Miracle Illusion Chapter 2.5 - A Part Of The Lost Memories (5)

Yeonwoo’s ears turned red. Sungwoon laughed and ruffled Yeonwoo’s hair playfully.

“So what’s the main point then?”

Yeonwoo, gazing at the lake getting closer, spoke as if in a trance.

“It wasn’t hard.”

“……”

“It wasn’t hard at all.”

Sungwoon’s mouth, ready to tease whatever Yeonwoo chose, shut tight. His stomach felt heavy, as if the fish in the lake were swimming through his heart.

“Hey, Hong Yeonwoo.”

“Yeah.”

“Hold onto the handles tightly.”

“What?”

Yeonwoo, taken aback, did as Sungwoon instructed, gripping the wheelchair handles tightly. Seeing the veins stand out on the back of Yeonwoo’s hands, Sungwoon took a deep breath and then started running. It was his first time running fast since the accident. The not-too-cold wind brushed their cheeks.

“What’s going on…!”

“Isn’t it fun?”

Hearing Sungwoon shout from behind, Yeonwoo abandoned his plan to jump out and nodded. Tears gathered at the corners of Yeonwoo’s eyes.

“The main point is that I’m grateful. You idiot.”

Sungwoon ran faster. The wheelchair wheels kept rolling forward. The beautiful lake sped past beside them. Yeonwoo sniffled and smiled faintly.

“It’s not like we’re kids. Why chocolate milk?”

“It’s tasty.”

After running for a while, they stopped at a convenience store, panting. Sungwoon chose a soda, and Yeonwoo chose chocolate milk. Sitting side by side on a bench with a view of the lake, they cooled down. Watching Yeonwoo drink his milk through a straw, Sungwoon laughed heartily and teased him. Yeonwoo looked down and smiled slightly.

“It feels refreshing. I was so cooped up in the hospital.”

“Right.”

“I should give Hong Yeonwoo a perfect attendance award on discharge day.”

Sungwoon playfully poked Yeonwoo’s forehead with his finger. Yeonwoo squinted and glared at him, making Sungwoon laugh again.

“Don’t you want to be discharged quickly?”

“……”

“I’ve been in the hospital too long.”

After speaking, Yeonwoo sucked on his straw. The chocolate milk disappeared into the straw with a slurp. Sungwoon leaned back on the bench and looked up at the blue sky.

“I don’t know.”

“What?”

“I hate the hospital, but I don’t want to go home.”

“……”

“My house is so big, and I have to live there alone.”

Sungwoon rubbed his lower lip with the back of his hand. Yeonwoo, about to say something, just blinked. Sungwoon looked down at him, sighing.

“I hate cleaning. I really hate cleaning.”

“……”

“Just thinking about cleaning that big house gives me a headache.”

His matter-of-fact voice carried an indescribable weight. Yeonwoo nodded slowly and stared at the milk in his hand. Sungwoon shrugged at Yeonwoo’s dejected profile.

“Where’s your house?”

“My house?”

“Yeah. You’ve been to my house. Have I been to yours?”

Trying to change the subject, Sungwoon’s words seemed to unsettle Yeonwoo. Watching him hesitate, Sungwoon tilted his head slightly.

“…Yeah. You’ve been there.”

“Wow, we must have been really close.”

“……”

“Was it nearby?”

“Just about a thirty-minute walk.”

“That’s pretty far.”

“It wasn’t that far.”

“What did we do at your house?”

He was simply curious. What memories did he share with this friend he couldn’t remember? What was so important about those memories that would lead to such selfless sacrifice? A cool breeze blew between them. Yeonwoo followed Sungwoon’s gaze to the sky. White clouds floated lazily in the blue expanse.

“There’s an old, closed-down train station up a hill near my house.”

“A closed-down train station?”

“Yeah. It’s been over ten years.”

“That sounds really creepy.”

“…No, not really.”

Yeonwoo’s lips curled up slightly. Sungwoon nudged Yeonwoo’s shoe with his foot, signaling him to continue.

“There, we…”

Yeonwoo’s mumbling trailed off, and his mouth shut tightly. Sungwoon’s eyebrows rose, waiting for him to continue. Yeonwoo’s eyes reddened. After hesitating for a while, he finally spoke again.

“We just played there.”

“……”

“It’s getting chilly. Should we go back?”

He was clearly avoiding saying more. Sungwoon’s dark eyes grew even deeper. Fearing Sungwoon might make him sit again, Yeonwoo quickly folded the wheelchair and prepared to leave.

“Hong Yeonwoo.”

“Yeah.”

“After I get discharged… can I go there again?”

“Where?”

“Your house.”

Sungwoon asked without smiling. His face, devoid of its usual playfulness, looked sharp. Meeting Sungwoon’s gaze, Yeonwoo stood there for a moment before slowly nodding.

“Sure.”

Only after hearing the answer did Sungwoon get up from the bench. They walked side by side. The lake, which had been on their left, now stretched out on their right. Sungwoon subtly moved to the left.

“Tell me what we did back then.”

“……”

Yeonwoo, who had been staring at the sunlit water, turned his head. Sungwoon continued walking, speaking casually.

“I want to remember now.”

“……”

The laughter of families out for a walk was quite loud. A dog barked in the distance. Yeonwoo’s eyes flickered like candle flames as he looked up at Sungwoon, who never looked back at him.

“Your taste in ice cream is really weird.”

“Why?”

“I wouldn’t even eat mint.”

“It’s good.”

“It tastes like toothpaste.”

“But it’s the good kind of toothpaste taste.”

The ice cream in their cones began to melt slightly. Sungwoon had chosen yogurt flavor, and Yeonwoo had chosen mint chocolate. Overwhelmed by the thirty-plus flavors, Yeonwoo had picked mint chocolate in a daze. Sungwoon, biting into his white ice cream, stared at Yeonwoo’s. The strange green color with black chips looked unappetizing.

“Do you want to try it?”

“Sure.”

“But you said you didn’t like it.”

“Watching you eat it so deliciously made me curious.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Despite his words, Yeonwoo handed his ice cream to Sungwoon. Sungwoon promptly took a bite from the rounded edge. The peculiar taste, neither tangy nor sweet, enveloped his tongue. Mint chocolate was definitely not his preference.

“Hey, it’s melting.”

Sticky liquid trickled down the back of Yeonwoo’s hand. Sungwoon quickly pulled out a wet wipe and cleaned it up. Yeonwoo twisted his wrist, smiling sheepishly.

“You’re getting discharged tomorrow.”

“Time flies.”

What had been enjoyable ice cream suddenly lost its taste. Sungwoon looked from his cone to the trash can, debating whether to throw it away.

“Is your aunt picking you up?”

“No.”

“Then?”

“She said she’d come, but I told her I’d go alone.”

“But you have stuff to carry.”

“You’re here.”

“Huh?”

“Why, you’re not coming tomorrow?”

Sungwoon decided throwing it away was best and turned his ice cream upside down into the trash can. What a waste… Yeonwoo murmured beside him.

“I’ll come.”

“Right. It’d be a shame to miss the perfect attendance award the day before.”

Yeonwoo, too, had long lost interest in his ice cream. His expression carried a heavy emotion he couldn’t name.

“Hey.”

“Yeah.”

Sungwoon leaned back against the wall. The bed shook, and melted ice cream dripped from Yeonwoo’s hand. Slowly blinking, Sungwoon gazed at him.

“We have some of Mom’s bone broth at home. It’s been over two months, so it must be spoiled, right?”

“No. My grandma said bone broth lasts a long time.”

“That’s only if it’s frozen.”

“No, you can still eat it.”

“It’s probably spoiled.”

“It’s not.”

“How could it not spoil after sitting out for over two months?”

“Bone broth doesn’t spoil.”

“Damn…”

The two exchanged quiet words, then burst into laughter. Silence followed. Yeonwoo tapped his feet together to ease the awkwardness, while Sungwoon looked up at the ceiling.

“Thanks.”

“……”

The thank you was barely louder than a whisper. Yeonwoo, his eyes red, touched his neck and cleared his throat.

“I would’ve died long ago if it weren’t for you.”

“Don’t say that.”

“That’s how thankful I am.”

“Okay.”

Though the awkward phase seemed over, silence was unusually frequent today. They avoided each other’s eyes, looking elsewhere.

“It’s eight o’clock.”

“Yeah.”

“Time really flies.”

The last day at the hospital was passing quickly. The darkness outside the window obscured everything.

“It’s time for you to go.”

“Yeah.”

“Take care.”

“…Yeah.”

Their conversation continued but felt oddly disjointed. Yeonwoo jumped off the bed and grabbed his bag. Sungwoon, watching the black star keychain dangle, waved half-heartedly.

“Good night.”

“Okay.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Take care.”

He didn’t know how many times they repeated their farewells. Even at the hospital door, Yeonwoo kept saying good night. Sungwoon, lying on his back, covered his eyes with his arm and kept answering, okay, yeah.

With a creak, the door opened. Yeonwoo had one foot out the door when Sungwoon’s voice softly echoed.

“…Hey.”

“Huh?”

Yeonwoo’s steps halted. One foot outside, one inside. Sungwoon, eyes closed, watched dust particles float in his vision and spoke heavily.

“Come tomorrow… without fail.”

“……”

“I don’t have the courage to go home alone.”

His voice was hoarse. He didn’t feel like crying, but his throat was parched and cracked. Sungwoon pressed his arm against his eyes. The pressure made his temples throb.

“I’ll definitely come.”

“……”

“See you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“Good night.”

It was the final farewell. Yeonwoo quietly said goodbye and closed the door. His footsteps grew distant. Only then did Sungwoon slowly open his eyes. His neck felt hot, almost burning. It wasn’t that he had developed different feelings for Yeonwoo. He just really didn’t have the courage to go home alone. It was the day before his discharge.

⟡˖ ࣪

— Are you sure you don’t need me to come?

“I’m fine.”

— You can find your way home, right?

“How old do you think I am?”

— I saved the address, so don’t get confused.

“Okay.”

— You’re feeling alright? Fully recovered?

Sungwoon chuckled through his teeth. It was amusing how she asked now. She hadn’t visited the hospital once since he regained consciousness. Not wanting to continue the conversation, he ended it quickly. The other party also wrapped it up with a “see you next time.”

10 AM. His bags were already packed. Just a large suitcase and a bag. Sungwoon neatly folded the blanket and placed it on the bed, then sat on the spare chair, glancing at the unopened door. It was time for Yeonwoo to arrive, but he was late on the last day. Sungwoon smiled, thinking he’d tease him when he arrived.

“What’s this?”

While organizing his bag, he found a piece of paper on the floor. It looked like it had been torn from a sketchbook, with a strange drawing on it. It wasn’t his work; it must have been Yeonwoo’s.

“Is it a monkey?”

The eyes and nose were on the same line. The eyes were human, but the shape was a monkey. He couldn’t figure out what it was. I’ll ask Hong Yeonwoo when he comes. Sungwoon folded the paper and put it in his pocket.

“He’s really late.”

12 PM. The sun was high, but Yeonwoo hadn’t arrived. He usually burst into the room at 10 AM sharp, but today there wasn’t even the sound of footsteps in the hallway. Sungwoon sat on the bed, biting his lip. Did he oversleep? Miss the bus? The discharge time was approaching.

“Damn it…”

3 PM. The discharge time had passed. He had permission to stay since the room wouldn’t be occupied immediately. Standing by the window, Sungwoon tapped the frame with his fingers, hiding his anxiety.

He had never relied on anyone before, but the accident must have affected his brain. What if something happened to Yeonwoo on the way? The thought made his heart race. Rubbing his eyebrows with the back of his hand, Sungwoon sighed deeply.

“Haa…”

5 PM. Sungwoon lay on the bed again. He hadn’t slept all night, but his mind was oddly clear. Trying to force himself to sleep, his thoughts kept drifting. It was frustrating not having a phone at twenty. He wanted to leave, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. What if Yeonwoo came after he left?

“Let’s go, damn it…”

7 PM. Sungwoon grabbed his bag and pulled his suitcase. He felt fine, as if he had never been sick. The suitcase wheels made an annoying noise. He was irritated. The heat inside him rose to his throat. He felt foolish for waiting all day. Veins stood out on his arm as he pulled the suitcase.

“It’s so damn cold…”

Stepping outside, the chilly wind wrapped around him. His hands quickly turned red from the cold. Sungwoon headed to the nearby taxi stand. The line was long, probably due to rush hour. He’d have to wait over thirty minutes. Everything annoyed him. He sighed, watching his breath form a white cloud. Staring blankly at the streetlights and car lights, he felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket.

The unfamiliar number started with a local area code, but he was sure it was Yeonwoo. Dropping his bag, Sungwoon quickly answered the call.

“Hello.”

— ……

The other person didn’t speak. Even without hearing his voice, Sungwoon knew it was Yeonwoo. The occasional sniffles sounded just like him.

“Hong Yeonwoo?”

— …Yeah.

“Haa…”

A sigh mixed with various emotions—emptiness, anger, frustration, relief. Sungwoon, feeling a heavy weight he couldn’t identify, tugged at his hair. His heart began to beat irregularly.

“Hey, damn it… Haa…”

He wanted to say something, but only sighs came out.

— I don’t think I can come today. I’m sorry.

A voice soaked in sobs came from the other end. Sungwoon sighed softly.

“You’re telling me this now.”

— I’m sorry.

“Haa…”

— …You waited, didn’t you?

“…No. I figured you weren’t coming, so I just got discharged.”

— That’s a relief.

His voice trembled so much it was hard to understand without focusing. Yeonwoo continued to mumble in a voice that seemed to crawl.

— I was supposed to go home with you… I’m really sorry.

“…It’s fine.”

— I’m sorry.

His dejected voice was concerning. Sungwoon bit his lip, tilting his head back.

“Nothing happened, right?”

— …No. Nothing.

“Then it’s fine.”

— ……

“Damn it, I thought you had an accident…”

An awkward silence followed. Sungwoon stepped out of the taxi line with his luggage. The biting wind made it hard to hear Yeonwoo’s voice. Just as he checked the screen, thinking the call had dropped, a tightly restrained voice came through.

— …Choi Sungwoon.

“What.”

— You’re fully recovered, right?

It was the second time he heard that question today. Sungwoon snorted.

“Didn’t you see? I’m perfectly healthy.”

— That’s a relief.

“Your questions are oddly out of the blue.”

He had been heated all day, but a brief conversation with Yeonwoo calmed him down. Sungwoon sat on a nearby bench, sensing the call would be long.

“But you…”

— I don’t think we can see each other anymore.

His words were cut off. The tearful voice continued quickly, as if not wanting to hear Sungwoon’s response. Sungwoon’s mouth shut tightly. His dark eyes flickered.

— There’s just some circumstances. I don’t think we can see each other anymore.

“……”

— I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Choi Sungwoon.

His voice wavered but didn’t break. Sungwoon looked into the distance, blinking slowly. A hollow laugh escaped.

“What are you sorry for?”

— ……

“There’s plenty to be sorry for. But… you’re not my only friend. Don’t worry about it.”

— ……

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I hope it gets resolved.”

— ……

He didn’t know what he truly felt. He just said whatever came to mind. Even as he spoke, he thought this wasn’t right, but his mouth moved on its own. His clenched fist made a cracking sound.

— …Okay.

Now it was time to end the call. If I had known it would end so quickly, I would have stayed in line. Staring at the long line that showed no signs of shortening, Sungwoon let out a hollow laugh.

“Hey.”

— …Yeah.

“While packing today, I found a drawing in my bag.”

— …

“The eyes, nose, and mouth were all crammed together. It was terribly drawn. It wasn’t me, so it must be you, right?”

— …

Yeonwoo stayed silent. Sungwoon smirked, feeling strangely empty.

“What was it? A monkey, right?”

— …

“Well, even if we can’t see each other anymore, I’m really curious about the answer.”

Even at the end, he was talking nonsense. After a long silence, Yeonwoo let out a faint laugh. The sound, similar to a sob, made Sungwoon’s smile fade.

— It’s you.

“What?”

— That drawing is of you.

Another faint laugh, and the call ended. It wasn’t until after the call that Sungwoon could define the emotion that had been swirling in his throat all day.

It was disappointment.

The hallway sensor light flickered on and off repeatedly. Even though he knew the door lock code, Sungwoon hesitated to press it. Losing his memory felt like a blessing.

With trembling hands, he punched in the six-digit code. The cheerful beep of the lock opening felt out of sync with his mood. Sungwoon pushed his luggage inside and slowly followed.

“……”

The cold air wrapped around him. The house clearly felt uninhabited. Despite wearing a padded jacket, he shivered. The sensor light above flickered and went out with a click. Standing motionless in the dark entrance, Sungwoon simply breathed.

“…I’m home.”

It was a greeting he always used when coming home. Naturally, no one responded. Sungwoon rubbed his frozen face with his hand.

“Mom, I’m back.”

His voice echoed like it was in a cave. He laughed at himself for saying it again to the empty air. His heart ached. Slowly, he took off his shoes and stepped inside. The kitchen was to his right, but he didn’t dare look, heading straight to his room instead.

Thanks to his previous visit with Yeonwoo, the room didn’t feel too unfamiliar. Not that his memories returned, though. First, Sungwoon closed and locked the door. He didn’t want to leave the room. After hanging his jacket on a chair, he sat on the bed and stared blankly into space.

‘Son, dinner’s ready.’

‘I’m not hungry.’

‘You have to eat dinner.’

‘I’d rather have some bread.’

Shaking the bag of rolls always led to a scolding. His mother would approach, slap his back, and glare at him to come out.

‘I got your favorite peaches at the market today.’

‘Mom, you’re the best.’

‘Of course. Whose mom do you think I am?’

His mother always loved to hear flattery.

‘Mom, teach me how to draw too.’

‘Drawing is a talent.’

‘Who did I inherit that talent from? It must be you.’

‘It takes two hands to clap, Mom.’

‘You really have something to say about everything.’

Despite her words, Sungwoon promptly placed a sharpened 4B pencil in her hand. Like a child, his mother’s eyes sparkled as she drew soft lines in the sketchbook. Of course, the finished drawing was unimpressive. Sungwoon laughed heartily, and his mother glared at him before joining in the laughter.

‘It’s a crucial time. I’m sorry.’

‘There’s plenty to be sorry about. It’s okay. Transferring schools doesn’t mean I lose my skills.’

The move was sudden, due to his father’s job transfer. Sungwoon’s father repeatedly apologized, feeling guilty about uprooting him just before his college entrance exams. Sungwoon shrugged it off as if it were no big deal. Although it wasn’t entirely irrelevant, he was okay with it. Seeing his father so apologetic hurt him more.

‘What is all this…’

On the day they decided to move, he remembered laughing at the heap of art supplies piled on his desk. Was it a hint to keep practicing so he wouldn’t lose his skills? This feels more like a burden than a gift. His father, pretending to watch TV, kept glancing at Sungwoon’s room and smiled awkwardly when their eyes met.

[I, Sungwoon, brought you into this world with my heart. No matter what obstacles you face, I will carry you through them. Blood may be thicker than water, but love is thicker than blood. No matter what happens, I will always love you. My son, I am grateful and love you.]

Seeing the small letter on the canvas brought tears to his eyes, and he quickly closed the door.

He had vivid memories of their previous home, but none of this one. As if by some cruel joke, only the memories of this place were completely gone. In a way, he felt fortunate. Remembering might have been unbearable. He shook off the endless thoughts.

“Damn it…”

He lay down without changing clothes. The blanket offered no warmth, but he didn’t have the strength to turn on the heater. He wished he could fall asleep and never wake up. He felt like he’d lost his purpose and direction in life.

“……”

His eyelids were heavy from the lack of sleep the night before, but no matter how much time passed, he couldn’t fall asleep. Midnight had come and gone. It felt like he was trapped in a void, isolated from everything. The static-like sensation in his brain made chills run down his spine repeatedly.

“Haa…”

He couldn’t go on living like this. He had to live for his parents’ sake if he wasn’t going to die immediately. Sungwoon jolted upright. The dark, sleepless night was perfect for dulling his reason and giving him courage he wouldn’t normally have.

He flung the door open, which he had vowed never to open again. The cold air was chilling, but he pressed on, turning on the living room lights. Moving as if his life depended on it, he turned on the kitchen lights too. It finally felt somewhat like a home. Gritting his teeth, Sungwoon first opened the large pot on the stove.

“……”

He couldn’t tell if it was liquid or solid. The bone broth had congealed, the fat floating solidified. His eyelids fluttered. There was no way it was edible. Sungwoon moved the pot to the sink. He turned on the water, watching it fill quickly over the congealed fat.

Next, he opened the fridge. It was packed with side dishes. Leaving the kimchi, he took out the spoiled dishes. The smell as he opened each container was nauseating. Fried fish cake, seasoned anchovies, braised quail eggs, sweet potato stems… the list was endless.

“Is she preparing for hibernation…”

He found a yellow food waste bag in a drawer and began dumping the food into it. The once fluttering bag grew heavy. The mix of rotten food smells gave him a headache. He tied the bag and moved it to the balcony, then moved all the containers to the sink. Water overflowed from the pot. Sungwoon frowned at the greasy water.

He had to keep moving. Silence was unbearable. Sungwoon worked quickly. The bone broth needed more soaking, so he started with the side dish containers. He scrubbed them with a dried sponge and detergent, almost dropping them several times, but luckily nothing broke.

After putting the clean containers in the cupboard, he pushed the pot to the sink’s edge. He hesitated, biting his lip, then opened the fridge again, this time the bottom fruit compartment.

“……”

His eyes darted as if he would break it. Tears welled up despite his clenched teeth. The compartment was full of round peaches. The heavy, unknown emotion in his heart surged to his throat. Veins stood out on his neck, and his eyes turned red.

“Ah…”

This was too much. Sungwoon collapsed slowly, burying his face in his knees. His insides felt twisted, like he might die from the pain.

“Aaah…”

Tears flowed endlessly, making his eyes burn. Alone in the house, Sungwoon wept without restraint. He pounded his chest and kicked the floor. He pulled at his hair and scratched his face. Even that wasn’t enough to alleviate the pain, and he lay on the floor, sobbing.

It’s not like eating it would kill me.

Lying weakly on the floor, Sungwoon’s gaze shifted to the balcony. Suddenly, he regretted throwing away all the side dishes his mother had made. Eating them wouldn’t have killed him. He would never taste them again. He should have kept them. Tears streamed down his face. He wanted to die. He wished he could just die right there.

‘See, I told you to stop messing around.’

‘The ground was uneven, why are you blaming me?’

‘If you hadn’t been running around, this wouldn’t have happened.’

“Don’t scold the kid.”

Excited to be at the beach after a long time, Sungwoon ran around and tripped over a rock. His father, carrying him with a swollen ankle, tried to calm his mother, who kept scolding him. At twelve, he was a bit too old to be carried on his father’s back.

“Shall we take a picture over there?”

“I think those things are tacky.”

“They’re there for a reason; we should take one.”

His father spotted a photo zone in the middle of the beach, a bright red heart with “LOVE” written on it. His mother shook her head in disapproval, but his father, carrying Sungwoon, ran quickly across the sand.

“Excuse me, could you take a picture for us?”

His father and Sungwoon took their places, and his mother handed the camera to a passing young couple. His father stood on the left, his mother on the right, and Sungwoon in the middle.

“Make a heart with your hands.”

Making a heart above their heads seemed to be the norm. Sungwoon smiled brightly and made a peace sign, while his parents exchanged glances.

“Ready? One, two, three.”

“Aaah…!”

As the shutter clicked, a scream echoed. His parents burst into laughter, and Sungwoon rubbed his cheeks in annoyance.

“Why are you kissing me at my age!”

He could still feel the sensation of their lips on his cheeks. He wasn’t good with affectionate gestures. His father, patting his hair, knelt on one knee in the sand.

“Hop on, son.”

Pouting, Sungwoon quickly climbed onto his father’s back. His mother teased him about disliking kisses but being okay with piggyback rides, but he pretended not to hear. The vast, beautiful sea stretched out before them.

“Mom…”

Sleep overcame him.

“…Dad.”

His eyelids drooped. He fell asleep in the kitchen, leaving all the lights on. No matter what he did, his parents wouldn’t come back.

⟡˖ ࣪

“Damn uphill…”

His breath grew ragged. His stamina had weakened from his long hospital stay. Determined to start exercising, he trudged on. The only closed train station near Sasundong was Sasun Station. Following the map on his phone, Sungwoon cursed the endless uphill climb.

“I’m going to hit you once, damn it…”

Muttering to himself, he climbed the steep hill. He debated ten times, then ten more. But the conclusion was the same. Sungwoon decided to justify his decision rather than overturn it.

First, he needed to know the reason. Hong Yeonwoo had visited him for over a month without expecting anything in return. He owed it to him to find out what was going on. That was loyalty.

Second, it was absurd to say they couldn’t see each other again after deciding to be friends.

Third, he had planned to visit Yeonwoo’s house to recover his memories. He had promised to tell him what they did during the blank period after his discharge.

Fourth, he felt like he would die if he didn’t do something.

That was enough. Finally, he reached the top of the hill. Another uphill stretch lay ahead, but he could catch his breath for a moment. The air felt colder at the higher altitude. Taking a deep breath, Sungwoon looked around the neighborhood.

“Haunted neighborhood,” “Scheduled for demolition,” “Yoonji and Junggu were here,” “BJ Gahyun visited.” The crumbling walls were covered with graffiti from visitors.

“What are they doing to someone else’s place?”

Clicking his tongue, Sungwoon continued walking. He still had a way to go to Sasun Station, but he hadn’t seen a single person since starting the climb. He checked the map again, confirming he was on the right path. The desolate neighborhood felt eerie, with not even a stray cat in sight. Sungwoon quickened his pace.

“Haa…”

It felt like hiking. The closed train station stood high up, as if it should echo. If trains ran here, the mountain would collapse. Sungwoon glanced around. According to Hong Yeonwoo, they had spent time here, but he remembered nothing. It was absurd.

“……”

He sat down roughly on the overgrown weeds. Looking into the distance, he saw a red cross. There was no one here either. It seemed like Hong Yeonwoo had lied. There was nothing around to spend time on.

At least the air was nice. It wasn’t much different from the air below the hill, but it felt that way. He inhaled deeply, savoring the fresh air. Despite the warm weather forecast, it was still cold enough in March to keep his jacket on.

‘Let’s do a lot of fun things in the future.’

A sudden flash of a scene crossed his mind. Squinting, Sungwoon knew without deep thought that it was a lost memory.

“Ah…?”

He focused all his energy, trying to remember. It was frustrating, like something was almost there but not quite. Lowering his head, Sungwoon rolled his eyes in thought. Let’s do a lot of fun things in the future. No matter how hard he tried, that was all. He didn’t remember who said it. A fleeting fragment of memory pierced his mind and vanished.

“Damn it…”

He held his head for a long time but couldn’t remember anything else. Frustrated, he ripped at the weeds. He still couldn’t believe he had amnesia, like in the movies. In those stories, memories return suddenly. Maybe it would be the same for him. Sungwoon’s eyelids drooped slowly.

The cold hit him as the sweat dried. After nearly an hour on the ground, he slowly prepared to leave. The descent was easy, unlike the climb. Reaching the first hill, he entered the eerily quiet neighborhood again. It seemed the construction had been abandoned halfway. The place looked perfect for ghosts, just as the graffiti on the walls suggested.

“Hey!”

Sungwoon stopped at the voice behind him. Turning, he saw an old woman standing in front of a chipped blue gate.

“Me?”

“Why are you so late?”

Bent over, she walked unsteadily toward him. Surprised, Sungwoon almost ran to meet her. The old woman, wearing worn clothes, smiled up at him.

“Come inside. I’ll make you something to eat.”

She grabbed his hand and led him inside. Startled, Sungwoon found himself in the yard of the blue gate. The first thing he noticed was a purple rubber tub, then a familiar jacket on the clothesline.

“Uh…”

“Rest here. I’ll make you some food.”

The old woman acted as if they knew each other well. Watching her disappear into the kitchen, Sungwoon looked back at the jacket on the line. His stiff mouth relaxed into a smile. He had come to the right place.

“Grandma, I’m not hungry. It’s okay.”

“No, you must be hungry.”

Following her into the kitchen, Sungwoon tried to stop her. He wasn’t hungry, and it felt wrong to accept food from a stranger.

“I’ll make you some ramen. Just wait a bit.”

He couldn’t persuade her. Maybe there was a reason she acted like they knew each other, even if he didn’t remember. Thanking her, he looked around the house.

“Mind if I look around? It’s been a long time.”

Technically not a lie, but he stammered anyway. She said it was fine. Smiling, Sungwoon started with the photos on the wall. Childhood pictures of Yeonwoo. A photo of him throwing sand into the air, taken right here in the yard.

“……”

His smile faded at the last frame. It held a drawing, not a photo. Grandma and a boy—no, Hong Yeonwoo—stargazing on a mat in the yard.

He recognized it immediately. It was his drawing. Narrowing his eyes, Sungwoon touched the frame carefully. It felt familiar yet foreign. A sigh escaped his lips.

“What’s this…”

He turned to the dresser. His trembling hands picked up another frame. Another drawing, this time of Hong Yeonwoo alone, hugging his knees and smiling at the stars. Sungwoon’s head tilted slightly.

What are you, Hong Yeonwoo? No, what are we…? His heart raced wildly. His brain demanded him to remember, but his heart resisted.

“Come eat, dear.”

“Ah… yes, yes.”

Lost in deep thought, Sungwoon hurriedly put down the frame. The grandmother, having finished cooking the ramen, set up a low table. Sungwoon headed to the kitchen to bring the ramen. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed the food was ready.

“It’s hot, let me do it.”

Determined to help, Sungwoon reached for the pot handle.

“Uh…?”

“Don’t. You’ll get hurt.”

“……”

Sungwoon’s mouth slowly opened. While he was in a daze, the grandmother skillfully moved the pot to the table.

“Hurry and eat. Blow on it.”

She placed chopsticks and kimchi on the table. Sungwoon stared blankly at the grandmother and the table. It felt like his breath had stopped. The pot was empty. No ramen, no water, nothing.

“What are you doing standing there, dear?”

The grandmother, puzzled by Sungwoon’s frozen state, stood up. Sungwoon, eyes wide, covered his mouth with his hand. He had simultaneously found answers to two of the four reasons he had sought out Hong Yeonwoo.

“Grandma, are you inside?”

At the same time, there was the sound of metal scraping the floor. An urgent voice and the sound of the front door opening followed. Sungwoon, who had been standing in a daze, slowly turned his head. The grandmother, as if she had been alone until a moment ago, turned her gaze from Sungwoon to the entrance.

“Dear, you’re here? Are you hungry? I’ll make you some food.”

The words repeated like a refrain.

“I’m not hungry. Grandma, have you been staying inside all day…”

Yeonwoo, with flushed cheeks, stopped mid-motion as he took off his shoes. His eyes wavered like waves. He had locked eyes with Sungwoon, who stood by the stove. Sungwoon, frozen, could only hear his pounding heart. Yeonwoo’s pale lips slowly parted.

“Choi Sungwoon…?”

Yeonwoo, slowly straightening up, looked as if he had seen a ghost. Unable to find the right response, Sungwoon swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Why are you here?”

“Uh…”

His lips felt numb, and no words came out. Yeonwoo’s chest heaved as he watched Sungwoon blink. With a face that looked ready to cry, Sungwoon blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Grandma told me to come in.”

“…What?”

“Grandma told me to come in first. Right, Grandma?”