era where consciousness was awake and alive, an era where the true freedom Taewan spoke of surged.

It seemed the common enemy had hidden its form and was secretly manipulating the world. In the 80s, the red and dark enemy was exposed. The common enemy that united people and set their hearts on fire made them long for true freedom.

Was there ever really such a tearful time when they tried to gain the right to freedom and democratization even by setting themselves on fire in self-immolation……. It was sad that no one remembered them.

Not wanting to think about anything, I clung to my studies. I wrote reports with a dogged persistence, and I took exams with a dogged persistence.

I was still perceived among the students as a classmate who was half out of his mind, but I didn’t care much.

I had seen and experienced what they hadn’t. I, who had not just experienced it but had fallen in love with it, might have been the mentally ill person they thought I was. It didn’t end there; I had formed a relationship with a ghost, no, a spirit.

Come to think of it, that was not a pleasure a person could give. A spirit entered my body and stimulated me, raising every single cell of pleasure. A sexual pleasure that made me tingle from the tips of my toes to the roots of my hair. My cells were aroused as if I had been burned, and I was on the verge of ejaculating just from my pants brushing against me.

The spirit that followed me all the way to the school bathroom. That damn bastard.

∞ ∞ ∞

I readjusted the slipping bag on my shoulder and was reading the report I had written last night. Summer had arrived before I knew it, and the weather was hot, making me sweat. I was wiping my forehead with the back of my hand when I flinched and stopped walking.

“Can we talk for a bit.”

“…….”

Hyungjo’s son, Kim Hanse, was leaning against the classroom entrance, wearing sunglasses in the hot sunlight.

The students glanced at him. I pretended not to know him and wiped my sweat as I walked past him.

“I said, let’s talk.”

He grabbed my wrist, stopping me. Without looking back at him, I twisted my hand free. Then I quickened my pace. Heavy footsteps followed behind me.

“Jung Hyunwoo, let’s talk.”

“…….”

“I found your name in my father’s diary.”

Startled, I stopped dead in my tracks and turned to look at him. The eyes behind the sunglasses might have been smiling.

I turned pale and stared at the notebook he was holding in his hand. The air I had felt as hot evaporated in an instant. The sweat beaded on my forehead and the sweat running down my back instantly evaporated and disappeared. My heart pounded violently.

What? My name is in Hyungjo’s diary……?

“You want to see it, right?”

“…….”

“Follow me.”

I followed him obediently.

The air conditioner in his car was blowing coolly. Kim Hanse was a first-year prosecutor in the violent crimes unit and was seven years older than me. He only resembled Hyungjo in appearance; his insides were completely different. Looking at his son, Hyungjo felt more and more distant.

As soon as I sat in the passenger seat, I tried to snatch what was in his hand.

“Whoa there……, you’re quite impatient.”

“Give it to me!”

Provoked by his teasing tone, I snatched the diary from his hand. Leaving him with a surprised expression, I turned the first page.

“It’s the diary my father kept at the hospital. A few months ago, my father collapsed from heart disease. After being admitted to the hospital, he would often lose consciousness even without any particular abnormalities. When he regained consciousness and woke up, he would always write in his diary. That’s what my mother told me. Read it, and explain it to me.”

Whatever Hanse was chattering about next to me, it didn’t register. I desperately read Hyungjo’s handwriting. It was definitely the handwriting of the Hyungjo I remembered.

[I had a dream. My wife said I was unconscious, but it was a peaceful dream. In the dream, I heard Maria Callas’s voice. It was definitely the sound of the LP that Heo Seok had once gifted me. I don’t remember much after that. The dream was clearly vivid, but when I woke up, I couldn’t remember anything.]

[I lost consciousness again. To be honest, I was hoping for this to happen. Because I wanted to dream. It was foolish. I think I met someone in my dream. He was very lovely. For the first time in my life, I felt the desire to possess someone.]

[I had a dream while not in a comatose state. Was it because of that? The dream was clear in my mind after I woke up. I…… am embarrassed to look at my wife.]

[Dreaming has become enjoyable. To the point where I want to chew on sleeping pills just to dream.]

[Last night, a face clearly came to mind. He was crying, and a part of my heart ached. A strange feeling, a feeling I’ve never felt before. I feel sorry looking at the faces of my wife and Hanse.]

[I met Ji Sungjoon, Heo Seok, and Lee Taewan. Heo Seok……. His bourgeois tendencies were sickening even in my dream. And then there was someone named Jung Hyunwoo. This feeling is a first. Love? It would be ridiculous to call it love. It’s a dream. I feel that something is wrong.]

[I thought about why I’m having dreams like this. My head hurts. My heart has gotten worse. Stenosis and occlusion due to coronary artery sclerosis……. I don’t think I have much time left. I don’t know if my heart hurts because it’s rotting, or because of that person in my dream. To the point where I don’t know…… I am standing on the border between the afterlife and reality.]

[I woke up startled from my sleep. I felt a hard pain in my shoulders, both upper arms, my neck, and between my shoulder blades. The nurse gave me morphine. The pain didn’t go away even with the narcotic painkiller, so the reason I’m in pain isn’t in my heart. Is this even possible? I am in love with him.]

[I feel like I’m going crazy from self-loathing. I held him in my dream. The feel of his lips, the sensation of his tongue, the softness of his skin. Everything is so vivid that if I close my eyes, I can feel it all. When I woke up, I had ejaculated. Am I going mad? It was incomparable to any sex I’ve had before. Can a wet dream be this vivid? It wasn’t simple sex. It was a union that spiritually fulfilled me more. The feeling that I was loving and being loved. It’s ridiculous. But if this isn’t a dream, if I’m meeting him somewhere in reality, I think I could live. I feel a desire within me to live, even if it means carving out my rotten heart. The pain worsened, so I got a shot of codeine. My wife is asleep by my bed.]

[I had a bad feeling. A bad feeling about what was to come for Ji Sungjoon and Lee Taewan washed over me. But there was nothing I could do. I asked him for a favor. Hoping that just as it was a dream for me, it would also be a dream for him. Even the reality within the dream presses down on me cruelly. My chest feels tight.]

[For the first time in my life, I cried from sadness. In my dream, I was in my twenties and I was truly in love with him. Why did it have to be a dream? Seeing tears flow down my wrinkled face, I feel like half my heart is rotting away.]

[Kim Joong-hwan and Yoo Gil-hwa died. More urgent to me than their deaths was one thing. Jung Hyunwoo. Jung Hyunwoo. In my dream, I avoided the scenes of protest where tear gas canisters flew. To be with Hyunwoo. And so I survived along with the deaths of the 80s. Hyunwoo was in there. The movement, the martyrs, the self-immolations……. I clenched my fists and burst with indignation, but it was nothing more than masturbation. I was too busy loving. A clear and pure soul made me turn away from the comrades who died shedding tears of blood by my side. Am I a coward? Is that why I stepped over so many deaths and am still breathing, living so cowardly? The time I spend in a coma has increased. I wish I could be in a coma forever. Is that a foolish wish?]

[I want to hold him just once. I knew it was the last time. Even though it was a dream, I knew it was a dream. I think that was the first time my soul had ever been so clear. Because I knew it was a dream that would break, because I knew I didn’t have much time left, I confessed. That I would never forget for all eternity. I love you, Jung Hyunwoo. Is this, is today the last? I feel pathetic for truly wishing we wouldn’t wake up from the dream together.]

I want to hold him. A tear dropped onto Hyungjo’s scribbled handwriting of ‘I want to’. The ink bled, and the letters soon blurred. Afraid the words would be erased, I quickly hugged the notebook to my chest.

Ah……, the unconscious Hyungjo. I met the soul of Hyungjo in his twenties. Who had summoned us?

I cried without daring to make a sound. Afraid that the overwhelming emotions for Hyungjo would be disturbed, would be broken, I couldn’t even make a sound.

His son watched me silently as I bit my lip and cried.

Hanse offered me a can of coffee. I disliked coffee because it was just bitter and tasteless, but my throat was parched from crying so hard.

I said thank you and took the coffee. Hyungjo’s notebook was still cradled in my arms. I was hugging it with all my might, afraid he would ask for it back. I wouldn’t give it back even if he pressed a gun to my forehead. As if he had read my resolve, Hanse didn’t ask for the notebook back. He just seemed shocked. He shook his head as if confused and asked in a questioning tone.

“What on earth does what’s written in there mean?”

“…….”

“Hey, I have a right to know too. I’m his son.”

“…….”

“Hey.”

“What did he teach at the university, Hyungjo?”

“……East Asian History.”

I snorted at his words. The laugh became a catalyst, and I felt a surge of emotion and tears welled up.

Ah, so that’s why.

In his dream, and when I was with Hyungjo in reality, Hyungjo knew modern history by year like the back of his hand. He was a professor who taught history at a university. Whether by reason or logic, it was incomprehensible, but my heart understood. The memories of loving Hyungjo.

“You loved each other in a dream, is that it?”

“…….”

“I brought this notebook to get an answer. I don’t do useless things. Is the Jung Hyunwoo in that notebook you?”

“No.”

“……Are you messing with me, tsk.”

At my denial, he scratched his head in irritation. As if someone might snatch it away, I hugged the notebook tightly and glanced over at Hanse. He let out a deep sigh and muttered something, his whole vibe completely different from the Hyungjo who had seemed like a student preparing for exams.

The moment I first mistook him for Hyungjo and believed Hyungjo had come back to life seemed like a lie. He was like a rough beast, like a wild animal raised freely on the plains. I even wondered if he was really his son. Despite being in a suit, his tie and shirt were sticking out haphazardly.

I hugged the notebook tightly and turned away.

Who could have summoned me and the soul of the unconscious Hyungjo…….

Whose were the feelings of anger and pity that surged up moment by moment? Was it Taewan hyung’s soul?

I clenched my jaw tight. My chin trembled.

“If you say it’s not you, then I guess it’s not. The notebook, hand it over.”

“…….”

Hanse rested one arm on the steering wheel and abruptly held out his other hand toward me. My gaze anxiously scraped across the space between Hanse’s eyebrows, hidden behind black sunglasses.

This was the proof of my love with Hyungjo. It wasn’t just my own delusion, but the sole evidence that our souls had connected. To have this taken away was no different from having Hyungjo taken away.

I threw the can of coffee I was holding in my hand at Hanse’s face, got out of the car, and ran like a madman. When I glanced back, Hanse was clutching his forehead, his upper body hunched over.

I flew as light as the wind. My chest felt like it was swelling up and about to burst.

We loved each other. That fact alone was an infinite blessing upon my soul. Hyungjo was dead, but our love would not die.

Just as Hyungjo came to meet me as a soul, I don’t know when it will be, but Hyungjo will surely appear before me again. Just as Taewan’s soul called us, we are bound to meet. Because all of this that I experienced was not a dream.

I ran for a long time, my body feeling light enough to fly. My breath grew short, and I slowly came to a stop.

“Hah, hah, damn it……!”

I gasped for breath, spitting out a low curse along with it. I had only taken the notebook, leaving my bag and assignments in his car. My legs gave out and I squatted down on the ground. Hyungjo’s notebook was against my chest.

Facing Hyungjo’s serious-looking handwriting, a dry hunger washed over me.

I miss you. I miss you, Hyungjo.

As I was staring blankly at Hyungjo’s notebook, someone grabbed my shoulder. I jumped in fright and looked back.

“Hah, hah, for a little guy, you’re damn fast.”

Hanse was breathing heavily, as if he had been running the whole time. He was pressing down hard on my shoulder, so I couldn’t pull away or get up. It wasn’t that he was holding my shoulder down to prevent me from escaping; Hanse was leaning his body weight, which was hard to control after his frantic sprint, onto me. On his face, instead of sunglasses, there was a red scratch. It seemed to be my handiwork.

I furtively hugged the notebook to my chest. Still leaning half his weight on my shoulder, he spoke.

“I’m not finished talking.”

He grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and pulled me up. Even if he beat me to death, I would never give up the notebook. As I flinched and put my guard up, Hanse laughed as if it were pathetic.

“You’re something else. That Jung Hyunwoo, you said it wasn’t you.”

“……Let go of this.”

“It’s my father’s possession. Hand it over.”

“…….”

“What on earth does the content mean? Meeting in a dream, was that a metaphor? It wasn’t a dream, right? You came all the way to the hospital to meet my father, didn’t you?”

I glared at Hyungjo’s son, who had a poor imagination. He kept shaking me by the scruff of my neck. My body was dragged back and forth as he shook me. But I held onto the notebook on my chest for dear life.

“You want to be utterly humiliated when this gets out, don’t you? That you were in that kind of relationship with a professor old enough to be your father.”

“What?”

I glared at him fiercely. The red scratch on the bridge of Hanse’s nose twitched.

“A lot of people saw you at my father’s wake. It’s perfect for a misunderstanding.”

“……Let go of me.”

“You’re being informal at the end of every sentence. I don’t know what you were to my father, but I’m older than you.”

“Let go. Before I kill you.”

He scoffed at my threat as if it weren’t even pathetic. He let go of the scruff of my neck, practically throwing me. I foolishly lost my footing in front of him and fell. A triumphant laugh that found my state utterly ridiculous sounded from behind me.

I pushed myself up from the ground. I brushed the dirt off the notebook and said to him.

“Give me my bag.”

“It seems you haven’t grasped the situation yet. Are you only going to come to your senses after you’ve been thoroughly humiliated?”

“Go ahead and run your mouth.”

“…….”

“Go on and spread it. Who’s stopping you?”

At my resolute attitude that I would never give it back no matter what he did, Hanse let out a low sigh. With his momentum somewhat broken, he said.

“Fine, I’ll give you the notebook. In exchange, explain the contents. Like I said before, I have a right to know.”

“…….”