“…Hyung?”
Lee Cheonghyeon’s eyes wavered as he called out to . The practice room beca suffocatingly quiet.
All their gazes were fixed on .
‘Am I crazy?’
To snatch away a kid’s drink, of all things.
And just because I found it unpleasant to look at.
“Sorry, it’s nothing. I’ll give it back.”
Even to my own ears, my voice was trembling.
Lee Cheonghyeon reached out his hand with an anxious expression. The cup slipped from my hand into his fingertips.
‘Assistant Manager Kim, aren’t you overreacting? Is soone going to die from drinking that? You’re making the person who offered it feel awkward.’
The beat of my heart filled my mind.
The car accident that year happened in an instant. Without warning, not long after I had parted ways with my sister. Because of a driver who was distracted by their phone while driving.
There were no young passengers like Lee Cheonghyeon or Choi Jeho in that car. If there had been a companion, it was unknown if they would have been safe.
The last ti I saw my sister’s clothes, they were stained.
The accident scene, which I later saw in photos, was entirely soaked in a dark color.
Like the asphalt floor I saw under the streetlight on the night Yoo Hansoo hit my head.
My sister’s skin was pale. So was mine, left alone in the apartnt.
Motionless, not making a single sound of breathing, just lying still.
That was the end for us siblings.
What was I like before my breath stopped?
The pain, as if my heart was being squeezed, was still vivid.
Even after dying like that, I was still haunted by the sa agony.
I wanted to say, how can soone die so easily? I knew exactly how even a fleeting mont of embarrassnt or bravado could end in tragedy.
But for that, my sister was no longer by my side. The sll of blood was too vivid.
Because the pain constricting my chest was unbearable, because the sensation of suffocation was unforgettable.
Because I rembered myself, who went to Hannam Bridge alone as there was no one to ask for help.
I couldn’t breathe. My eyes welled up, and I clenched my teeth to hold back the tears.
I felt I needed to adjust my emotion recognition rate. I didn’t have the confidence to stay in this state any longer.
However, sotis actions are faster than thoughts…
“Hyung?”
Before I could even touch the recognition rate, my hand snatched Lee Cheonghyeon’s drink again.
Then, I pressed the opening of the straw firmly with my palm, and with my other hand, I gripped the cup tightly and didn’t let go.
I pulled the cup as close to as I could.
“I’m sorry.”
“Hyung.”
“I’m really sorry.”
All I could do was apologize. Because I didn’t know why I was suddenly acting like this. Because I couldn’t explain it in words this kid could understand.
“Let’s get you sothing else. I don’t want you to drink this. I’ll buy you a new one.”
“Okay. I won’t drink it, so calm down, hyung,”
Lee Cheonghyeon said softly. His two hands reached towards , perhaps intending to grab my arms.
At that mont, I instinctively pulled my arm back, not wanting the drink to touch his hands.
His hands, pushed aside, faltered weakly in the air.
Slowly, his bewildered face filled my vision.
Behind him, Park Joowoo looked on worriedly, and Jeong Seongbin had a hand over his mouth.
This was a mistake. A big one.
“Sorry.”
Why on earth am I doing this?
I couldn’t understand. I just felt like I was being swept away by unfamiliar emotions, subrged in swirling mories, and about to die.
* * *
Kim Iwol would intermittently have seizures when he went to bed. He frequently clutched his chest while sleeping, and each ti, he couldn’t breathe properly.
But if they tried to call an ambulance, he would quickly just frown and fall back into a deep sleep, so only the anxious mbers ended up taking turns sleeping on Choi Jeho’s bed. Except for Kang Kiyeon, who needed to find stability himself first.
‘And then, the fact that he pretends to be fine every morning is what really pisses off.’
Lee Cheonghyeon had even said sothing like that. Kang Kiyeon hadn’t said anything, but it was clear he agreed.
No one ever told Kim Iwol about what happened at night. Not only did he rarely rember it himself, but the first ti he found out, he had practically fallen to his knees apologizing to everyone.
‘You must not have been able to sleep because of . Do you want to get so sleep now? I’ll talk to the manager.’
No one wanted an apology from Kim Iwol. Rather, they knew this situation would be another source of stress for him.
So they left him alone without saying anything. Just taking turns to check if they could hear him gasping for breath.
And then they realized sothing—this guy Kim Iwol, after practically choking to death the night before, would act like nothing happened the next morning.
As if everything was fine once he stepped out of the shower looking clean and fresh. They’d expected it, sure, but every mber of Spark still found themselves rubbing the back of their neck in disbelief.
“Wouldn’t it be better if he were hospitalized?”
Jeong Seongbin, who was on night duty tonight, asked worriedly.
Park Joowoo, who was washing and hanging Choi Jeho’s blanket to repay the debt of using Choi Jeho’s bed the previous night—though Choi Jeho himself didn’t care in the slightest—answered.
“Hyung’s kind of like… a wrecked car with tal plates slapped on to keep it running.”
Jeong Seongbin imdiately understood Park Joowoo’s analogy. It was indeed an apt comparison.
Park Joowoo, shaking out a pillowcase, said.
“…It could be because he’s anxious. Hyung has been under a lot of stress.”
At those words, Jeong Seongbin looked up at Park Joowoo.
He couldn’t quite rember how many years had passed since he first saw Park Joowoo at UA.
But in that mont, the image of a quiet, expressionless Park Joowoo—so different from how he was now—overlapped with the one before his eyes.
“If you open the window and let so air in… he gets much better.”
“Really?”
Park Joowoo nodded and hung up Choi Jeho’s pillowcase. It seed that was what happened last night.
Jeong Seongbin, watching Park Joowoo ticulously hang the laundry and look satisfied, asked.
“Joowoo.”
“Yeah.”
“Are you okay?”
Park Joowoo blinked his eyes.
Then, after nodding his head a few tis, he looked at Jeong Seongbin, smiled faintly, and answered.
“Yeah. You don’t have to worry about .”
In monts like this, Jeong Seongbin always found it hard to fully trust his friend.
However, he didn’t say anything more. Because he didn’t want to see his precious friend’s face darken again.
* * *
Not long after the drink-snatching incident, I started receiving counseling, separate from my health check-up.
Since I had promised to go to the hospital after Kang Kiyeon’s condition stabilized, it was a convenient timing.
The first topic that ca up in counseling was family relationships.
My family was a ‘crazy mixed-up powder’ edition, so I tried to choose my words carefully, but when they told to speak comfortably within what was discussable, I told them various things.
“…But this might not be everything. I tend to forget things easily.”
Considering how frustrated my sister used to get whenever I couldn’t rember past events, there were probably quite a few episodes I had forgotten. However, the counselor was considerate, telling to talk slowly whenever I rembered anything.
When I explained how I’d been hit by a coworker with a blunt object and almost died from an allergic reaction to food, the counselor was visibly shaken.
“After that, I beca sensitive to even small things. My emotions also swing back and forth like a seesaw.”
There were other questions. When asked about my relationships with those around , I confessed about the conflict with Kang Kiyeon.
“That friend told he’s scared because he doesn’t know when I might die, and I think he has a point. I don’t know what will happen to either.”
To the question of whether I had anyone to rely on, I answered no. I wondered if I should say I had, but they died, but the counselor’s face already looked dark, so I couldn’t bring myself to say it.
After so hesitation, the counselor asked .
“Mr. Iwol, have you ever had extre thoughts yourself?”
It was a difficult question. I debated whether I should combine before and after the regression, but since my mind started to break down from the mont I opened the first mory data, I decided to speak honestly. That I had gone to the Han River but just ca back.
“What stopped you that day, Mr. Iwol?”
I briefly retraced my mories. Then, I talked about the things that ca to mind one by one.
“I have to work…? If an accident happens here, it could be traumatic for the first person to find …? It would be hard for the people who have to clean up. They say the bodies of drowning victims are often badly damaged. I shouldn’t be a nuisance… I think those were the thoughts going through my head.”
The counselor’s hand beca busy. I was curious what they were writing, but my interest quickly faded. How they would interpret this story was their domain.
“What is most important to you right now, Mr. Iwol?”
“Activities, I suppose. Making sure the mbers can work safely and peacefully is important too…”
Afterward, we continued to talk about schedules and activities.
When asked what protective asures the agency was providing, I explained the negotiation details in as much detail as I could, to reassure them that I was in a safer place now.
After hearing everything, the counselor looked at and said,
“Earlier, you said you tend to forget things easily, right, Mr. Iwol?”
“Yes.”
“But from what I’ve heard, Mr. Iwol, you seem to have a very good mory. You know, people usually say they don’t rember anything after the college entrance exam. But you’re even helping your dongsaengs with their studies.”
“Uh…”
“It’s possible you have a tendency to try to quickly forget unpleasant things when they happen. This is a phenonon corresponding to repression among defense chanisms…”
In short, it ant that my forgetting most of my childhood mories was part of a defense chanism.
“If I can’t rember, isn’t that okay then?”
To my words, the counselor drew a line, saying it wasn’t. That soday, the accumulated stress could manifest physically.
In that case, maybe this was connected to synchronization too. My sync rate had definitely risen after my ntal state started swinging wildly.
“And, Mr. Iwol, it would be good for you to reduce your work. If possible.”
Including the counselor’s advice, the session lasted a full two hours. Only after receiving a recomndation to combine it with dication therapy was I able to leave the center.
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