Chapter 2 Old Memories
I thought of the first time I saw Hanyang.
On the stage, twenty-eight-year-old Hanyang defeated opponent after opponent.
Yet this man with a perfect record had eyes full of gray defeat, like a dead man.
I did not like men, but his eyes caught my interest.
I wanted to know what he would be like in bed.
Hanyang had backbone. He would rather cover himself in injuries than get close to me.
After several times, I had not touched him, yet Hanyang had tortured himself until he was covered in wounds.
I admired Hanyang, so I changed my approach and began to pursue him.
No matter how he refused, I clung to him relentlessly.
This went on for three years.
In the third year of pursuing Hanyang, we finally got together.
In the first month we were together, Hanyang died.
He died blocking a knife for me.
I stayed calm when Hanyang was declared dead.
I dealt with the killer, handled the funeral, and looked at the urn in the room.
At first I thought I was fine. Later I realized it was not calm. It was depression.
Because I could not understand the reason for the depression, I ended my own life.
When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in my own bed.
I had fallen back to twenty-one, the year Hanyang had just come of age.