Before they knew it, the remaining distance between them was exactly one step.
The one who spoke first was Huijae.
“I ca to say goodbye.”
She used polite speech again.
“Before I leave....”
The cold wind felt as though it were stabbing his lungs. The young man stubbornly shut his mouth, trying to hide his ragged breathing.
Should he beg her to stay? Should he grab her and refuse to let go? Should he get angry and tell her not to go? Should he ask why she had to leave?
After wrestling with those thoughts, Taeseok’s lips managed to release only a few short words.
“...Do you... have to?”
Even that single sentence ca out crushed at the end, as if the words themselves had lost their strength.
Huijae looked up at him. Her eyes shimred with moisture.
“...I have to.”
White snowflakes drifted down with the wind, dancing softly in the air. Huijae’s cheeks were flushed red from the cold, but she spoke brightly.
“I’m going to Manchuria to teach people how to read. The night school students can already finish at least one book now. I suppose they’ll manage even without .”
Just like before—when she would gaze into an empty future with unwavering certainty.
Yeon Huijae, who had once stood drenched in the rain, had not changed at all.
The girl the boy had loved for so long was exactly the sa.
“As it happens, I’m actually quite good at teaching.”
Standing beneath the falling snow, Huijae smiled.
“I still don’t know the Manchurian language... but I learn quickly. I’ll do well on the first day I et my students. I’ve practiced introducing myself at least once, so I’m confident.”
That clear, bright face.
The girl who had made him willing to throw away his entire life took a deep breath, as if demonstrating, and opened her mouth.
“My na. Huijae.”
Unforgettable mories sotis drag a person back into that exact mont.
“You must teach .”
As if she were still living inside that ti.
“I have just arrived in Manchuria.”
Whoooosh—
A gust of snowstorm wind swept through. Huijae’s hair beca damp with snow. Even though she must have been freezing, she smiled widely.
That sight sliced into the young man’s heart.
“I’ll leave this place in President Gi’s care. You’ll take good care of it, won’t you?”
Just like the day she had stood on tiptoe beyond the wall and called out to the boy for the first ti.
She smiled just like that.
“Promise .”
Huijae’s pale hand reached toward /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ Taeseok.
Just like the day she first told him her na.
Slowly, Taeseok hooked his finger around her small hand.
Even knowing it would eventually break, they tangled their pinkies together and pressed their thumbs firmly together, as if sealing a kiss.
Huijae said nothing.
Taeseok’s head spun.
When he held that soft white hand, the flower-like face across from him blurred.
He couldn’t see clearly.
He needed to look.
He needed to engrave her into his mory.
But the best Taeseok could do was clench the hand that was not holding Huijae’s. His eyes burned.
Whoooosh—
The snowstorm howled again.
It was ti for Huijae to go.
Their clasped hands could not remain locked forever. Slowly, Huijae loosened her grip.
Have a safe trip.
Taeseok wanted to say the words Huijae had always said to him.
But in the end, he could not say them.
Because if he opened his mouth... he might beg her to stay.
Because he might kneel before this brave, spirited girl and ask her—shafully—not to leave.
Taeseok lowered his head.
He did not have the courage to watch her walk away.
Where Huijae had stepped, small footprints remained. Taeseok stood there motionless until snow piled softly on top of them and erased even the faintest trace.
Only when he finally realized she was truly gone did Taeseok lift his head.
All that remained was a snow-covered landscape, shining faintly in the dark world.
Only then did Taeseok close his eyes.
The tears that had gathered at the corners of his eyes finally slipped down to his chin.
With hands reddened by the cold, he covered his face.
The pear blossoms he had wanted to show her so badly—
In the end,
They never saw them together.
Under the large hands covering his eyes, hot tears stread down relentlessly.
The bare pear tree, stripped of every leaf, seed to comfort the young man as its branches shook in the wind.
Instead of pear blossoms, white snow settled gently on his shoulders.
“Huijae....”
Unable to say goodbye.
Unable to tell her not to go.
Taeseok could only call the girl’s na once.
The winter was long.
* * *
Taejin arrived at the airport.
He was not dressed luxuriously as usual. A simple jumper and trousers. His shoes were one size larger than normal because he had layered two pairs of socks.
But his relaxed expression remained the sa as always.
Taejin had gone to Osaka.
To et the Koreans his father had abandoned.
He handed them compensation money.
He was slapped.
His collar was grabbed.
And he bowed his head.
“...No one... no one ever said they were sorry to us.... We thought everyone had forgotten....”
They beat their chests and cried.
Later, so thanked him for coming, even if it was late.
So asked whether he had eaten.
Others said nothing at all.
They looked as if they were rembering soone who had already passed away.
Taejin touched his cheek, which still felt numb.
It seed the thing that truly hurt was not his cheek—but his chest.
There were still many places where he needed to beg forgiveness.
Taejin had a long road ahead of him.
There was still ti before his flight departed.
He sat down for a mont and placed his modest bag on his lap.
Nothing inside it was particularly expensive.
But there was sothing precious.
It could not be broken.
“Perhaps I should have brought a bigger one....”
Taejin muttered to himself.
He had suddenly regretted not bringing the larger of the frad wedding photos.
“What do you an?”
Why... was that familiar voice coming from the seat beside him?
“...My wife?”
“You should add ‘ex’ in front of that now.”
“...No, why are you here...?”
Huijae, wearing a red scarf, plopped down into the seat beside him.
Unlike Taejin’s light luggage, her suitcase was quite large. It made a heavy sound when she set it on the floor.
Taejin blinked in disbelief.
“I ca to correct sothing that was wrong.”
Huijae had changed a lot.
With her hair cut short into a neat bob, she looked at Taejin.
Bright sunlight stread through the window, illuminating the two of them.
Past Huijae and present Huijae overlapped.
The mory of the day they first t stirred his heart.
“To begin with, I don’t particularly like pear blossom tea. Especially the tea you brewed. Most of it tasted terrible. You think you’re very good at making tea, but that’s clearly a misunderstanding.”
“...But you used to say the tea I made was good.”
“That’s because you kept bringing increasingly strange combinations until I finally said sothing nice. Tangerine with mint and cinnamon was truly awful. Just rembering it makes angry.”
“...Is that so? They were all healthy ingredients....”
Huijae talked endlessly.
So much that Taejin wondered if she had always been like this.
It was a side of her he had never seen before.
Only after becoming strangers could they finally speak comfortably about things they had never been able to say when they were closest.
Now Huijae was neither soone’s daughter nor soone’s wife.
She was simply Yeon Huijae.
“And I don’t particularly like the bread from Onhwadang either. There’s far too much red bean paste. I only ate it all because it’s apparently so difficult to obtain.”
“...I see....”
Taejin answered with a dazed look.
Huijae looked far more relaxed than before.
“Also, that ruby brooch you picked for . To be honest, it was tacky. When you brought the matching earrings and ring as well, I nearly cried.”
“...I thought it looked very beautiful. Even the jeweler said it was good.”
“Of course he did. He needed to sell sothing expensive.”
“...I was naïve.”
Huijae was as refreshing as the strands of hair brushing her chin.
Taking a deep breath, she spoke clearly, as if everything before had only been a preface.
“And I’m tired of living the way other people want to live.”
“....”
“I hate pretending to know nothing like so ignorant fool.”
“....”
“And don’t call that sothing done for my sake.”
Even without saying it explicitly, he knew exactly what she ant.
Taejin nodded quietly.
His wife—no, Yeon Huijae—was far stronger and more impressive than he had ever realized.
“Anyway. Since you clearly don’t know , I have no choice but to correct you.”
Huijae stood up.
With a small grunt, she lifted the heavy suitcase.
Taejin quickly reached out to take it from her.
But Huijae did not hand it over.
She gripped it tightly with both hands.
“I’ll carry my own luggage.”
“It made a very heavy sound when you set it down earlier.”
“Yes. Even so.”
She stubbornly turned her head away and walked forward confidently.
Watching her back, Taejin lengthened his stride and followed after her.
In the end, he managed to grab one handle of the suitcase.
“By the way... what on earth is inside this? It’s incredibly heavy.”
Suppressing the emotions rising inside him, Taejin asked as casually as he could.
“What do you think? It’s all books.”
Huijae answered without turning around.
Carrying the heavy luggage together, the two walked side by side.
Toward Manchuria.
To correct what had been wrong.
Outside the window, an airplane carved a white trail across the sky as it disappeared into the distance.
Taeseok, who had been staring at it silently, finally turned his gaze away.
Seated in an expensive chair behind a desk bearing a naplate engraved with a golden dragon, he signed docunts with a fountain pen brought from overseas.
There was much work to do.
Taeseok put a cigarette back between his lips.
He had quit before.
But now he had started again.
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