Chapter 20: People (2)

I stopped praying. I burned the Bible. My lips were cracked, and my cheeks were swollen. I left home.

Looking back, leaving home wasn’t just for survival, it was a declaration of independence. I can live without you pigs. Even if I rot and die on the streets, I won’t become like you. Something like that.

The damp, humid air unpleasantly caressed Han Yeoreum’s face. Annoyed by the sensation, as if the wind itself were mocking her, she kicked a pebble on the roadside. It tumbled down the hill, making clicking sounds.
Her convictions were no different from that pebble. She tried to hold onto them firmly, but they were easily swept away with a single kick.

Convictions don’t fill your stomach. They don’t provide shelter. Trusting someone leads to betrayal. Taking responsibility leads to greater loss.
No, forget it. I didn’t care about those things anymore. I didn’t want to starve. I wanted to sleep, even for just an hour. I didn’t want to be kicked around. I didn’t want to be dragged back home by the police, listening to their irresponsible sermons. I was afraid of seeing my parents’ distorted expressions. I didn’t want to be hurt. That’s why I ran away again and again.

I stole money for the first time. Money soaked in someone’s blood and sweat. Precious money earned through days and nights of hard work. But I was hungry.
Hiding in a reeking toilet stall, I devoured the onigiri I bought with the stolen money. It’s delicious, so delicious. In the mirror above the sink, where I went to wash my sauce-covered hands, I saw a pig staring back.

Disgust rose in my throat. I’d rather die. No, I don’t want to die. I’m hungry. A wave of conflicting emotions eroded my heart.

I had no aspirations. No reason to exist. I had devoured all of that long ago. What should I do now? How long do I have to live like this? I didn’t know. I just wandered the streets, grunting and groaning.

It was around that time that Han Yeoreum met Yu Dojin.

You’re pitiful. The man, Yu Dojin, said, looking at her.
No, there’s no way he’s buying me food and shelter for such an absurd reason. He must have some ulterior motive. Han Yeoreum narrowed her eyes at Yu Dojin. She thought he was incredibly brazen.

But looking into the man’s eyes, empty eyes devoid of any desire or will, Han Yeoreum vaguely felt that his words were true.

I see, this is how others see me. It makes sense. Hated by my parents, no friends, sleeping in public restrooms every night, no skills, judging others with my self-righteous convictions, and now stealing because I’m hungry. Of course I’m pitiful.

Han Yeoreum clenched her fists unconsciously.
At his attitude, as if he was denying her entire existence by exposing her dark side, Han Yeoreum felt like she was stripped naked and crucified in a public square.

But she didn’t want to become like this. You’re the ones who made me this way.
You adults hit me, kicked me out, ignored my cries for help, condoned my parents’ violence, and wouldn’t let me earn money because I was too young. Who are you to look at me like that?

The resentment and frustration she had been harboring rose in her throat. Overwhelmed by the sudden surge of emotions, her reasoning clouded, and incoherent arguments spilled from her mouth.

“Huh.”

Han Yeoreum came to her senses when she saw Yu Dojin’s expression. Oh my god, I should be bowing and thanking him, why did I say that?

She couldn’t bear to look at him, ashamed of herself for acting like a naive child.
It’s over. I want to disappear. Yes, it’s better to disappear than to live like this, so pathetically. Han Yeoreum’s lips trembled slightly.

But Yu Dojin accepted even her childish outburst without a word.

“Do as you please.”

His eyes, filled with pity and a hint of warmth, as if looking at a piglet grunting in a pigsty because it couldn’t bear its hunger, were enough to ignite a spark of hope in Han Yeoreum’s heart.

But the spark soon faded. There were many reasons, but the lack of “kindling” was the decisive factor.

He was a rotting tree.
At first glance, he seemed like a normal tree, with a reasonably sized and sturdy bark, but inside, there were many hollow spaces, and his roots, thin and weak, couldn’t even support his own weight.
It was only natural that a fire lit with such wood would soon fizzle out with a pathetic hiss.

But others didn’t seem to notice. They continued to chop away at the tree, even scratching at the bark with dissatisfied looks, asking why he hadn’t prepared more.
Of course, Han Yeoreum was just watching from afar, so she didn’t know the man’s exact situation, why he endured and followed them without a word of complaint.
She could only vaguely guess from the women’s greedy gazes and the man’s occasional sleep-talking.

Then, one morning, she found him collapsed amidst the sour-smelling vomit. His entire body was burning hot like a fireball from a volcano, and his face was pale, letting out faint moans.

It was a hellish scene that would make an ordinary person faint, but Han Yeoreum’s mind was colder than ever. Yes, there’s nothing to be surprised about. He wants to die, but he doesn’t have the courage, so he’s just waiting for death to come.
It wasn’t strange for death to come to a coward who only indulged in such negative thoughts.

The man’s face was contorted in pain, but at the same time, he wore a strange, relieved smile.
It was as if he was welcoming death with open arms.

If I leave him like this, he’ll die. Unnoticed, under the moonlight streaming through the window, he would quietly breathe his last, his body devoured by flies, and a few days later, a neighbor, complaining about the stench coming from his apartment, would discover him. He would be placed in the lowest spot of a charnel house, visited by no one.

You’re incredibly selfish.
A fierce spark ignited in Han Yeoreum’s heart.

Han Yeoreum wiped the vomit off the man’s face and wrapped him in a blanket from the corner of the room.
Even though the sticky vomit got on her hands, and the disgusting smell filling the room made her gag, Han Yeoreum didn’t stop.

Yes, you can’t die. You can’t. Because you’ll be at peace if you die. I won’t allow that. So you’ll be saved by the piglet you pitied, and you’ll live another day.
He would tremble, remembering the agony of death that had brushed against his throat last night, while at the same time despairing over the lost opportunity. And then he’ll realize how cruel he was to me last night.

I’ll laugh at him then. Han Yeoreum smirked, a wicked smile on her face.

Half a day later, the man woke up, blinking his eyes blankly. Hmph, he didn’t expect this at all. Does it feel unfair? You’re trying to act like nothing’s wrong, but I know everything.
As Han Yeoreum expected, tears soon started rolling down the man’s cheeks.

See? You acted all high and mighty, but in the end, you’re no different from me. You can’t overcome it, you don’t have the courage to change the situation, so you just keep running away. Who’s pitiful now?

Yes.
I’m not pitiful.
You’re not pitiful either.

There’s no need to be intimidated. No reason to give up. It’s not us who are bad, it’s this world that doesn’t punish the bad guys. So don’t try to die on your own. Nothing will change if you die.

Cry. Let it all out. Get angry at the person next to you.
Does it feel humiliating to be pitied? Do you want revenge? Live for that spite. Hold your head high and breathe, even if it’s shitty, waiting for your chance for revenge. Like you did for me that night, I’ll do it for you this time.
Burn it all down and rise again.

As the night passed and her excitement subsided, Han Yeoreum realized that her conclusion somewhat contradicted her previous thoughts, but she decided not to worry about it.
She had just said what she wanted to say. No one lived a perfectly consistent life anyway. Everyone is a bundle of contradictions.

Yes, we need to be more brazen. I should accept myself, not be intimidated by how others perceive me. If I have something to say, I should say it, and if I don’t like something, I should say I don’t like it.
No one cares if I restrict myself with a sense of responsibility or guilt, or with rules and norms. Even worse people live proudly without any punishment.
I don’t plan to become a villain, but maybe it’s okay to live a little more selfishly.
No, I still don’t know. My life is too biased and fragmented to judge what’s right and wrong. But there’s no reason to die. That’s enough.

Han Yeoreum stood up and looked at the man sleeping soundly in the corner. The shadow of death that had crept up to his chin had disappeared, as if it had never existed.
Now, all that remained on his face were swollen eyelids, tear stains, and eye boogers peeking through the corners of his eyes.

She suddenly wanted to see something clean. Something pure. Like the moon in the night sky. Han Yeoreum walked over and opened the window. The fresh breeze, slapping against her face like waves, made her smile involuntarily. Ah, so refreshing.

Yes, this breeze is all I need. No matter how humiliating the day was, no matter how frustrated and suffocated she felt, the breeze would blow when the sun set. With that refreshing feeling, she could live another day. Why hadn’t she realized this simple fact before?

I must have been overthinking. Her head was so full of worries and anxieties that she couldn’t even think of something as simple as opening the window.

As if responding to her smile, a strong gust of wind blew again. Leaning against the window, her jaw relaxed, she enjoyed the breeze for a long time. Then, she heard a coughing sound from the corner of the room. It was the man.

“Oops.”

Startled, Han Yeoreum closed the window and checked on the man. He was still fast asleep, oblivious to the world, with eye boogers crusted in the corners of his eyes. What does he see beyond those eyelids? What kind of dream is he wandering through?
She didn’t know. Just as the man couldn’t understand her, she couldn’t understand him either. No, that’s how people are. They can never completely understand each other.

She didn’t know why the man picked her up, or what his intentions were. But that wasn’t important.
No matter how it started, he was the one who saved her when she gave up on everything, the one who rekindled the fire in her heart when it had turned to ashes.
Thanks to him, she could think again, and reach a reasonably decent conclusion.

She didn’t think about repaying his kindness. She knew that was too presumptuous. A naive, immature child like her, lacking money and experience, would only be a hindrance if she tried to repay him.
But as someone who had realized things first, perhaps she could help him by making sure he ate, creating things for him to do, wiping away his occasional tears, and offering support until his turbulent emotions subsided.

“…Crazy b*tch.”

Her steps faltered as she walked down the alley. Overwhelmed by shame, Han Yeoreum bit her lip. How arrogant. Too arrogant. She wanted to beat her past self.

A woman with long, black hair was waiting for the man on the hill. It was her. The crazy woman who spouted those chilling words to him at the department store.
Judging by her empty eyes and dirt-covered hair, she seemed even more out of it than before.

Han Yeoreum turned to look at Yu Dojin. His hardened gaze and fidgeting hands told her that he was nervous.
Not yet. Not yet. Whatever happened, this man needed more time.
He needed to rest more, expend his energy on trivial matters, and calm his turbulent emotions. Rushing to a conclusion in this state would only lead him down the wrong path.

As always, I have to step in. Just as Han Yeoreum made up her mind and was about to approach the woman,

“Wait.”

The man stopped Han Yeoreum and walked confidently towards the woman on the hill. He started talking to her.
Judging by his resolute gaze, it wasn’t difficult to predict that the outcome would be different this time.

…How?
Just two days ago, he was crying while watching a movie. How did he change so quickly?
You were just like me, weren’t you?

But he was an adult. Unlike her, clinging to trivial matters, he could easily brush off his wounds and move on with composure.
She felt ashamed. The thoughts and actions she had taken until now felt like the delusional games of a naive child, unbearably humiliating.

Han Yeoreum ran away. Why did I make such a mistake? Dragging a normal person down to my level, acting all high and mighty and selfish.

If I really wanted to help him, I should have ended it sooner.
If he got reported for being involved with a runaway like her, it would be an irreversible disaster. Why hadn’t she realized that sooner?

That’s it. I was trying to fill the void in my heart, my pathetic, shattered pride, by using him. Every single one of her thoughts was ugly and insidious. She was worse than a stray dog scavenging for scraps.

Unlike her, who couldn’t survive without belittling others, he was different. He had the courage to accept his weakness and move on. He was competent enough to get a job. He had people waiting for him. He had money and a home.

How could she become like that? Perhaps she could change as time passed and she became an adult.
Then how much longer would she have to run away, steal money, sleep anxiously on the streets, deceive people, lie, and spend countless nights alone to become an adult?

I don’t know. I don’t know anything. She felt like she would always be a child, even as time passed. But she didn’t have any endearing childish qualities, she was just an annoying brat who deserved to be kicked.

Let’s just die. Let’s jump into the river and die. I’m sick of this life! But when she actually stood on the bridge and looked down at the river, she would be too scared of the murky water and climb back down. And then she would steal money again.

She wiped away the trickling tears with her hand. The only warm liquid in her cold, rotten body. But even that was quickly swept away by the wind.
Ah, even you’re leaving me. Everything was flowing away. Her footsteps, her face, her carefully guarded principles, her heart, her pride—all flowing away and seeping into the darkness of the alley.
That’s when it happened.

“Han Yeoreum.”

Soft yet rough. Damp yet warm. Those contradictory sensations gathered and enveloped Han Yeoreum’s hand.
Startled, she turned her head and saw Yu Dojin standing before her.

What? Damp. Unpleasant. Why is he here? I’m surprised. What about that woman? Warm. What’s going on?
Confused thoughts swarmed in Han Yeoreum’s mind. But they were soon washed away by the blood flowing from Yu Dojin’s palm.

It wasn’t just his palm. His hair, face, arms, legs—his entire body was covered in dust, scratches, and blood. Why did he come all the way here, looking like this, to see someone like her?

…I left to avoid this.
Why is he humiliating me until the very end?

“What are you doing?”

Han Yeoreum pushed away his hand with all her might. Yu Dojin, surprised by her violent reaction, stammered.

After a moment of hesitation, Yu Dojin shook his head and handed Han Yeoreum the crumpled bill.

“Is this yours?”

Han Yeoreum’s eyes widened at the sight of the bill. My emergency fund. My last resort. When did I drop it? I’m such an idiot, can’t even hold onto my money.
Disgust washed over Han Yeoreum, and she frowned. Then she felt ashamed again. This man just came to return the money. To completely sever their ties, leaving no trace behind.
That’s only natural. I’m the one who made a strange assumption again.

“Yes.”

Han Yeoreum snatched the bill from Yu Dojin’s hand and turned to leave.

“Wait, I have more to say.”

Yu Dojin tried to speak, but Han Yeoreum didn’t stop walking.

“Hey.”
“What?”

Han Yeoreum glared at Yu Dojin, annoyance lacing her voice.

“I won’t tell anyone about you, so just let it go.”
“What?”
“What do you mean ‘what’? You came here to stop me from reporting you, didn’t you? You acted all tough, but you were scared in the end? It’s okay, I have a conscience. So just stop bothering me and leave.”
“No, that’s not it. What I wanted to say—”
“Then what? Why are you doing this to me?”
“It’s just…”

The faint light of the streetlamp cast shadows on Yu Dojin’s face. He clenched and unclenched his hands nervously, then slowly spoke.

“…Let’s go back.”

Han Yeoreum’s mind was once again filled with confusion. I don’t understand what he’s thinking. What does he gain from this?
No, she knew he wasn’t the type to act based on personal gain. It was ridiculous to even think about that, considering they had barely known each other, but somehow, she knew.

That’s why she didn’t want to ruin him. She didn’t care about the reason. She just didn’t want to hold back someone who was finally able to move forward.

“So… you ran all the way here, looking like that, to find a runaway you’ve known for less than two weeks? Don’t lie to me, do you think I’m an idiot?”

Han Yeoreum twisted her lips in disbelief.

“You thought you could do whatever you wanted after acting all nice a few times? Or do you have experience with this? This is ridiculous.”

Yu Dojin turned his head away, unable to refute her words. From an outsider’s perspective, it would certainly look that way.

“…I’m not asking you to completely believe me. It’s true that this is a difficult situation to understand. But still…”
“Shut up. You’re the same. Acting all kind and saying nice things, but behind it all, you’re thinking the same disgusting things.”

Her sharp voice trembled as it spread through the air.

“I know, if I hadn’t run away, this wouldn’t have happened. I brought this upon myself. But I didn’t want to become like this! I wanted to stay at home like everyone else. I didn’t want to be homeless, I didn’t want to steal! I wanted to earn money with my own hands and live proudly…”

The harsh words, initially intended to push Yu Dojin away, had transformed into a torrent of resentment.

“But I was scared, scared of what would happen if I kept living like that, so I ran away, but everyone just spouted irresponsible words, no one helped me, and no one would hire a kid like me…! Why, why do I have to live like this? Why am I so unlucky? Why…!”

Her voice, barely a whisper, echoed softly.

What should he say? How could he help this girl? Yu Dojin didn’t know. He wasn’t eloquent enough to offer such grand advice.
He could only say what he had to say.

“I’m sorry.”

Han Yeoreum’s eyes widened at his seemingly out-of-context apology.

“What…?”
“It was all a lie. The reason I helped you. It wasn’t because I pitied you. Actually, it was for a much more selfish and insidious reason.”

She didn’t want to hear his reasons. Even if they parted ways, she wanted him to remain the ridiculously naive and foolish man in her heart.
Han Yeoreum bit her lip after hearing his words.

“There was a girl who was bullied because of me. I wanted to help her, but the more I tried, the more things got tangled up, and in the end, I ruined everything… After that, every time I tried to do something, I couldn’t bear it because I kept thinking about that experience.”

Yu Dojin continued, his voice strained, his expression filled with pain.

“Maybe I wanted to resolve that regret through you, to prove that I could do it.”
“…Just stop.”

Han Yeoreum turned her head away, as if she didn’t want to hear any more, and started walking away.
This is how it should be. Even as Yu Dojin stood there, his heart sinking, the distance between them widened.
No. I can’t fall any further. At least I should finish what I have to say. Thinking that, Yu Dojin quickened his pace and followed Han Yeoreum.

“But you’re a good person. Too good to be treated like that by me. You make excuses about repaying favors, but that’s not something anyone can do. At least I can’t.”
“You can live even if you do that.”

I can’t even get a meal unless I suck up to others, even if I hate it.

“It doesn’t matter. Whatever your intentions were, I was able to think again thanks to you. That’s the truth. At least to me, you’re a good person.”

Yu Dojin continued speaking to the precariously swaying back in front of him.

“So I hope things work out for you. I hope you don’t have to suffer from unfair treatment. I hope you don’t have to starve or be homeless. I…”
“Just stop it!”

Her tearful voice echoed through the alley.

“So what if you say that? Nothing will change. You don’t have the right, or the responsibility. What you’re doing is just a crime. You know that, so stop saying things you can’t take responsibility for…”
“…Yeah, I know. It’s presumptuous. I don’t have any grand plans. Even if I go back now, I don’t know how to help you. I have no idea how to change this situation.”

It was clear that he couldn’t do anything for her since even the police couldn’t solve the problem. He wanted to turn everything upside down, but that might only bring her greater hardship.
A sense of powerlessness, branded on his heart like a stigma, tightened around Yu Dojin’s throat.

“But still…”

Was it right to just stand by and watch? Should he just masturbate with excuses, because that’s the rule, because there’s nothing he can do, and watch as she disappears into the darkness?
No. That choice was truly wrong. At least in his world.

He knew it was a fallacy based on naive sentimentality. It was also true that he had no proper grounds to persuade others. But it was okay. None of that mattered. Just…

“I don’t want to end it like this again.”

I don’t want that. I don’t want that kind of ending. That’s enough.
Yu Dojin said softly, holding onto the edge of Han Yeoreum’s sleeve.

“What…?”
“Of course, I’ll take responsibility for my actions. I won’t run away if anyone questions me, whether it’s the police or anyone else. But I’ll also question them for abandoning you.”

Yu Dojin took a deep breath and continued.

“The point is, I’ll try my best.”

Yu Dojin closed his mouth after saying that.

It was a weak grip, like a thin clothespin she could easily shake off if she wanted to.
It wasn’t coercion, but a request, a plea. If she rejected even this, he would give up. He would let her go.

An adult grabbing onto a runaway’s sleeve, promising to take responsibility—it was disgustingly creepy. He looked pathetic and spineless, unable to even get angry after being insulted so much.

Han Yeoreum started to pry his fingers off her sleeve without looking back. Every time she removed a finger, his faint breaths tickled her ears.

“…”

I can’t.
Just one more finger to remove, but I can’t.
Because I’m a bad person. A wicked person who finds joy in doing what’s wrong, even though I know it’s wrong.

“…I don’t know…”

A hot breath escaped Han Yeoreum’s throat.

“I don’t know what to do…”

At her pleading voice, as if asking for an answer, Yu Dojin spoke with a resolute expression.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know either.”

With those words, Yu Dojin removed his index finger from Han Yeoreum’s trembling hand.
Her shoulders flinched at the sudden release, then slumped.

“So let’s figure it out together. There’s no rush. If we eat, sleep, and think slowly, someday…”

Yu Dojin said, carefully taking Han Yeoreum’s hand in his.

“Something will come up.”